I am not supposed to remember any of this. Signs posted everywhere around The Interim tell me it is not possible. Yet, every conversation, every debriefing, every moment I spent in labs, classes, or hanging out in the Great Hall waiting for my number to come up has stayed with me after I was awakened for this next assignment. If anyone finds out, decommissioning with prejudice is what I will expect.
An expanding Universe needs to be watched over and tweaked as necessary. Delivered to the job sites via high outbursts of pure energy, M-Tees are the tools Controllers use to keep the Expansions dynamic and healthy. Because cross pollination could mean disaster, M-Tees are sent with no memories of previous assignments. We are provided physical substance (Existence Frames) through the biology of the local DNA pools. Only Controllers and the Board are aware of what we will be doing while they manipulate the various corporeal Realities.
Without M-Tees to offset the rigid unbending rules set down by the Predictability Guild, another Universe 14K might happen. The rumor floating around The Interim the last time I was there was Universe 14K was still out of control. It had gone Ballistic. Future deployments had been put on hold or were going to be. There was talk Terminal measures might be instituted. That’s what the Prep-Tech hooking me up for this trip told me. And even though Prep-Techs were only marginally smarter than a box of nano seconds, I figure there had to be some truth to it if the story had gotten this far down the food chain.
What I do know that I am not supposed to know is - I am here, I am fully aware of where I came from and what the broad goals of our mission are. I even know which Controller I am working under. I worked with her a few assignments ago. Hard as nails and unforgiving. This trip was going to be no cake walk. I am already looking forward to being re-called.
No M-Tee, no matter their status, has a set time to serve. It is totally random. If every M-Tee stayed the same length of time, Chaos would not be able to function at the level necessary to keep those flounders over to Predictability at bay. There was no worse enemy to a successful Universe than Predictability. Let Predictability get more than one foot in the door of a Universe and before you can say Big Bang, another cookie cutter cosmos lines up neatly in the astral suburbs. You’d think they would be get bored with perfection. Perfect Universes never last. Eventually they all self destruct prematurely.
It seems I am about to meet my Controller. I know it is her. Her frequency hum is one I will never forget. Again I am puzzled. This is more information that should not be mine to have. The white clad native who is carrying me, hands me over to her. My Controller smiles as she takes me.
Because I have not developed enough within the confines of this Existence Frame to process the local dialect, Controller’s words are unintelligible to me. But the message in those words is not. It comes through loud and clear through her eyes and the uptick in the Antag frequency of her signature wave length.
“I know you know because I made it so.”
I open the communication device my current Existence Frame has in order to reply. Nothing but a god awful screeching emits. Damn! This no wiggle room rule about following the natural order of things is cramping my style.
To fit in I must not be cognizant, mentally or physically upon initial deployment. A slow purposeful evolution in my development is necessary to dovetail cleanly with The Plan. Or so I am told just prior to each deployment. Unfortunately I am mentally aware but nothing physical seems to be working properly or is of a size to be useful in the first place.
The white clad native who just handed me over opens her communication device, “Oh look at the little rascal. Waving his arms, kicking his feet, and what a set of lungs he has.”
Still smiling, my controller looks at me with hard eyes. The native attending us continues, “Mom, you must be tired. 10 hours of labor is no walk in the park. I’ll leave you two now to get acquainted.”
The white clad native leaves me to the unknown whims and desires of my hard nosed Controller. Once we are alone, my Controller brings me face to face with what I assume is a direct link to her wavelength. Hmm. It appears there are two links, but she has chosen the left one. Okay.
As soon as I latch onto the external plug, information flows immediately. “Listen up asshole. I will go through this one time and one time only. Burp once if you understand, twice if you don’t.”
I burp once. An odd sensation of pleasure rushes through me.
“Okay then. Let’s get to it..........I noticed your hard work on our last assignment together. You showed me you had what it takes to make it to the next level. When we were done on Delpha Fuego Six, I petitioned the Board to have you raised to Con Apprentice. You do as you are told by following orders and your next assignment might just be as a Controller. ….. With me so far? Burp once for yes or twice for no. “
I comply with another satisfying expulsion of gas. Only this time it comes from an area of my Existence Frame I cannot see. My Controller’s face twists and contorts as if she is in pain. “Okay, quit clowning around Jerk Off and acting like you are an unaware M-Tee. My current Existence Frame does not appreciate that type of communication. When I say burp, I mean burp.” I burp once.
Suddenly she disconnects me from the link. She shifts her covering and exposes the other link and plugs me in. Another rush of information flows. “You already know our plans for this mission. Just some more random existence to help fill in the details for the Expansion. However, you do not know what my plan is. I have a little side project I want us both to work on. It is not sanctioned by the board,……..Call it a self designed volunteer enhancement of the plan for this existence. A small detour if you will. Understand?“
I understood alright. She was going Rogue. I had heard of this happening from time to time, but had never been in existence when it did. And suddenly I knew what to do.
Apparently I was unaware of some top secret directives implanted prior to being jettisoned into this existence. Directives meant for me and me alone. The internal memo opened and in seconds I knew I would have to destroy her. And because the honchos who lead these Rogue investigations were never sure who was involved in Rogue plots, I would have to destroy all of her inner circle as well.
Shit. This was going to be a short deployment. 14 years local time was my time frame. At the end of this time, I was tasked with instituting the termination sequence and then pulling my own plug by means of some locally acceptable self destruction technique.
The directive also called for permanent termination of the Controller. Jeez, she must have really pissed off the wrong Board Honch.
Until then I was to burp when told to.
Image used - "Reincarnation" by Greg Known