Quote:Does Maico Tange break cover, or does she keep The Secret despite this blatant "reality quake"? And if she does break cover, what can she do?
Well....
November 25, 2016
Canberra, Australia
Maico Tange sat at her favorite little cafe in the heart of the Capital Territory, going over her report for the last week and wondered exactly when the multiverse decided to stop making sense. It might've been the time when a group of people Maico damn well knew were not real decided to make a stopover in Fenspace. The report on that little escapade had thrown Infinity into a tizzy. This report was going to be worse, if anything.
Dear Infinity,she thought, turns out that almost everything we knew about parachronics was wrong. As proof, here's a version of the United States straight out of a Homeline novel transported to Gernsback-2 by parties unknown for reasons unknown. Please don't tell Dr. Van Zandt, he'll be so disappointed. Love, Maico.
Oh no, this was not a report she was looking forward to making.
“Having trouble there, missy?”
Maico looked up from her laptop. Standing in front of her was a shortish man not much older than she was. His broad Chinese features held a slight frown that belied his broad, genial Ocker accent. Maico knew that accent was a little too broad and genial to fit the man who used it, in order to hide an accent that didn't quite fit into the known categories of Gernsbackian English. She recognized him right off the bat.
“Oh, sit down already, Chang. And buy me a drink, please. I could use one.”
Mohammed Chang, Maico's opposite number from the fearsome Centrum, slid into the chair across from her. “Of course,” he said, “this place has a way of driving people to drink.” He flagged a waitress down with practiced ease and placed a drink order.
“So,” he said as the waitress walked off. “What are you telling your superiors about this latest... event?”
Maico's eyes narrowed. “What are you telling your superiors?” she asked. This was an old game of theirs, ever since they'd first encountered each other at this same cafe years ago.
“I have informed my superior, the esteemed Grade 5 Goldstein,” Chang said gravely, “that this worldline has once again confounded all our understanding of parachronic physics, and that a mere Grade 4 like myself hasn't the slightest fucking clue what's going on, and that Secundus – excuse me, Infinity – feels much the same way.”
“Well... that's what my report will end up like too,” Maico sighed. “The natives seem to be taking well enough, though.”
“The natives have been dealing with this... irrationality for almost ten years now,” Chang replied. “I think they're just numb at this point.”
“That's a distinct possibility.”
“Indeed. So. What are we going to do about it?”
“That's out of our pay grade, I think. Our superiors will decide whether or not to send in the troops – or the clowns, for that matter. I suspect the only thing we'll get to do is watch and wait for further orders.”
Chang nodded at this wisdom, as the waitress returned with a pitcher of beers. As Maico took a sip, she thought And it might be worth mentioning in the report that the first person to find wherever the Gernsback-2 US went might get a nice little treaty out of the deal. She suspected Chang might be thinking the same thing.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
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