Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Microstory 1922: The Director’s Direction

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Director for the Office of Special Investigations: Who is this man, Special Investigator? What does he want?
Special Investigator: He’s from another universe, like the creature we’ve captured.
OSI Director: And did he tell you that?
Special Investigator: I know what you’re getting at, but we believe him. His first appearance matches that of the alien.
OSI Director: I’m not doubting that the two events are related, but you can’t go on his word simply because he claims to be a member of law enforcement where he’s from, or because he’s telling a really good story. I can’t authorize a random civilian whose identity we cannot verify to interrogate a prisoner on our behalf. We don’t know anything about either of them. They could be working together. The creature could have been sent to stop the human, who is actually a world-killer bent on destroying us. We are in uncharted territory here, and your trust in him is not reassuring. You were given this assignment months ago, and you’ve still not come up with any solid answers. That could make anyone desperate for results, be they accurate or not.
Special Investigator: You’re right, sir. I don’t know if he’s lying, but it’s as he explained it—and like you said just now—we’ve been working on this for so long with all but nothing to show for it. So far, all we’ve been able to determine is that its wings allow it to float in the air a little bit, but not fly over long distances. Something has to change. It may be a bad idea to let those two be in the same room together. I can’t honestly promise that it won’t end up being the downfall of the world. But the same is true for anything. A humanitarian visitor to a wartorn developing country could accidentally sneeze too close to the dictator, spark World War II, and decimate the human population in ten years. Life is not without risk, but without effort, it’s not anything at all. If you just want to play it safe, then I say we cut off the alien’s head, and study it through an autopsy. But if you do that, I guarantee you that you’ll never hear it speak.
OSI Director: There are those who are not only willing to accept that outcome, but are actively hoping for it. They say it would be the safest route.
Special Investigator: *shaking his head* That may teach us whether those two organs in its back are kidneys, or something else. It will not tell us whether it’s here to kill us, or if more are coming. You pushed for a non-violent start to this investigation, and you got a lot of pushback for it, but I backed you, because I believe in this course of action, and I still do. That man downstairs can help us. Let him try. It could be disastrous, or it could lead to a breakthrough. This is the greatest discovery in human history. If they can travel between universes, maybe we can too. Think how the U.S. could benefit from such tech.
OSI Director: This is beyond against protocol. I admit, however, that your idea to treat him as a spy is an intriguing workaround to the paperwork parameters.
Special Investigator: It wasn’t mine. It was Agent Parsons’.
OSI Director: Then perhaps I should speak with Agent Parsons first, and also this so-called parole officer from another Earth.
Special Investigator: I think that would be a fine idea.
OSI Director: Make it happen.

Monday, July 3, 2023

Microstory 1921: Bureaucratic Protocol

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Special Investigator: Thank you for agreeing to come in, Mr. Miazga.
Leonard: I wanna see it.
Special Investigator: There will be time to se the Ochivar—
Leonard: We don’t know that. We may be operating on a tight deadline here. This creature and I have something in common; something that it does not share with you, or with him. I don’t know how the Ochivari developed, or why they go around destroying entire populations, but I know that they’re a curious species.
Agent Parsons: How do you know that? Nothing about its behavior thus far implies any strong feelings regarding anything.
Leonard: I know that its curious, at least it’s genetically probable, because it has to be. Any species that evolves intelligence will lose that character trait if they do not also evolve the tendency to exercise that intelligence to gain knowledge. It obviously learned a great deal about the way the multiverse works, or it would not be here, and even if its arrival were an accident, its people’s history suggests its motivations to be driven by higher-level thinking, rather than simply base instinct.
Special Investigator: I see.
Leonard: Basically, it’s smart, social, and alone right now. It will feel an urge to connect with me, even if it’s only as an enemy. Which is fine, because at the moment, you’re really just trying to get it to communicate, aren’t you?
Special Investigator: That is an accurate assessment.
Leonard: I’ll get it to talk. I can’t guarantee what it will talk about, or whether its responses will ultimately prove fruitful, but it will be a start.
Agent Parsons: Do you have experience in interrogation, though? Our parole officers are mainly here to keep track of the...freemen, and report their movements.
Leonard: Well, I wasn’t always a parole officer. I came up after a brief stint in the military before I was injured. Then I joined the police as a regular officer before becoming disillusioned with its inefficacy. After befriending a social worker, we came to the conclusion that I would be better off avoiding crime scenes. But I was required to study all aspects of law enforcement before that, including interview techniques.
Agent Parsons: Special Investigator? What do you think?
Special Investigator: You make a compelling case, parole officer Miazga. I’m inclined to let you in that room, but it will not be as easy as the three of us taking the stairs down to that level, and opening a door. There is a protocol here, involving an interview with you on the other side of the table, a not insignificant amount of paperwork, and...
Leonard: And what?
Agent Parsons: Oh. And a background check, I would imagine.
Special Investigator: Yes. We are as bureaucratic as any other government entity. I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to handle your situation. Records must be filed.
Agent Parsons: Treat him as a spy. Spies don’t have real identities. Surely you have a form you can fill out that just gets us by without worrying about verifying any data.
Special Investigator: Yes, that’s a good idea, Agent Parsons. Wait here, I’ll go procure what we need to expedite the process.

Sunday, July 2, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 11, 2402

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
With Danica gone, the only logical place to seek help from someone in the time traveler underground was at the Salmon Civic Center in Kansas City. The place was deserted when they teleported there yesterday. It didn’t look like anything had gone wrong, more like everyone who worked there just happened to call out sick on the same day. They tried to go to the Great Pyramid of Giza too, but there was no one there either, though that wasn’t surprising, because as important as it was, it wasn’t known for its hubbub. No one could think of any other options for a while until Marie remembered something. “Let’s just reach out to the Delegator.”
“Ah, that guy’s never helpful,” Mateo whined.
“We have to connect to somebody,” Angela contended. “He may not be able to help, but he may know where everyone else is. This is just meant to be a start.”
Mateo sighed as he was stepping over to the industrial synthesizer, which they requested in their unit. “Hey Thistle, build me two sets of Jenga playing blocks please.”
Once the machine was done, they arranged the blocks in the formation of Stonehenge, then Mateo laid the final stone, and uttered the magic words. Nothing happened. Well, not nothing, exactly. They could feel a tug on their skin. The Stonehenge dimension was trying to reach them, but was unable to, for some reason.
“Ugh, I guess we’ll just play a game,” Marie suggested, shaking her head.
“No, there’s one other option at least,” Mateo said. “I didn’t offer it before, not because it would be a worse option, but because it may take some time for me to remember the code. Stonehenge isn’t the easiest thing to build a replica of, but there are tons of photos for reference. This one can only come from memory.”
It took so long for Mateo to remember the special knock that it was early morning the next year. Baudin Murdoch opened the door. “Mister Matic. How long has it been?”
“Hard to tell. Are you the only one left?” Mateo asked.
“Yeah, everyone else is at the meeting.”
“The Edge meeting?” Angela questioned. “I thought that was just for The Shortlist.”
Baudin shook his head. “No, it’s for anyone who didn’t want to end up with a duplicate in another universe.”
“That doesn’t describe you?” Marie asked.
Baudin shrugged. “Not many can do what I do. The way I see it, this new universe is better off with access to my power without the OG salmonverse being S-O-L at the same time. Anyway, come on in, come on in. Let’s have a seat in the lobby.”
They stepped into his office building. The girls had never been here before, so they looked around. “Do we have duplicates?”
Baudin shrugged again. “I don’t know. I suppose so, though.”
“We were led to believe that we were not allowed to attend the meeting.”
“Maybe that’s really where they all are,” Baudin began. “The way I understand it, the entire planet they’re on was protected from that whole thing. I didn’t read the fine print, because I made my decision quite quick.”
Mateo nodded, but needed to readjust the topic of conversation “We need help. Our friend is missing. She’s somewhere in the Sixth Key, but we don’t know where to start, and we don’t have a ship, or know anyone who might be able to get us one. We don’t know where all the other Earths are either, in relation to this one.”
“Did you speak with Stargazer?” Baudin asked.
“We went to the Pyramid, but he wasn’t there. And I only know that because no one was there. We’ve never actually met. Paige told me about him.”
“He’s mapping the new universe,” Baudin said. “I figured he’d stay there, but maybe he needed access to other telescopes, which are all basically doing the same thing. With all the time travelers gone, there’s no one left to help them understand what’s happening. Perhaps that’s why you weren’t invited to the meeting; so that you can do that.” He studied their faces, which were making it clear that they were uninterested in the responsibility. “All right. In that case, I’ll reach out to him for you.” He went behind the reception desk, and started digging through the cabinets and drawers. Finally, he found the remote control, which he used to bring down a screen behind them. They moved so they could get a better look while Baudin turned the projector on too. Using a tablet, he searched for what he was looking for, and then he picked up a microphone.
“Are you going to sing?”
“I’m going to sing,” Baudin answered. “No judgments please. I don’t have to sing well. I just have to sing passionately.” He prepared himself mentally for a moment, and then he switched on the music. “There once was a season of infinite light // When the distance from heaven was not far behind // I was close to You // I was close to You!” He continued the karaoke song, which was evidently called Constellations by Ellie Holcomb. He sang the whole thing, and he did so with the passion he promised, and he actually had a pretty nice voice. “Never alone // Never alone!” When he sang the final line, “out here in the dark” a real darkness consumed them all.
Seconds letter, pinpricks of glory began to appear above them. They formed the shape of a human heart, and once this shape was complete, they fell together from the ceiling, into a three dimensional human silhouette. From this, a man appeared. It must have been Stargazer. “I miss that feeling,” he said as the last of the light dripped from his skin, and faded on the floor like liquid sparks. It seemed to be a pleasant experience. “No one ever calls me anymore. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“Hello, Stargazer. My name is—”
“Mateo Matic. I’ve met a version of you.”
“I see. We were hoping that you could help us. It would seem that the main sequence planets do not possess many time travelers, but if you’re one of them, perhaps you can find a friend of ours? Her name is Olimpia Sangster.”
Stargazer nodded slowly. “Is she a friend?”
“Of course,” Mateo insisted.
Stargazer looked over at Baudin, who nodded. “If he says so, it is so.”
“I have heard the echoes,” Stargazer said as he was staring up at the ceiling. He waved his arm above his face, and transformed it back to the night sky, but this time with more than just the one constellation. “My name is Olimpia Sangster, and I have a normal voice,” he recited. “A fool who refuses to follow their superior only proves why they are the fool, and why their superior is the leader,” he added. “Olimpia Sangster, circa 2371.
“Those are quotes from her. Where did you hear those?” Angela was nervous.
“She says other things,” Stargazer replied cryptically, “but those are the only times she mentions herself by name.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, she does say O-L-I at one point. I assume she was having to spell it for someone. I don’t know why she stopped in the middle.”
“Explain. Where are you hearing these lines?”
Stargazer looked up with his eyes, and pointed with his whole hand. “The stars. The stars are echoing her words. You can’t hear them?”
“No. We can’t...hear stars. Why are they talking about her?”
Stargazer was confused. “Because she made them. She made half the universe. Someone else made the other half.”
“What the hell do you mean, she made the universe?”
“Just what it literally sounds like.”
“Have you...seen her?” Marie asked him.
Stargazer shook his head. “She only speaks. She speaks from everywhere.”
Ramses suddenly appeared out of nowhere, holding Mateo’s once-rosary again. “Oh, hey. You’re here too? I just left you at your apartment, like, a second ago.”
“That was yesterday,” Mateo told him. “What are you doing? Where is Olimpia?”
“I need him.” Ramses gestured towards Baudin. “It starts and ends with the Superscraper.”
“Hm.” Bauden had never heard the term, but he was intrigued. “Tell me more.” He reached out to Ramses.
“Wait. Where. Is. Olimpia?” Mateo repeated urgently.
“Go to Violkomin.”
“What? Tell us what that is!” Angela pleaded, but it was too late. They were both gone. “Have you heard of this Volkomen place?” she asked Stargazer, mostly because he was the only one left with any answers.
“It’s the edge of the barrier between the two halves of the universe. The stars speak of it as well, but I can’t find it. I will one day”
“Grrr,” Mateo growls. “Then we need to go to the Superscraper. Hopefully we can catch Ramses a third time. Would you be able to take us to the Third Rail Earth?”
“That I can do.” Stargazer raised his arms, bathing them in light. When it receded, they were in the lobby of Leona’s Superscraper in the Nation of Arvazna.
A woman stepped out from behind the reception desk, which Mateo now realized looked a lot like the one in Baudin’s office. This whole building screamed Murdoch architecture, now that he thought about it. Baudin did build it. That made perfect sense. “Hello,” she said politely. “Welcome to Arvazna. Do you need to go through intake?”
“We’re pros,” Mateo replied. “We were looking for our friend, Olimpia. Or Ramses. Have you heard of them?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve not. Are they two of the New Arvaznians?”
“No, I...Alyssa!” Mateo could see her across the way. “Alyssa, there you are!”
“Mateo, you’re back!” She teleported the twenty-five meters to them. “Sorry I had to cut out a couple years ago. As you can see, I had a lot of other work to attend to.”
“You run this place?” Angela asked.
“Mhmm, I do. Someone’s got to help these people with their new powers, patterns, and afflictions.”
“Have you seen Ramses around here?” Marie asked, not caring about that.
“No. Why would he be here? He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“No.”
“Well, sorry.”
“Well, he built this building. I mean, he commissioned the man who built it, Baudin Murdoch.”
“Oh. Well that explains why the auditorium is called Murdoch Hall. I assume he went back in time to do it in secret?”
“Yes.”
“You work here? This place is yours?” Angela asked again, just in a slightly, but not any more helpful, way.
“Yes, I told you that, Ange. Are you okay?”
“You were supposed to be one of us. They know you from the past...the future...whatever. You can’t work here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Angela. I can’t. This is my responsibility. Even if you stayed to help, I wouldn’t leave. These people need me. The normies are coming after us. We have to protect ourselves.”
“But...fate,” Angela pressed.
“It’s okay,” Mateo assured her. “It’s not meant to be.”
“No, she’s part of the team,” Angela argued. “We need her. We need all the power we can get. We need to find Olimpia, and no one else is left. They all abandoned the main sequence for the other main sequence.”
“I guess we changed things,” Mateo said sadly. “For Alyssa. For all of us.” Everything they knew about the timeline was up in the air. Maybe she was meant to join them on their future adventures, and maybe things will worsen because she chose another path, but they were not in the business of coercion, or even guilt-tripping. “It happens. Marie was never meant to exist, but she does, and I wouldn’t go back to put a stop to it. We’ll just have to find her another way.”
Angela scowled, and crossed her arms.
“Have you heard of...what was that again?” Marie asked Stargazer.
“Violkomin,” he helped.
“Yes, that. Have you heard of that world?” Marie went on.
“Yeah,” Alyssa replied. “The Global Council is sending one of Aldona’s diplomatic ships to meet with them.”
“We need to get on that ship,” Mateo decided.
“I can show you where it will be launching from next year,” Alyssa said, “but I can’t get you a seat. I’m sure they’re all full-up. This is a big deal. They’re trying to stop the Reality Wars. Of course, they don’t know specifically about them, but in these couple of years, there has already been a lot of tension. Everyone’s worried, and they’re hoping that the other half of the universe will help.”
“That’s okay,” Mateo said. “We’ll just teleport into a broom closet, or something.”
“Sounds cramped. Allow me to help you make it bigger. Take Moray with you.”
“Your brother? Does he have a power too?”
“Yes, as does Carlin, but it’s Moray you’ll need. Come on out,” she insisted to the aether. “Come out!” She rolled her eyes, and reached behind an invisible wall right next to her. She pulled Moray into view. At least it looked like him. He also looked about twice the age he did when they last saw him.

Saturday, July 1, 2023

The Edge: Éminence Grises (Part III)

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Leona reluctantly returned to Lylla Hall. The audience looked back at her as she was trying to slink down the aisle. She recognized a lot of these looky-loos, but not everyone. The group sitting with Divina and General Medley were probably all from Teagarden. Coronel Zararias from the Third Rail was in his own section with part of the Mozambican Naval Fleet, which was an interesting development. As she scanned the rest, she started to get the sense that everyone was in their special section, according to reality, and then more precisely to world. They were in assigned seats. Her place was up on stage, where the rest of the Shortlist was waiting. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re right on time,” Hokusai Gimura explained. “The rest of us were early.”
Leona walked up the stairs and sat down between Kestral and Weaver, though there was still an empty seat between her and Weaver that was meant for Ramses.
“Welcome,” Ishida whispered over Kestral’s lap.
“Thanks,” she whispered back. She turned to eye Weaver and her alternate self, Holly Blue, who was last seen on her way to another universe to reunite with her son.
Holly Blue smiled, and pointed at the front row. Declan was there with a handful of other kids. “I found him.”
“I’m happy for you,” Leona replied.
“All right,” Hokusai projected, standing up.
“Oh, hold up.” Ellie Underhill trotted in from sidestage, and cupped her hands over Hokusai’s mouth. “Okay, there you go.” It begged the question, if everyone else could be here, why was Leona’s team not allowed to come? It was starting to feel like they were deliberately excluded, but for what reason?
“Thanks, El,” Hokusai said in a normal voice, but the sound replicated around the auditorium for all to hear perfectly. “Hello, all. My name is Hokusai Gimura. I was born in 1985, in the main sequence. I’m a scientist. I’ve made a number of breakthroughs in temporal technology, and I did so without the benefit of time powers of my own. I had to figure it out, and that was dangerous. My friends and I formed this group, not to hoard such technology, but to protect it, and to protect the general population from it, and its risks. We are standing in the year 2400, during what my people refer to as...The Edge. Its properties are hazy, this despite the fact that we’re time travelers, and our ability to know anything is a matter of finding the right moment.
“I can’t tell you how many temporal manipulators there are in the timeline, or even how many of us are not members of the subspecies, but are heavily involved in their affairs. Yes, that’s right; they’re a subspecies, but it’s really complicated. It has more to do with their neurology than their genetics. Most of you know most of this already, but none of you knows everything. None of us knows everything. That’s what this meeting is about. We’re here to get on the same page, with each other, and with you, and to decide the fate of the universe, or at least this particular reality. The meeting will not begin today. It will, in fact, be in two days. We are here in this room to meet, and to greet. Everyone up here...and a couple of others...will introduce themselves. In addition, you have been placed in groups of your own, and we’ll ask you to introduce yourselves as well. No pressure. We’ve never done it like this before; it’s going to be very informal. We all just need to, like I said, get on the same page. I’ll stop here in case anyone has any questions at this time, but only about the schedule?”
A man in the back cleared his throat. Whoever was in charge of lighting shone a spotlight on him. It was Senator Morton. “I was to understand there were eleven of you.”
“Yes, there were. One of us has been...detoured. We all have very busy lives.”
“But you’re time travelers, so that shouldn’t matter,” Morton reasoned.
“Right.”
Leona hung her head. This was her fault. It feels wrong, doing this without Ramses. He made the choice that she wanted to make herself, and she could never thank him enough for it. Even so, there is little reason for him to not be here. Unless his mission went bad. Oh no...the mission went bad.
Hokusai went on, “we will not be discussing any individual lifepaths here. We’re not here to talk about any salmon or choosing one’s specific rules, constraints, patterns, behaviors, choices, or missions. Ramses Abdulrashid cannot be here, and he will never be able to be here. That’s okay, because we never needed a plenum to move forward. We just would have preferred it. But fear not, because there actually are eleven of us. Our final member is simply late...it happens, even in our line of business.” She leaned her head down and whispered something to Pribadium. Not even Leona could hear it, but Pribadium stood and left. Hokusai sighed. “Anything else?”
Someone they didn’t recognize stood up. “Yeah, hi. Captain Waldemar Kristiansen, Eighth of Eight here. I need to get back to my ship. I was told that the amount of time I’m wasting here will be the same amount of time I’ll be missing there. That is unacceptable.”
“I assure you, Captain, the Extremus will be fine without you for a few days.”
“Yeah, but see, you’re not starting the meeting for two days. I don’t understand—”
“Thank you, Captain Kristiansen,” Hokusai said quite dismissively.
He continued to try to speak out, but no one seemed to be able to hear him. That must be Ellie’s doing.
Hokusai went on. “Ah, here we go.” She was looking sidestage.
Pribadium had just come back, and was trying to urge someone else to come forward who was still shrouded in shadow. “Come on. Come on,” she insisted.
Finally, Aldona Calligaris stepped forth, and approached the table. “What am I doing here?” she questioned through gritted teeth.
“You have been invited,” Hokusai said to her, not using Ellie’s projection ability.
“I respectfully decline,” Aldona said.
“Not possible. You’ve proven yourself worthy, so you’re here.”
“All of my work was done in the future in the Sixth Key. It is not relevant—”
“It’s relevant to us. Sit down, please. Ramses’ seat is right there.”
Aldona sighed and plopped down with attitude. Leona took her hand, and squeezed. “Let’s stick together.”
“Okay,” Aldona agreed.
“If there is nothing else, we’ll bring out our guest of honor; our mediator. This is something that the majority of you probably don’t know, our mediator is never a member of the group. We do this intentionally, in order to keep the proceedings fair, and as unbiased as possible, as well as provide us with some insight we may not be able to find in this group of mostly like-minded scientists and researchers. Friends and allies, please welcome this meeting’s mediator, Winona Honeycutt of the Third Rail.”
The audience clapped as Winona came from backstage, and approached her seat in the center of the table. She stood and watched the audience, not smiling, but not frowning, waiting patiently for them to finish paying their respects. “Thank you, Madam Gimura, for the opportunity. And thank you, esteemed guests, for the warm welcome. I am a relative newcomer to the underground. A little bit about me, My father is a lifelong civil servant, who is still in my reality of origin, dealing with our many crises. I’ve worked in the federal government for most of my adult life as well. To be specific, I run—I mean, I ran—a covert operations joint task force that brings together the six major branches of law enforcement for my version of the United States. When temporal manipulation was discovered, I found myself as a...handler of sorts, liaising the time travelers with our corner of the government. I think that’s all I’ll say. Who’s next?”
“I’ll go next,” Hogarth volunteered.
Winona nodded at her, and started to sit down as Hogarth was standing. She then nodded at Leona. She was told that she was an important contributor to the grand mission of the Six Keys and their Keyholders to pull every world in every reality into a new universe, and save them from some mysterious force that would see them destroyed. As it turned out, Winona and the others were merely decoys, so any dissenters would not know the true plan, which was still so secretive, not even Leona knew the truth about it. Apparently, the main sequence was free from having to worry about the Reconvergence, though, which was why this meeting will go on as planned.
The rest of the members of the Shortlist introduced themselves in their own way. Brooke Prieto explained that her temporal specialty was not being able to be manipulated by temporal manipulation. Sharice Prieto talked about her origins as an Unregulated Artificial Intelligence, and Brooke’s daughter. They then continued down the line, letting everyone speak before Leona. It was like they knew that she would not want to say anything, and would rather make it brief. This way, they could argue that they were low on time, and needed to move past introductions anyway once her turn came around, so it wouldn’t be Leona’s fault. At least that was how she reasoned it, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, rather than it being because of her spite and anger. Though her anger should really have been focused on Pribadium alone, or honestly probably not even exist at all. She was being irrational and emotional.
No, she wasn’t last. That honor would go to Aldona. Leona stood up, and swallowed nervously. Ellie stepped over, and gave her the sonic projection ability. It only took a second, but the audience didn’t know how it worked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Go on. It’s okay.”
Ellie nodded, and walked back out of the limelight.
Leona scanned the audience again, not for any particular reason, but because she couldn’t think of anything to say. She wanted to participate, as Pribadium had asked. This was her duty. She was a member of this group, and she needed to help figure this all out. But she didn’t want to. Not anymore. She just didn’t care. They could claim all day that they weren’t elitist; that they were necessary...vital, even. But in the end, they were technology hoarders, and she didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, even if that was supposedly ending. “My name is Leona Matic, and I’m outta here.” She grabbed Aldona’s hand again, and pulled her up. Together, they walked off stage.

Friday, June 30, 2023

Microstory 1920: Reluctance

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Special Investigator: You found him.
Fugitive Agent: You sound surprised. How many other people did you have on this?
Special Investigator: In my line of work, Agent Parsons, we can’t afford to not be discreet. You were the only one assigned to the manhunt. I’m not surprised that you got him. I just thought that it would take longer. Does that mean it was easy?
Fugitive Agent Parsons: No, but it was painless. Well, technically there was blood...
Special Investigator: Whose blood? If it was yours, you’ll have to fill out a liability compensation form. If it was a suspect or obstacle, there’s a form for that too.
Agent Parsons: It’s nothing like that. I’ll put it all in my report, but I sort of had to...
Special Investigator: Had to what?
Agent Parsons: I had to join a group of formerly incarcerated individuals.
Special Investigator: Ah, the bond. Interesting they let you in. We’ve been trying to use them for years. You’re telling me that you have access to four dozen informants? 
Agent Parsons: It’s closer to five dozen, and yes. But I’ve agreed not to abuse my power. That was a mutual requirement. I can’t use my position as a lawman to unethically help them, and in return I’m not allowed to use my resources to hurt them, or others like them. Just because someone isn’t in the bond, doesn’t mean they’re fair game. It’s all very complicated; I can’t say too much about it.
Special Investigator: I get it. I assume you joined because our man is a member?
Agent Parsons: No. They helped me find him, but he’s not exactly from around here.
Special Investigator: So we were right. He’s from another world.
Agent Parsons: I am at liberty to divulge that he’s from another universe, but he won’t give me any details about that, or any connection he has to the entity you have in your basement, if there’s a connection to be had at all.
Special Investigator: It’s not in the basement.
Agent Parsons: Proverbially.
Special Investigator: What has he said about it?
Agent Parsons: It’s called an Ochivar. Plural is Ochivari. They’re from another universe too, but not his own. When they show up, the world is doomed. They sterilize the entire population, based on some prediction they have about the natives destroying the environment. That’s why it’s not communicating with you. They never come alone.
Special Investigator: You need to bring this guy in. We have to know more.
Agent Parsons: He doesn’t know much more, I think. He’s never encountered an Ochivar before. Evidently one of his former parolees told him about them. He doesn’t know how he ended up in our universe, and he doesn’t know how to get back to his, or how to detect anyone else coming through, or how to stop it from happening.
Special Investigator: What’s stopping him from coming to speak with us in person?
Agent Parsons: He’s spooked. He was here not ten minutes before someone threw him in jail. He wants to help, but he doesn’t trust anyone—I think, with good reason. 
Special Investigator: Give him whatever he wants. Put him up in a nice hotel suite, pay him money; whatever it takes. If he wants immunity, I’ll handle it. Will that do?
Agent Parsons: We can certainly try.

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Microstory 1919: Safehouse Social

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Leonard: I won’t help you find the others.
Fugitive Agent: That’s okay.
Leonard: I escaped with them, but I’m not with them. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you where they are...assuming I know that anyway. Which I may not.
Fugitive Agent: I’m not expecting you to tell me anything about them. They’re not my responsibility. I don’t even care that you broke out of jail. I wanted to speak with you for other reasons.
Leonard: And her? What does she want?
Freewoman: I’m just here to support him.
Leonard: Are you one of the street people...the ones who found me? They say you’re part of some sort of group of the formerly incarcerated.
Fugitive Agent: Freemen, they’re called. Or freewomen. I’m new, and still a lawman.
Leonard: I see. Well, anyway, what did you need from me?
Fugitive Agent: *looks at freewoman* The rest of the conversation will have to be in private. I was read in to certain things—
Freewoman: You don’t have to explain. I’ll go.
Fugitive Agent: We’ll talk later, okay?
Freewoman: If you want privacy, I’ll make sure you have it. No one will come near this room. Wait two minutes before you say whatever it is you can’t say in mixed company.
Leonard: [...] It’s been two minutes. Go ahead with your questions.
Fugitive Agent: Yeah, I know. I just don’t know how to start. I spent so much time trying to find you, I didn’t think much about what I was going to say.
Leonard: Well, what makes me so special? Why don’t you care about the other escapees? I’m nobody.
Fugitive Agent: You’re not, though, are you? Okay, I’m just going to say what the deal is. I was just informed of this the other day, but I saw footage of it. I don’t know if it’s real, but it came from the Office of Special Investigations, and they’re not known for their humor. It appeared to be—I don’t wanna say it...
Leonard: Don’t worry. I’ve learned to keep an open mind.
Fugitive Agent: It was an alien. At least I think it was. Maybe it was from another dimension, or maybe it’s been here this whole time, but invisible, so no human has ever seen it before. I don’t know, but it was weird, and it freaked me out—
Leonard: *leans forward in his chair* What did it look like?
Fugitive Agent: Like a bug. I think it had wings. It kind of had a human face, though. I think it can talk, but it has reportedly chosen not to. You don’t sound surprised. What is it? Do you know what it is? Its arrival matches science readings from your arrival. Did you come from the same place? What is it? Who are you? What is it!
Leonard: It sounds like an Ochivar.
Fugitive Agent: An Ochivar. Is that bad? What planet is it from? Where are you from? Are there others? Is this the beginning of a secret invasion?
Leonard: Look, I can tell you what I know, but you’ll have to calm down. It may be bad—it probably is—but let’s not jump to any conclusions. First...tell me everything.

Wednesday, June 28, 2023

Microstory 1918: Not a Wedding

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Freewoman: Are you ready to do this?
Fugitive Agent: I notice you’re wearing white. This isn’t a wedding, if I recall correctly.
Freewoman: It’s not a wedding. I just look fantastic in white.
Fugitive Agent: I would have to agree with that. What are we doing here again?
Freewoman: We’re getting couple bonded. Oh, I get it, you think you’re funny.
Fugitive Agent: Ah, had you for a second.
Freeman 2: Fugitive Agent, can we talk for a minute?
Fugitive Agent: Can it wait? We’re about to start kind of an important ceremony.
Freeman 2: That’s why we need to talk. I don’t think you have to go through with this.
Freewoman: If you wish to object to this bond, you will have your opportunity at a particular moment. Until then, I would kindly ask that you sit back down with the rest of the audience.
Freeman 2: Pardon me, miss. I meant no disrespect. It’s just that the fugitive; the one he’s been looking for? We have him.
Fugitive Agent: What do you mean, you have him? You know where he is?
Freeman 2: Yeah, but it’s more than that. He’s in pocket.
Fugitive Agent: You didn’t hurt him, did you?
Freeman 2: Of course not. We put our ears to the ground, and our spies on the skies. I guess one of our contacts screwed up, and let slip what we were doing. The dude found out we were looking for him, which could have sent him underground, but I guess he was curious, so he approached us willingly. He’s in a safehouse right now. I don’t know if you wanna go there, or if you wanna continue...
Fugitive Agent: *looks at Freewoman*
Freewoman: Go. It’s why we were doing this, and now the point is moot.
Fugitive Agent: [...] No. I made a commitment, I’m following through.
Freewoman: You’ve not made the commitment yet; that’s what I’m saying. The others will be disappointed, but they’ll understand.
Fugitive Agent: I gave you my word. The point of the bond is to be part of something bigger than yourself. This is in the best interests of everyone here, including me. I was looking forward to this for other reasons.
Freewoman: Are you sure?
Fugitive Agent: The escapee. He’s safe, right? He’s not getting antsy, and the other authorities don’t know where he is, I hope.
Freeman 2: He’s fine, last I checked. I can call the guys that are watching over him.
Fugitive Agent: That would make me feel better. If it’s urgent, we’ll postpone this, but if it’s not, we’re doing it now. One thing we’re not gonna do is cancel, Freewoman.
Freeman 2: *on the phone* Freeman 3, what’s up? Yeah, he still there?—Is he doing okay?—Okay, remind him that we’re on his side, and we’re not gonna hurt him. He’s not a prisoner. If he wants to leave, let him go, but follow him cautiously.—All right, thanks. We’ll be there soon. *hangs up* He’s all right.
Fugitive Agent: Great. Then on with the show!
Freewoman: Okay. You may proceed, Parole Counselor.

Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Microstory 1917: Not a Date

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Fugitive Agent: But this isn’t a date.
Freewoman: No, it’s not a date. It’s a bond engagement.
Fugitive Agent: You know what people call it when they agree to marry each other?
Freewoman: An engagement, I know, but that’s not what this is either. The word, in this case, means an event or gathering of two or more participant parties.
Fugitive Agent: You had that one in the chamber. Have you gone on many of these?
Freewoman: Not a one. I never thought I would be couple bonded. Honestly, I don’t generally get along well with other ex-cons.
Fugitive Agent: Yet you’re the leader of the female bond group.
Freewoman: You don’t ask to be the leader. They choose you. I’ve had to learn to accept it, as you will one day.
Fugitive Agent: Why would I ever be the leader? I’m still a lawman.
Freewoman: You’re the first to succeed in a couple bond in a long time. They’ll love that. The current leader will probably step down for you. His couple bond was dissolved.
Fugitive Agent: Really? Well, I don’t want it. I’m just doing this—
Freewoman: To find your special fugitive, I know. Like I said, I didn’t want it either.
Fugitive Agent: I see. [...] This is good salad, yeah?
Freewoman: Speaking of being a lawman, I’ve noticed how open-minded and nonjudgmental you are to us criminals. That seems...
Fugitive Agent: Out of character for someone in my position? Yes, well, the truth is that I wanted to be a parole officer, which is probably why I’m so invested in this particular assignment. The man I’m looking for is supposedly a P.O. himself—I don’t know if I told you that.
Freewoman: You didn’t. So, what happened? Why do you work for Fugitive Services?
Fugitive Agent: I’m a legacy. If you met my father, he would list all of our family’s exploits going back centuries of all the fugitives we’ve collectively caught. You wouldn’t even have to ask him about it. He’ll find a way to work it into the conversation, and then the conversation will be effectively over. The rest will be a monologue.
Freewoman: I see. [...] You’re right, this salad is good.
Fugitive Agent: Full honesty is a pillar of the freeman bond. Does the couple bond share this value?
Freewoman: It does...but we’re not bonded yet, and certain lies are grandfathered in as long as they don’t negatively impact the relationship, or our respective freedom, so don’t think you have to divulge all your secrets for it to work out.
Fugitive Agent: This isn’t about the past; it’s about the present. If we go through with this, then you should know that I...
Freewoman: You what?
Fugitive Agent: I am not...unattracted to you.
Freewoman: *smirks* I’m not unattracted to you either.
Fugitive Agent: Is that going to be a problem?
Freewoman: Only if we make it a problem.
Fugitive Agent: Good to know. *smiles*