Sunday, October 1, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 24, 2415

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
The great thing about life on Dardius was that Mateo and Karla had no responsibilities beyond caring for their child. They didn’t have to get up and go to work in the morning. They didn’t have to mow the lawn, or go out for groceries. Everything they did revolved around little Romana. They slept when she slept, and they played when she was up for it. A lot of experts will recommend not sharing a room with one’s infant, and especially not a bed, but the two of them didn’t agree. They were in little danger of accidentally harming their girl. She slept in a bassinet that was situated between the two of them in the center of a gigantic bed. Even if something happened overnight, alarms would go off, because all three of them were being monitored by medical equipment. If she woke up to cough once, the computer would log it, and if the cough kept going, and the parents didn’t wake up on their own, that alarm would go off. Karla was born to a long line of roomsharers, and this didn’t change when the Neimans made the move from Durus to Dardius. And Mateo? He wanted to give his new blended family everything they wanted or needed, so he was flexible.
Most of the rest of the team didn’t have any responsibilities either, but they were keeping themselves busy. Ramses and Leona spent a lot of time in the lab, inventing new things, and even retrofitting the shuttle. Angela and Marie wanted to learn more about the planet, its culture, and particularly the global government. They were currently in the tower next door, shadowing the owners, and sitting in on meetings. Even Constance had something to do. She decided to become Romana’s fulltime doctor. Dardius had prepared a medical team for them, but it wasn’t necessary. She possessed the knowledge and skills of four and a half billion years. She could do just about anything. After all, her prime directive was nurture and care. As for Olimpia, there was nothing. She wasn’t smart enough to work in the lab on the Dante, and she wasn’t interested in any of the boring sociopolitical stuff. She felt like a fifth wheel with the baby, so she just sat in her room, and started watching Dardieti TV. She found it a little odd. They were speaking English, and they were talking about things she had decent experience with, but it was like they were on a slightly different wavelength. Plus, she was growing bored with it too. What she needed was a native to tell her what historical programs to watch, and which ones to skip. But who has time for that?
This was a big world, and while everyone else was limiting themselves to one tiny sliver of it, she decided to go explore. They had all been able to teleport for a long time now, but hadn’t really used this power for personal reasons. There was always some specific place they needed to be, and some urgent matter to attend to there. She was just going to be a tourist. In a single day, she hiked the Mountains of Opalia, canoed on Azuria Lake, and walked the streets of Quasar City. Now, for no reason at all, she decided to return to Tribulation Island, and take a dip in the completely unpolluted ocean. But when she arrived, she was overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.
A man in military uniform was barking orders at his soldiers, who were running around, then taking formation around the Nexus. Two helicopters were flying overhead. A fleet of ships sat at various distances in the water. Olimpia thought about just leaving, since this wasn’t her business, but her curiosity got the better of her. She noticed one soldier standing separately from the others, staring out over the sea, instead of towards the Nexus building. “Forgive me. Is it all right if I ask what’s going on here?”
“How did you—oh, Miss Sangster. It’s an honor, but you should leave. It’s not safe here.” She lifted her binoculars back up to scan the horizon.
“What’s happening?”
“There’s been an incursion in the Nexus. And unauthorized visitor has come through. Don’t ask me who were why, because it’s not my job to know. I’m here to keep a lookout, in case the true threat is coming from out there, and the Nexus arrival was nothing more than a distraction.”
Olimpia looked over to see that others like her were staring up at the sky, a few of them with telescopes. “I’ve seen in movies, distractions like that. You’re smart to be concerned with other points of entry.”
“It’s unlikely anyone will come by sea, in such a sparsely populated remote galaxy, but it’s not impossible for someone to have secretly landed in deeper waters, and are now making their way here. We always keep an eye on the vastness, but we’re on high alert right now.”
Olimpia looked behind them. “My team and I just arrived through the Nexus.”
“I am aware.”
“How many visitors do you receive on average?”
“Almost none these days. We don’t make many rescues anymore.”
“So, it’s probably not a coincidence,” Olimpia guessed.
The soldier lowered the binoculars. “That’s why it’s not safe. They could be coming for you. I do not believe your team has been informed of the development, or you would not be the only one here.”
“I teleported here on a whim. I don’t know what the others are doing.”
“I urge you to go find out, to tell no one of what’s happening here, and to never return to the island unless a trusted authority has assured you that it is no longer a risk.”
No. There was no such thing as a coincidence when it came to time travelers. She may have thought that she came to this island just to feel the waves tickle her ankles, but she was here for a reason. It was her job to represent the interests of Team Matic. It was her job to keep the others safe from whatever was going on here. They all had important things to deal with. As the only free agent, it was the least she could do. “Thanks, soldier.” She stepped away and walked up to the General. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Miss Sangster.”
She waited a beat. “Report.”
“A group of six people came through the Nexus. We have safeguards in place that prevent anyone from doing that unless they call ahead.”
We didn’t call ahead.”
“Unless they call ahead, or it was prearranged,” the General clarified.
She nodded. “What are their names?”
“They’ve not said. They claim to be representatives of a multireality advocacy group working towards a cooperative future in the Sixth Key. I don’t know exactly what that means, but we’ve quarantined them in there until we can figure out how they breached our security, and why we’ve been locked out of the controls.”
“Did they say anything else?”
“They would like to establish diplomatic relations with Dardius.”
She nodded again. “I’m going in.”
The General sighed. “I can’t stop you, but I can advise you to not.”
“Noted,” she said simply. She turned to face the building, and prepared herself. Then she teleported in.
The six strangers were standing in a circle in the Nexus cavity, talking amongst themselves. When one of them noticed Olimpia’s arrival, she indicated as much with her eyes, prompting the others to turn. “Hello.” An apparent leader took one step forward, but stayed in the pit. “My name is Heath Walton of the Third Rail. Do you represent Dardian interests?”
“Dardieti,” she corrected.
He closed his eyelids softly, and nodded. “Apologies.”
“And no, I don’t.” She pulled out her handheld device, and ran a search. Heath Walton did not appear on her list of people she had met. But he was on everyone else’s. “The name of your wife.”
“Marie. Angela Marie Walton.”
“What happened to her?”
“It’s complicated. Do you know her?”
“Why are you here?”
“To establish—”
“Diplomatic relations with Darius,” she interrupted. “Yes, I’ve heard.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You do not have diplomatic experience yourself, yet they sent you?”
“Nobody sends me anywhere. I do as I please.”
“Ah. So you’re one of the elite travelers; someone so powerful that smart people know that it’s safer to just let you make your own choices than to try to get in your way, and risk turning you into an enemy. Yes, Marie is like that as well.”
“There is a Fifth Divisioner; his name, we’ve never known,” Olimpia began.
Heath’s face fell. He knew where she was going with this.
“He imprisoned Team Matic. What do you know of this?”
Heath nodded. “He was one of the few of us who happened to be in the main sequence during the Reconvergence. A copy of him materialized in the Sixth Key, and he established contact with his alternate self. He joined our group, and we asked him to find and secure Team Matic so they could return to our new universe. I wanted to see my wife again, and to offer them all to join us. They are a source of inspiration for many, and we were hoping they— wait, you’re Olimpia Sangster.”
“And if I am?”
He didn’t really answer the question. “What happened to you was wrong. We charged that man with getting you back to us. He thought that we wanted him to hurt you. He is an idiot, and an asshole, and both versions of him have since been removed from our organization. I apologize for the trouble, and the trauma. That is not what we are about. We are aware of the impending war between realities, and we are doing everything we can to stop it. We came to ask Dardius for its guidance, but since you are here as well, we ask the same of you.”
She scanned the representatives. “Do any of you have powers; temporal, psychic, or otherwise?”
“No, not even the one from the Parallel.” Heath answered, shaking his head.
Olimpia teleported out and returned a minute later with zip ties. “Let the military take you in for questioning. I’ll speak with my friends. We’ll get back to you next year.”

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Extremus: Year 59

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
It’s happening. Attic Forest is this close to becoming a real thing. It has been a grueling year and a half, but Tinaya and Lilian managed to amass enough support to get approval to build it. The Resource Allocation Authority was not easy on them, and put up every roadblock they could come up with. The two of them were required to include in their proposal every little detail, right down to every individual plant in its individual location, to the size of the screws that would be used for the ventilation grate that was in the portside corner with the stern. Even then, they weren’t allowed to just go do it unless they proved that the people of the ship actually wanted it. Well, it wasn’t the kind of thing that could be left to a popular vote. The level of support they were receiving for it was so subjective, and at the mercy of other people’s interpretation. They did interviews for the newspaper, and went on talk shows. Tinaya was more in charge of all that, since Lilian didn’t like the attention, but that was okay, because that was how they sold the story. Lilian was the genius behind the design. Tinaya was the face. They made it work.
Not everyone is as jazzed about this as they are, of course, but there are no unambiguous detractors. Captain Tamm has made a point of staying out of it. He claims that this is a matter for the civilians, and the civilian government, but that’s just political posturing. It’s a waste of his political energy too. He still lives on this ship, and could support it on a personal level. He’s trying to play both sides, even though there aren’t really two sides to the issue. There’s little opposition to it; mostly people who don’t care, or don’t think it’s necessary. It’s ridiculous, really, because he’s guaranteed the captaincy for the duration of his shift, unless he does something to lose the faith of the crew, government, or passengers. It’s not like he should be worried about reëlection. It’s ‘cause he’s an idiot. There’s no better way to describe it.
“Thank you, and welcome back. I’m your host, Zorion Azarola, and this...is Over the Desk.” This is one of those talk shows now. Zorion Azarola is known for his stoic and serious demeanor while he lobs his guests softball questions. Exactly what his gimmick is here, no one really understands. Maybe he thinks he hits harder than he actually does, or maybe it’s all one big joke. Either way, this is their final unofficial hurdle before the  vote. Once it passes, construction can begin on the forest, and tonight is their last chance to convince the committee. That’s why Lilian is here.
Unlike other shows of this type, the view never switches to different angles, and the blocking is very simple. That’s partially because there is no crew to speak of. The apparent idea is to be raw and sincere. The camera is on a tripod, pointing straight forward from the edge of the desk. Zorion is on one side, and up to two guests can sit at his opposite. It’s been dressed up like an office, but the books on the shelves are fake, and the knick knacks scattered about likely hold no sentimental value to Zorion. He must think of himself as the college advisor type, and the guests as his students, who he’s trying to help reach their potential. Tinaya has decided to play into it. Lilian has decided to sit there like a block of ice. She really struggles with these things.
“Captain Leithe,” he begins. “Can I call you Captain Leithe?”
This would normally be the time where she replies with an absolutely not, and a little bit of attitude, but she has to look like a saint here; a saint who can play ball. Everyone is amazing, and all of the things they say are good, and not stupid. So what would be the most polite way to word this? “It is an inaccurate, and inappropriate, title at this time. Captain Tamm is the Captain. I am a Junior Forest Guide.” That’s a new title that they came up with, which won’t be entirely accurate either until there’s an actual forest through which to guide visitors, but it’s fine.
“All right, Guide Leithe. How excited are you that this measure is about to pass?”
“I’m very excited to see this project come to fruition. It has been a long road to get here, and I feel lucky to be a part of it. And that’s what I am, a part. If I owned the whole ship, I could do whatever I wanted, but we’re all living here, and none of this would be possible if the people didn’t want it. It’s important to note that the measure has not quite passed yet. The committee is yet to vote. We’re confident in the outcome, but whatever it is, we will respect their decision, because we trust their judgment.”
“Yes, the...” Zorion stops to check his notes, or at least pretend that he is. “The Committee for Special Projects. That’s a new one, right?”
“Yes, it’s composed of government leaders, respected community leaders, and a few crewmembers. I was not the least bit involved in creating it. Obviously, it would be a conflict of interest for me. So if you have any further questions regarding the matter, I’m afraid you’ll have to call some else into your office.” She said it with a smile to keep it light. But really, she’s annoyed, because people do ask her a lot of questions about the committee, as if she’s some expert on them just because she and Lilian are the ones whose request triggered its creation. What she just told Zorion is the result of her cursory research into the subject, and she refuses to compound it with further information. It’s not her job to know, or care.”
“Fair enough,” he replies with a polite smile as well, and a mildly defensive hand gesture. He flips through his notecards, which are made of paper. Paper is made out of the wood of trees. It’s this whole process that Extremusians have never used, but recent events have changed things. Out here in the void, stars are few and far between. They do exist. Despite what some believe, intergalactic voids are not totally empty. There are probably about as many celestial objects in them as there are within the boundaries of galaxies. It’s just that the voids are so much more vast, these objects are so spread out, and difficult to find. This is why Captain Halan Yenant knew that changing course into the void was not damning his descendants to the curse of never finding a home. It’s out here, somewhere; most people still believe that. But still, it’s impossible to know for sure, especially since—even before they started heading into the void—they had not found any habitable planets along their journey. This all changed last year.
In order to maintain the ship and its systems, the engineers send automated probes to star systems as they pass by them. Since Extremus literally never stops, the only way to make use of the data and resources found in these systems is to send the probes into the past, so that they’re actually waiting for them a minute or two after departing. They don’t have to do this all the time. In fact, the original designers tried to plan a trip that would require no side missions at all. But it was necessary to come up with a solution to a problem once, and now that they know they can do it, resources are being taken for granted, forcing them to continue doing it every once in a while. Now they send probes all the time, but usually for different purposes. The majority of them are simply cataloging what they’ve found. The discovery of a world with plantlife was the biggest shocker since Admiral Olindse Belo’s disappearance a quarter century ago.
Tinaya doesn’t have all the details, because she is not yet part of the group of people making decisions about this sort of thing, but the public was made aware of the discovery when it happened. And it was also shown samples of the plants they found, which an entirely different department from Lilian’s is handling. One thing they’ve done with their samples is manufacture paper. It’s a luxury that requires an extremely high contribution score to earn. Hosting a broadcast series is one of those things that can keep your score high enough for such luxuries, though, which explains why Zorion is making use of his stash of physical paper. Obviously Tinaya couldn’t care less about paper, but she’s interested in a day when the plants they found on that planet might one day become part of hers and Lilian’s forest. That would make the accomplishment all the sweeter.
He finishes flipping through the notecards. “Sorry about that, I’ve realized that a lot of the questions I was planning to ask you have already been answered.” He pauses for a moment. “Or at least they’ve been asked.”
Oh, no. Where is this going? He’s not wrong. She’s answered the same questions in these interviews multiple times, and it’s become annoying for her, but he’s the first interviewer to express any concern over it. How can she stop him from asking whatever he thinks he should ask her? “I suppose...” She trails off, but makes it clear that she’s not finished with her thought. She just needs to find the words. “It’s just...what’s happening here is quite simple. Parks and forests promote a healthy and satisfying life. All studies from Earth, its neighboring orbitals, and its colonies in the stellar neighborhood, have proven time and time again that stone, metal, and metamaterials just. Don’t. Cut it. Life wants to be around other life. It is a biological imperative, and regardless of what we have been forced to endure in our history, on Ansutah, in the cylinders, and yes, even on Extremus...we are still human. All life naturally evolved to thrive on Earth. Except for those aliens plants we found, I guess...and the ones on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. Earth is positively brimming with life. And that second exception only proves the point, because it’s just another example of how it works. Life craves life.
“It’s not so much that Lilian and I want this project to go through. It’s that the Extremusians need it. You will be so happy when you get to go there for the first time. Your brain will release chemicals that will make your heart and soul feel good. You’ll feel human again, and that may be hard to beehive now, because you don’t know you’re missing yet. But it will be there. Your life will improve, I promise you that. Everyone who lives on this ship will be that much happier for it...until we find our Promised Land on our ultimate destination. We’re not on our way to find some rock in the middle of nowhere, are we? Who needs that? We can find that anywhere. Who gives a shit how far from Gatewood we’ve flown? We’ve always been looking for the forest. We’ve always been looking for life. All we’re doing is...letting those of us who will not be alive to see the Extremus planet get just a small taste of what our descendants will know and love.” Tinaya turns to face the camera, which Zorion discourages, but this is too important. “For the members of the committee who are watching this, there is only one choice here. If Extremus doesn’t get its forest, it will die. I’m not just talking about contribution scores. Our success as a people; our mission...depends on it. If you don’t believe me, just go to the park that we do have. Multiply the feeling you get by a thousand.”
“Wow,” Zorion said. “Well said, Junior Forest Guide Leithe.”
“She’s a Senior Forest Guide, Mr. Azarola,” Lilian said after being silent this entire time.”
“Well.” He takes a breath. “I believe this is a good time for a break. We’ll return with our next guest soon.” With a smile, he lifts his remote, and switches off the camera.
The next day, the vote passes. Project Attic Forest is a go.

Friday, September 29, 2023

Microstory 1985: New Direction

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Henley: O.
Ophelia: Yeah, is everything okay?
Henley: No, the others are getting antsy.
Ophelia: All we can do is wait. No one knows we’re here. I mean, of course the others do, but no one we need to be worried about.
Henley: They’re not worried about being discovered. But we all know that we can’t stay here forever. You have a family to get back to, don’t you?
Ophelia: Yes. And the only way I can keep them safe right now is to stay away from them. I hope you’re not thinking of contacting your family.
Henley: Of course not, but what’s going to happen afterwards? Parsons and the others are trying to fix this, but what if it can’t be fixed?
Ophelia: I don’t know. No one knows. That’s how life works.
Henley: Can you talk to them?
Ophelia: Are they all in that big room we’ve been eating out of?
Henley: Yeah, I think they’re expecting you.
Ophelia: Very well. *walks down to the room* Hello, everyone.
*they start to inundate her with questions and complaints*
Henley: All right, settle down. You can’t talk all at once.
Ophelia: Thank you. I have something to say. I know that we’re all sort of freaking out right now, but that’s not going to help. We have each been through worse. That’s how we ended up here. We’re doing something that has never been done before. We’re preparing for an alien invasion, and no matter what happens after the dust settles, that will always be true. When these damn locusts show up en masse, the world will see what we’ve seen, and they will know that you saw them first. They will learn how you fought against them, despite having no legal or moral obligation to. You could have gone home, and hidden in your bathtubs. You could have just completely ignored the risk. But you stood at the frontlines, and I commend you for that. One day, the history books will too. Now, by raising your hands, does anyone have any specific questions about what we should do, or what we can do about our situation? Yes, Yanna.
Yanna: When will we receive any news? Have you planned a call with Agent Parsons, or something? I think what’s causing the anxiety is not having any sort of timetable.
Ophelia: We have each other’s burner phone numbers. He’ll contact us when there’s an update worthy of our attention. It will come soon. We came up with a few code words in case he finds himself in mixed company. It’s best if you don’t know any more than that.
Reese: *steps in from the hallway* None of that will be necessary anyway.
Henley: Agent Parsons. Or should I call you Subdirector Parsons?
Reese: Neither. *pauses for dramatic effect* I’ve just been in meeting after meeting after meeting. It was all very boring, but your jobs are waiting for you when you’re ready to come back. I’m not the subdirector, but a full director. The Department of Exogenic Affairs is being spun out into its own full department. We’re no longer working under Special Investigations, but the executive branch of government. I answer directly to the National Commander. You can all relax. Everything’s gonna be okay.

Thursday, September 28, 2023

Microstory 1984: Pancakes Come First

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Myka: Are we sure about this?
Reese: No, but everyone else is safe at the third location, and this is the best chance we have to getting our jobs back. I want to work with Director Washington, but we have to make sure that we can trust her.
Myka: Anaïs doesn’t think she’s a mole.
Reese: Even if she isn’t, she may lock us all up just because we ran. This is the best test I can come up with. Well...Anaïs came up with it, but I approved it, so the responsibility falls upon my shoulders. Of course, she could pass with flying colors, and then screw us over later, so maybe none of this matters.
Leonard: Today cannot be understood before tomorrow becomes yesterday.
Myka: Did you come up with that?
Leonard: It’s from a poet from my world.
Myka: *sighing after a pause* Why didn’t we give the Director the third location, and keep everyone safe here. Isn’t Micro upset about this place possibly being burned.
Micro: *walking up* This is a great lair. She’ll believe it’s where we’ve been hiding, because we have. I don’t mind it being burned. I have more copies of this in other universes. Don’t you worry your pretty little self about me.
Reese: You don’t have to be here, though. You can hide with the others.
Micro: Like she’d believe you could do any of this without me. *starts to step away*
Reese: Hey, wait. How are your sensors? Are you detecting any strike team?
Micro: A-okay, boss. We’re clear. Balls to the wall. Once more, unto the breach. That’s poetry from my world. [...] She’s here, doe.
*after a few moments, the door opens, and Director Washington comes in alone*
Reese: *clearing his throat* Madam Director, you found it.
Director Washington: It wasn’t that hard. I didn’t start out in an office, you know.
Reese: Of course, sir. Thank you for coming. Juice? Tea? Pastries?
Washington: Is this Sunday brunch, or did you wanna discuss business?
Reese: I want us to come back together.
Washington: That’s what I want too, Subdirector Parsons. You’re the ones who left. *looking around* Where is everyone else anyway?
Reese: Valentine Duval is working security. Everyone else is presently...out.
Washington: *thinking about it* This was a test. You only gave me your location to see what I would do with this information? You thought I might attack?
Micro: *coming back into the main area* Yeah, you came alone. What’s with that? Don’t you have your own bodyguards?
Washington: Like I was just saying, I was not always an administrator. I can look after myself. Now. Subdirector Parsons—
Reese: Am I still a subdirector? Am I anything to the government but a fugitive?
Washington: Yes, Subdirector Parsons. I know that we are in the midst of corruption issues, and I know that you are not one of these corrupted people. I would be glad to discuss reintegration, but first...you must tell me where the others are.
Micro: No, first...pancakes.

Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Microstory 1983: The Choice of Risk

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Reese: How are things going at headquarters?
Anaïs: They’re fine.
Reese: Do you need us to pull you out? Just say the word. Don’t feel obligated.
Anaïs: I’m not just being a big brave girl, Agent. I really am fine. I still feel safe there.
Reese: Okay. So what’s the update?
Anaïs: Washington is finished with her interrogations. She spoke with everyone, and determined that there aren’t any other moles in the department.
Reese: Well...who interrogated Director Washington?
Anaïs: I know that that’s what we’ve been worried about, but I think she cleared her own name in the process. She could have found a mole, and thrown them under the bus, which would have thrown suspicion off of herself. It wouldn’t even have to be real.
Reese: So the fact that she isn’t outwardly doing anything to try to cover her tracks is telling you that she doesn’t have any tracks to cover? I’m sorry, that’s a weak argument. She may just feel comfortable enough in her position.
Anaïs: True, but I’m not the only one working on the problem, am I? Tell me, what has Micro uncovered during her external investigation.
Reese: *nods* Washington does seem clean. We’ve found no indication that she’s making more money than she earns at the office. She’s not making any unusual phone calls. Evidently she visited the original training facility, and picked Sergeant Sachs out after watching him spar, and reading his file. They didn’t know each other before.
Anaïs: Parsons, we don’t have much reason not to trust her. I think she was duped just as much as we were. She really wants to figure this out, and she’s working really hard to do that. I really think she’s all right. She did have a sour word to say about any of you.
Reese: Are you saying that we should try to come back in?
Anaïs: *stepping away to pace a little* It may not be yet time for that, but I do have another test we could try.
Reese: What would that be?
Anaïs: *spins back around* You’re not going to like it.
Reese: Is it dangerous?
Anaïs: No, I wouldn’t say that. In fact, you might be okay with it. If it goes poorly, at least we’ll know that I’m wrong, and she’s a traitor, but if it goes well...
Reese: Yeah...?
Anaïs: If it goes well, Washington might be the one who ends up not too happy.
Reese: All right. Spit it out.
Anaïs: I can go back to her, say that I’ve been looking for you—
Reese: No, that is dangerous.
Anaïs: I’m not even done explaining it.
Reese: It doesn’t matter. If you trust her, then either you and I should stop talking, and you’ll go back there fulltime, or we’ll pull you out and protect you, but you’re not going to put yourself at such risk. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.
Anaïs: And that would be my choice. It’s a good plan, and I’m at less risk than you think. Why don’t you just wait until you hear the rest of it, okay?

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

Microstory 1982: Accusations

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Flynn: The Director has pulled up. What do you think she wants to talk to us about?
Celandine: She’s looking for the mole. She’ll be interrogating us for information.
Anaïs: Unless she’s a mole too, in which case the whole thing will be a charade. She may even be intending to frame one of us for it, so she stays in the shadows.
Flynn: You don’t really think she’s a traitor, do you?
Anaïs: Sachs is, and she chose him to join our tack team.
Celandine: That’s proof of nothing. Careful where you throw your accusations.
Anaïs: Why, because they’ll come flying back at me?
Celandine: Maybe.
Flynn: Easy, ladies. We’re all on the same side. Now, I don’t know if the Director is dirty, just like I don’t know if I can trust all these new agents around us. I felt so much more comfortable around the freepersons than I ever thought I would. But the one thing I do know is that I’ve been working with you two for months, and you’re definitely clean. Can we all at least just agree on that, and stick together?
Anaïs: I can.
Celandine: I can too. You’re right, Flynn. *sighs* She’s here. Get ready.
Director Washington: *walking up* Agent Robles, please gather the troops. I would like to address the group as a whole. I do not like repeating myself.
Celandine: Apologies, sir, I’m not in charge here.
*Washington looks over at Investigator Blass*
Blass: It’s true, sir. Herzog made a declaration after the others...after the exodus.
Washington: Investigator Blass, always with the politically safe verbiage. Very well. Go find him, and relay the order. In the meantime, Agent Robles, do you have tea?
*later, in the bullpen, with everyone in the department*
Washington: Last week, we unmasked a traitor in our ranks. Sergeant Sachs was a dedicated soldier, a patriot, and a good man. How he lost his way is something that I have assigned a team to figure out. This small group behind me is here to do the same with the rest of you. I’m going to be honest with you, we don’t know if he was working alone. He could have been a lone zealot, or there are others in your ranks. Or there are others, but they’ve been assigned to other departments. We truly do not know. If you are a mole, this may make you feel safe, comfortable. But I assure you that I will use every tool in my box to root out the cancer in the government, be it one of you, or even the National Commander himself. The aliens are here, and the last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves when they make their next moves. We have to be ready, and this department was originally formed to do that. I’m saddened that it has disintegrated so epically quickly. In the next coming days, you will be questioned. Your backgrounds will be rechecked, and rechecked, and then re-rechecked. Your associates will be investigated, and your history will be traced. In the meantime, you will continue your training here, under the leadership of Agent Robles here. Who is Agent Herzog?
Herzog: Right here, sir. I took the initiative when the defectors...defected.
Washington: I heard. You’re fired, and you’ll be the first in the hot seat. No one does anything without my orders. Does everyone else at least understand that?

Monday, September 25, 2023

Microstory 1981: Defenses

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Leonard: Oh. I just came down here to shore up our defenses.
Myka: Same. I wanna make sure we know our exits. This is an interesting tunnel.
Leonard: Yeah, it is. Must have a purpose. Well, I’ll go find something else to do.
Myka: Are you avoiding me?
Leonard: Of course not. Why would I do that?
Myka: Well, the last time we spoke, you were leaving on your hush-hush mission—
Leonard: I was compelled not to tell you what we were doing. I didn’t even know much about it myself. We didn’t learn the details until we arrived, and even then there was a lot of improvisation involved.
Myka: I’m not mad at you for keeping it secret. I’m just saying...we were growing closer, and since you’ve been back, I feel like you’re a different person.
Leonard: I guess I kind of am different. I’ve been in situations like that before, but not quite like it. I’ve never been rogue. This is all very strange to me.
Myka: I’m fascinated by you, Leonard, and I want to know what you mean by that.
Leonard: What I mean by it being strange?
Myka: What you mean that you’ve been in such situations. You were a parole officer, but it sounds like you were so much more than that. You’ve told me that you’ve been on missions before, which is not in the job description on our planet. *waits for a response that doesn’t come* It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but I just thought...
Leonard: Thought what? Go on.
Myka: I thought that there was something between us, but maybe I’m way off base.
Leonard: You’re not, but it’s complicated. I had just finalized my divorce before I arrived here. I mean that literally. I signed the papers, then stepped outside to mail them on my way to meet a friend. I forgot something inside, so I went back in real quick, and when I opened the door again, I was here. I didn’t even notice that something was weird until I looked up and realized that I was no longer in my neighborhood. My first thought was that I lost time, but then the patrol officer started talking about the National Commander, instead of the President, and I knew that something was really wrong. I think my mail went through, but I don’t know that for sure. Maybe I’m remembering that wrong. Maybe I’m not really divorced.
Myka: Forgive me, but it sounds like you are regardless. A divorce doesn’t happen once the lawyers get the paperwork. It happens when you decide that it needs to. Of course, until those papers are signed, you can always change your mind, but you did sign them. You did make that decision, and your ex did too, didn’t they?
Leonard: Yeah, she signed them first.
Myka: I’m not asking for your love, I’m just asking what your love is gonna take.
Leonard: Those are song lyrics where I come from. Did you do that on purpose?
Myka: A man I once knew said that to me long ago. Maybe he was from your universe too. Look, I know we’re dealing with a lot right now, but we both deserve to be happy. I just want you to know that it’s okay to be a little selfish. Not everything is about DExA.
Leonard: You’re right. But let’s start slow. We can’t really go out to eat, so...wanna check out the shooting range that Micro apparently built herself?

Sunday, September 24, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 23, 2414

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Mateo was the one to donate his blood to Karla, so she could start skipping time, and remain on the same pattern as their daughter. This was intentionally a temporary fix, just in case she changed her mind later. It made sense on paper to stay this way forever, but she may decide that it would be best for her to always be waiting for little Romana to return to the timestream. She had about a week to decide, and if she still wasn’t sure, they could always give her a second dose of the temporary pattern-sharing serum, instead of the permanent one. Perhaps they would just keep doing it like that. Neither Cassidy nor Mateo had a problem with this eventuality.
She was a very special little baby. Generally speaking, the first time a person travels through time—and usually to a lesser degree for every subsequent trip—it’s a jarring experience. It can come with sometimes very nasty side effects, such as nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, or diarrhea, among other possibilities. These symptoms can come on in the moments leading up to the jump, and last for minutes or hours afterwards. For Romana, she seemed to have no issue at all. As midnight central approached, she giggled, as if it were a pleasurable experience for her. It probably was. It wasn’t the first time she did it; just the first time after she was born. The truth was that it had happened to her about 270 times before this. It was part of who she was, in a deeper sense than most time travelers, including her own father. Meliora Rutherford, the daughter of this building’s namescape, was likely the only person with some understanding of what Romana’s is going through right now. They couldn’t wait until she was verbal.
It was April 23, 2414 on Dardius right now. The Dardieti toyed with their own calendar for a while before deciding to conform to that of Earth’s. A dying man was sent back in time about two millennia to let his final act alive be setting the flag of Dardius in the North Pole. His remains were discovered beside the now-buried remnants of that flag in recent days. His fusion-powered solar watch was still ticking, allowing them to accept the calendar as real. Of course, this was but a symbolic gesture. There was no real reason why they couldn’t simply deliberately have declared what year it was without technically starting at zero, but it made it a little easier to believe in.
Leona was sitting on the huge penthouse balcony, watching the sun rise. The arch that the Isaac Skybridge created was facing north and south, so the sun came up over Lincoln Tower, and set over Rutherford Tower. It was beautiful up here. There was no rule that LIR Towers had to be the tallest structure in the city, but it was. In fact, it remained the tallest one in the world. They were pretty lucky to live here now, and hopefully it would last. Leona being the cynic of the group, was not so convinced, but she wasn’t about to let that on to anyone else. It wasn’t helpful. So she was regarding the sky, and appreciating the time that they did have in this wondrous place. As she sat there, she started to feel a pull behind her. It was Ramses, calling to her from the Dante using their empathetic bond. She stood up, and teleported to the shuttle.
Ramses was in his laboratory pocket dimension, hunched over his table, studying something with his ocular loupes. “I’m hoping not to have disturbed you. It did not feel as if you were asleep.”
“I did not sleep,” Leona clarified. “None of us but Mateo did. Did you see the bed they designed for him and Karla?”
Ramses looks up from his work. “No? This sounds juicy.”
She laughed. “It’s a giant king-plus sized bed with a bassinet installed in the center, so co-parents can sleep on either side of the baby.”
He chuckled. “Cute.”
“I should say, I don’t think the concept was inspired by them. I believe it’s a normal product that anyone can order, but this one was custom-made as a gift from a friend of the family, or maybe just a fan.”
“Who knows, this planet is weird.”
“What are you working on there?”
“The rosary.” He lifted it up with a pair of tweezers. “I’ve been trying to get it to work. So far, I’ve been able to guess at its function, but not actually trigger its power.”
She looked upon it. “I forgot about this thing. It definitely works. I’ve seen it used. You, or someone who looks very much like you, used it at The Edge meeting. And someone who looked very much like you popped in and out of the timeline while I was gone to take things from the team.” It could be that the real version of him was never destined to use it. Ramses was in possession of it now, and Future!Leona will have it at some point later. It pretty much had to be in that order, because Ramses took it directly from Arcadia in another brane, but that was the extent of their understanding of the thing. It didn’t mean he would ever figure out how to operate it. “What does it do?”
“I think...it counteracts time.”
“In what way?”
“Well, you said that this other Ramses—maybe Future!Me, maybe always Future!Leona—would squeeze it and disappear. That sounds like your average time travel or teleportation. But if that’s the case, why is it so coveted? Why does it matter? Plenty of people can do that on their own, there’s no real reason for anyone else to want it, especially not Future!Leona. She can do a ton of things. My best guess is that when someone uses it, they separate themselves from whatever time is doing to them in that moment. If they’re moving forward in time at typical speed, maybe they move backwards, or maybe just slower. If true, it could be reapplied to other temporal manipulations, such as breaking out of a time bubble, or undoing illusions, like invisibility.”
Leona looked away to think. “Or time jump patterns.”
He nodded solemnly. “It could...cure us. That is, if you look at it as a disease, which I personally don’t. After all, I did this to myself on purpose.”
She nodded back, just as solemnly. “But it could cure Romana. She could be a normal little girl.”
“That’s not my call, and like I said, I can’t turn it on.” He stood up, and walked over to a locker. “But that’s not all I wanted to show you this morning. Unlike the rosary, Dante 2.0 is complete.”
“Two-point-oh?” Leona questioned.
He smiled as he took what looked like a parachute pack out, and held it open. “Well, come on and put it on.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What, you don’t trust me?”
“Not as far as I can throw you.”
He shook the pack, and then started helping her arms through the straps. “We’re five hundred meters up in the air, my dear. You could throw me quite far.” He came around and closed the waist buckle and chest buckle for her. “Looks good on ya.
“A parachute’s not gonna fit in here.”
He laughed. “It’s not a parachute.” He turned around so they were facing the same direction, and shook his hands accordingly. “Left is open, right is closed. I’m working on a special function that happens when you pull them at the same time, but that’s not ready yet. For now, that will just do nothing.”
“You’ve still not yet said what either one of the other cords does.”
He smiled knowingly, and pulled the right cord for her. Everything around them started to collapse in on itself, and become sucked into the pack as it shrank. In seconds, the whole Dante was gone, and they were standing in the open air on the top of the Isaac Skybridge.
“Oh. That makes sense. It’s just like the Phoenix.”
“It was already designed to potentially be collapsed into an uninhabitable pocket dimension of its own. All I had to do was reprogram it to collapse into this thing, instead of the suitcase that the rest of the capital ship goes into. The only thing is, if this shuttle were ever to be reunited with the Phoenix, I’m not sure whether it would function correctly or safely. It may go ahead and fall into the suitcase along with everything else, or it’ll be vaporized.” He grimaced at the thought.
She shook her head. “We’re never getting the Phoenix back. The people from the afterlife simulation need it more than we ever could.”
Suddenly, guardsmen from both towers rushed onto the bridge, and pointed their weapons in strategic directions. “Is everything okay, sirs?” one of them asked. “Your shuttle disappeared!”
“Everything’s fine!” Leona assured them. I just...put it in my bag!”
They were still on high alert. “Are you quite certain? We can protect you from anything!” the leader from Rutherford Tower added.
“Really, it’s fine! We didn’t mean to alarm you. Um...” She switched to false bravado. “Return to your posts, please. I think I’m going to..take it out of the bag again!”
The guardsmen retreated into their respective towers, except for one. He was just a kid, surely no older than nineteen. He held his gun at the low ready position. He was trying to avoid eye contact like he was really trying to avoid being noticed.
“You may go, soldier!” Ramses encouraged.
“I was actually hoping to, um...see it?”
“From outside, or in?” Ramses asked him.
The young man thought about it. “Both!”
Leona removed the Dante pack, and handed it to Ramses. She approached the soldier. “What’s your name, son?”
“Mercari, sir. Officer Mercari. This is my first week.”
“Are you related to Andromeda Mercari?”
“Distantly, sir. I...I can’t remember the family tree.”
“You don’t have to call me sir. I’m just a person. Why don’t you set that gun down? I don’t like weapons.”
Officer Mercari switched the safety on, and set the rifle down against the wall.
“We’ll start out here. Go ahead and do it!” she called over to Ramses.