Will Work For Magic Cards

and also:

What we have to do is fucking GROW UP. 

There’s not one single thing in the world (outside of the choice of what’s for dinner) that gives “us” 100% of what we want 100% of the time. This is especially true for politics. 

Do you know what Biden is? 

An acceptable (note: not perfect. not necessarily desirable.) compromise candidate who can pull the largest number of people behind him. 

Do you know what Biden is? A candidate who can carry the Midwest and Rust Belt states, the flyover states that went to Trump and guaranteed his victory. 

He’s a candidate with experience. He’s a candidate who has been in the trenches for decades, has seen social challenges and changes, who has been wrong in the past (but right for the time he was in, wrong when viewed with today’s lens) and has apologized for the “mistakes” he has made. 

He’s lost his son and grieved deeply. 

If it’s Pete Buttigieg, I will vote for him. Do I want him to be the candidate? No! Is he better than Trump? Yes!

If it’s Beto Freaking O’Rourke, I will vote for him. Do I want him to be the candidate? No! Is he better than Trump? Yes!

We are not doing this again.

Lobby hard for your choice in the primaries, but do not insult the other options. 

I like Warren a lot more than Sanders. I like Klobuchar and Harris better than either of them. Right now, Gillibrand is my top choice. 

BUT I WANT TO BE ABLE TO VOTE FOR THE DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE IN NOVEMBER, whoever that turns out to be.

And since I want to be able to get behind them, I want to know what their good points are. I want to know what I can expect them to do, and - this important - what issues aren’t on their top priority list, so I can let them know what matters to me. 

All of them are smart, decent people. All of them want a better country, a better world. All of them would, on their worst day, be better than Trump at his best, assuming he has something a sane person could call “best.” 

No infighting this time. No circular firing squads. Do not insult, denigrate, discourage, or bully people who are supporting the candidates you dislike. WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER FOR THIS.

Before the primaries, figure out who is the best representative for your interests, and promote the hell out of them. Encourage people to vote. Get people registered. Tell everyone why you like this one better than that one - based on policies and history, not “he’s a lying scumbag” or “she caters to corporate greed.” 

None of them is perfect. ALL OF THEM ARE BETTER THAN WHAT WE HAVE - do not help the Republicans (and the Russians!) suppress progressive voters by badmouthing other people’s choices.

I don’t want Sanders. I think he’s too old (and so is Warren) and we need people whose understanding of business and social dynamics are based on recent trends. I think Sanders is too caught up in social class as the only real axis of oppression; I don’t think he understands intersectionality. I worry that he favors gun rights more than is safe.

I’m not voting for him in the primaries. But if he gets the nomination, HE HAS MY VOTE IN NOVEMBER. And not in a “ugh, holding my nose and voting against Trump” way - he wants medical care for everyone; he wants college to be available to all; he wants strong unions and worker support. I can get behind those policy plans.

No litmus tests this time. No single issue that convinces people to stay home in November 2020. Pick one you like, or pick a few that you’re deciding between - but don’t convince yourself that any of them are evil incarnate and must be stopped at all costs.

First—-Previous—-Next

Chapter Three: Redux

Time doesn’t care how many times you visit a moment any more than the sky care how many times a bird flies through the same space. Were the bird to collide with itself only it would get hurt, the sky wouldn’t even notice.

Worry not of paradoxes. Worry for your health. People much smarter than Colin, Alex or Lucille, had calculated one can cross their own timeline once every one hundred and thirty-two years without major consequences.

“This soon?!” Alex shouted, “We just left home, if we cross now—“

“We could go back further! evacuate everyone, set up holograms without our past selves knowing they could already be safe.” Colin grasped at possibilities.

“That would be a brilliant plan if we had time, but we don’t. By the time we’d set all that up we’d have created so many ripples we’d end up impacting out own timelines anyway!”  Possibilities were in short supply standing in this wreckage

“I know! But you can’t possibly think it would be better to let this have happened.”  Colin said, gesturing to the Library’s present state.

“I don’t but… if we do this now…” Alex knew the answer. She’d known the whole time.

Colin quoted an old friend. “‘Treat every adventure like it’s your last, make every adventure worth it if is’”

“But this is our first! There has to be another way.”

“Alex, we’re standing in the burning wreckage of Alexandria, we don’t have time to go back further and solve why someone would have done this we have to go back, we say him, we know who and where and—“

“I know. “

“We’ll do it. But we need a door.”

They looked around. There was no getting to a door without passing through fire and crumbling wreckage.

“Can you make one?”

“A psionically generated door? Under these conditions? No. No, I don’t think I can.” Colin pursed his lips, sighed, and pointed west. “ If we head that way I think we can make it to the front entrance, maybe enough structure is left to hijack it.”

“Okay” Alex nodded “Just stay low and go quick. I left the fire extinguisher in my jacket pocket.” She said, hiking up the side of her dress to check her jean pockets.

Colin raised an eyebrow “you were wearing that underneath?”

“Well I’m not going anywhere without any pockets, that’s for sure. Now come on.”

They headed out into the flames.

Meanwhile and ten minutes ago, a plain man in a plain suit entered the Library. He passed through the security scanner as calmly as one could while smuggling the finishing pieces of a bomb.

Titus Welborn has visited the Library every day for the past week, each time wearing a different disguise and carrying a different component. Now, it was time.

Now, it was time to set this place ablaze, he thought as he made his way to the maintenance closet, where he had hidden the catalyst.

Now, it was time to demolish this prison of knowledge he mused as he prayed the accelerant from it’s hiding place in the Lost and Found.

“Now, it was time to free me…” the voice in his head said as he hid in the crowd too busy to see him placing the final wires beneath his coat.

Now it was time to— get punched in the face, apparently. Titus was dazed and unable to stop the detonator from being snatched away from him by a woman in a slightly singed azure dress

“H—how?” Titus wheezed.

“How? How the hell could you destroy this place you bastard?!”

Titus’s mind swirled “No the plan was foolproof…. This is a test! it has to be a test.”

“Foolproof?! you were standing in the middle of—“ the woman’s partner cut her off

“Test? Who would be testing you?”

Before Titus could answer, two more strangers approached him. Two strangers identical to the two that had foiled his sacrifice.

“Oh no, already?” the slightly less toasted version of the woman asked

“‘Afraid so. Bastard blew up the library.”

“Dammit. well then…” the less burnt duo held out their hands, their doppelgängers returned favor and shook.

And then— well there has only ever been one pair? Right? How could they have— Oh, his head. Only one force had ever made him feel like this. This must be a test!

“You’re toying with me, surely you’re testing me. You must be It’s messengers. The God under the Library”

Both strangers ears perked up at this. “Let’s say we were messengers of your god. What would we be testing?” the man said.

“My resolve, surely my resolve to free you!” Titus smiled.

“Do you think perhaps there is a better way to free your god than blowing their…prison up?” the woman asked.

“I don’t understand.”

The strangers looked at each other, then the woman spoke “Do you know what. I think we’re heading under the library ourselves. Don’t blow anything up and you can come along. Let’s go see this god.”

Titus was shaking with excitement “You will grant me passage past the security?”

The woman followed Titus’ gaze to the far corner of the central hall, a door, reinforced with an unreasonable number of locks. “Yes. Yes, I think we can help with that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First—-Previous—-Next

Interlude Two: Revision

Being a Revised Account of the Events of

23 November 1991 London, England

Earth 42.13/Apple Sigma-3

Ms. Grot’s voice came like seething wind. “Now what could you possibly be doing hiding in the hallway like this”

A far kinder voice: “Now, now. Let’s not jump to any conclusions, eh?“ Standing in the hall is hardly a crime” Not this time. Not this time. Not this time.

The two children spun around. Ms. Grot and Lucille were right behind them.

Ms. Grot’s eyes narrowed as though she were trying to block the other woman from her peripheral vision “Aye, but loitering is a fineable offense…”

The old woman tilted her head as though she had heard a peculiar noise.

Oh, so that’s the plan I had to go with. Shit.

Where the others only heard the uncomfortable silence that preludes the announcement of a punishment. “ I have something I must attend to. Ms…” she snarled.

“Just Lucille”

“Well, ‘Just Lucille,’ why don’t you escort these children back to to the common room?” she looked pained by the prospect of leaving her charges alone with someone who seemed so… well-meaning, but whatever had her attention looked like it might pain her more.

Before Lucille could respond, Ms. Grot had already made a beeline for her office at the end of the hall.

Once the door had shut behind her and Lucile felt certain she was out of earshot, she kneeled down to the children and said “dreadful woman isn’t she?”

The two children, not as certain Ms. Grot wouldn’t hear, simply nodded vigorously.

Lucille tilted her head toward the common room “ Come on, best to keep our distance.”

In the common room, the other children played or read quietly fearful of Ms. Grot’s return and untrusting of the new arrival. Okay, not get them out, get them all out before anything catches fire.

Lucille looked over the twenty or so children, she pressed her tongue to her cheek in thought, then turned to Alex and Colin “Are you two the newest here.”

“I am,” Colin said

Alex shook her head. “Been here two years.”

“And no one’s been adopted at that time?” Lucille’s stance was confident, even stoic, but her face looked as though she was searching the floor for a missing puzzle piece.

“None.” Alex nodded.

Yes. That’s what I thought.

“That must be very disheartening.” Lucille turned to face Alex “Most of these children, they seem…resigned to that. But you two…” That’s why I didn’t see them before. “Optimism. Resilience. Rebellion. Intelligence.  A strong shield.”

“Shield?” Alex asked

Lucille led the two just back out of the common room where they wouldn’t be heard. “Would you two agree if said Ms. Grot was a monster?”

“Absolutely.” Alex barely waited for Lucille to complete the question.

“Seems like.” Colin agreed.

Not only are they here, they can help. Lucille leaned in close and whispered: “She is.”

“She is what?” Colin asked.

“A monster. Literally. Do you two know what a psychic parasite is?”

“i know the two words separately,” Alex said

“Yeah but…put them together and—“ Colin continued the thought.

“I have one more question for you two do you want to save them, the other children.”

the yes was implicit, the “How?” was the only question that needed to be said aloud.

Lucille produced a spyglass from one of her coat pockets and handed it to the children “Look.”

Through the spyglass it was immediately clear the other orphans were surrounded by a mess of glittering strings, wrapping them like flies in a–

“It’s a psychic web.” Lucille explained, “The threads all tie back to Ms. Grot, carrying the residue of agony back to her.”

The two kids passed the glass back and forth. Colin’s brow furrowed. “But.. look at you! You haven’t got nearly as many threads as everyone.”

Alex turned the glass around “Neither have you!”

“Like I said,” Lucille gestured for the spyglass to be handed back to her “ a psychic shield. Hope” Explains why she hates you. Explain why she locked you away.

“What is she?” Colin asked

“A Devrosian Mite.” Lucile said “ Native to the Lowland glens of a world far from here.”

“Another planet?” Alex asked

“Further. They hatch and drift until they find a place they can feed. They take a localized form and wait for natives to fall into their web.”

“Now,” she continued “I have a plan to save all of you, but you have to act quick. I need you to get all the kids out of here starting now” She hit a button on her watch.

It was easier with three people in the know. Some children were reluctant, some fearful. The web held them tightly. Here was where Lucille knew why she was going to have went with the plan she did.

Time travel tenses are difficult. Timing is easy. She needed to know how much time. As it turned out, With Colin and Alex’s help, corralling all the children took only eight minutes.

Brilliant I can stall for eight minutes.

She stood outside the orphanage with a total of twenty-four children, all twelve boys, and all twelve girls, all accounted for. Now comes the tricky bit.

The orphanage was warping, fading, disappearing shriveling like a like a burning photograph. The wails of a Devrosian Mite fading with it.

When all else was gone, the air was still, then, from where a window had once been—

There she was. Another Lucille. The woman who had already stalled for eight minutes. She walked towards this Lucille from the rapidly… disappearing building. In contrast to the destruction, she seemed almost serene as she approached the Lucille the children had been accompanying.

She failed, she went back, she succeeded. But for her to have succeeded…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First —–Previous —– Next

Chapter Two: Convergent Moment

Despite its relatively modest stature, The Library towered above them. An aging wonder. Slowly repairs, expansions, and renovations left the building a Ship of Theseus.

The pair ascended the freshly swept steps to the Library’s entrance.

A guard blocked their path. The man was remarkably well armored, a thick, flexible charcoal armor that still wore it’s Hellenic roots in it’s layering. He held a long, thin rod like a headless spear.

“No entry.” He said.

“Oh, ah, yes, well then if you could—“ Colin stuttered.

The guard took the pair’s less-than-immediate departure as an opportunity to display his weapons ability to produce a sparking red spearhead.

“Oh very nice” Alex nodded “Look, this might seem like an odd question but… why is it closed.”

the guard paused for a moment, looking between the strangers. “Preparation for the Gala tonight.”

“Oh,” colin eyed the spear “I don’t suppose you believe we were here to help…decorate?”

“I would not believe that. No.”

“I see.” Colin took Alex by the shoulder and motioned to give the guard some distance. They headed down the stairs and back onto the streets of Third Alexandria “Well, then, it seems we’re attending a Gala.”

~~~

They could have just went through the door, but that would have been impolite; better to just wait and sneak into the gala without an invitation.

Their entrance was a door near the back of the Library’s foyer. The space was full of patrons in quite spectacular garb.

An often underestimated tool for blending in while visiting another reality is that in most cases, the local populace would be willing to believe most anything before accepting the slightly odd individual is from another universe.

There are, however, several circumstances where this is known to fail: Circumstance one: the local sentient population does not include the visitor’s species. Circumstance two: the crowd in which one finds themselves is extremely judgmental.

The sort of people who attend galas tend to be very, very judgmental. For this reason, Colin and Alex had elected to procure local formalwear.

Colin exchanged his coat and impossibly colorful shirt for an incredibly monochrome suit with asymmetrical buttons. Alex would have preferred something similar, but without knowing how lax Third Alexandria was about gender roles, was stuck with a narrow grey and blue dress of modest though flattering cut.

Stairs led up to several balconies where more displays were flanked by refreshment tables. Glass cases holding millennia of artifacts stood as islands in the seas of elites. The party crashers pushed through to get a better look. How much of this pottery and jewelry had destroyed doppelgängers back on their earth? How much was the result of the differences in the two world’s histories?

Alex had already found herself so lost in a displayed manuscript that she barely noticed herself lift a sandwich from a passing plate anymore that the plate’s owner.

Colin had found a collection of paintings which seemed to show the stylistic evolution of some distant region over the span of several hundred years.

Art and culture were on full display, even if that display was behind glass. But it did not take long for Alex and Colin to wonder where the fruits of the Library’s famous research institute were.

In a fair world, they would have pursued this line of inquiry, discovered several fascinating secrets and had a relatively safe adventure. Alex and Colin had not visited a fair world.

Alex saw it first: A man across the room. Like she and Colin, he was out of place, overlooked. He had a bag with him. Small, lumpy. The way he held it, the look on his face…

Colin noticed right as it clicked for Alex. Immediately he felt Alex grab his shoulder.

“Door. Now.” She had run the numbers. They couldn’t reach him in time, Not at this distance and with this crowd. Shouting, trying to get someone else to stop him? No, no reason they’d trust her. No time. no time

There was restroom door about two meters away, Colin didn’t have time to ask questions, nor did he have to. They reached the door just milliseconds before the explosion.

The door opened into fire.

With no time to plot a course, they had simply skipped forward several minutes. The library was no more. The door they had exited only there in spirit.

This unfair world ablaze. Why? Why? Why would that man have done this?

“We have to stop him.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

They had been away from home for less than a day. Surrounded by flames, they knew they could stop it, they could go back but…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previous Chapter —– Next Chapter Interlude: Iteration

Being an account of the events of

23 November 1991 London, England

Earth 42.13/Apple-Sigma 3

A little girl woke to the sound of pain. A chorus of thuds and sobs. Downstairs, the boys’ rooms. The girl got out of bed and crept by the others toward the hallway.

She looked both ways, no sign of Ms. Grot, then with remarkable speed and stealth for a seven-year-old, she darted for the stairs, glid down them and swung into the room the sobs were coming from.

“Oi!” she half-yelled.

Two boys had been beating a third, the bullies paused and looked

“Hey, no girls allowed!” one said back.

“No beating other kids allowed either!” She hissed.

“No one will want him anyway, he’s a foreigner,” the other bully said

“I am not!” the beaten boy said, “ I was born in Leeds!”

“Then why you look so… oriental” one bully snipped

“Ya can’t say that!” the other gave his friend a rap on the head “ It’s not civil!”

The girl stepped back in “Oh? but hitting him is?”

“Yeah” both bullies nodded.

“then you won’t mind this.” the girl punched one bully in the face, then the other. They both weezed.

The girl turned to the victim “Right then, get up.” the boy staggered to his feet. “Now, I can hit harder than that. So how bout you don’t pick on uh,-“

“Colin”

“Nice to meet you, Colin, I’m Alex. Right, so don’t pick on Colin anymore”

“Alex?” one bully said, “Aint that a boy’s name?”

“Regardless of the name’s gender.” a creaking, ghastly voice spoke from behind the children “A girl oughtn’t to be in the boy’s dormitories” Ms. Grot. How had the children not heard her come in?

“Well,” Alex stared down Ms. Grot, knowing full well it was about to be her turn to get hit “It’s not like you were going to do anything this.” she gestured to the three boys.

Slap. Ms. Grot’s hand left a red mark on Alex’s face

Another boy sat up on his bed “What was that?”

“Go back to bed.” Ms. Grot’s eyes seemed to flare with frustration. Midnight and at least five children awake? Oh there will be consequences for this.  “all of you.”

Ms. Grot dragged Alex from the room and threw her at the stairs.Alex gave a nasty look back but trudged up the stairs and back to bed.

Morning.

The children of the orphanage had finished their paltry breakfast. Colin slinked off to the library, and Alex followed

“You’re new, yeah?” Alex said as she sat down next to Colin, already engulfed in a book.

Colin nodded.

“Well, I wish I could say it gets better, but this place is dreadful.”

“Thank you for last night.”

“ ’s okay. I hate bullies. you’re not a bully are you?”

“No, no never.”

“Good”

Shadow passed by the library window, a tall one. Alex peered out into the courtyard. “Never seen them before.”

Colin placed his book down and joined Alex at the window. An adult was standing at the front door. A woman with dark skin, short hair, and a long charcoal jacket.

She wrapped on the door once, twice.

“Could she be here to adopt?” Colin asked

Alex shook her head “Whole time I’ve been here I’ve never seen any grown-up come to adopt. C’mon let’s eavesdrop”

“Eavesdrop?”

“It means listen secretly.”

“I know what it means but…should we?”

They should, they could, and they did.

Ms. Grot answered the door. “Can I help you?”

The stranger smiled “I believe you can. my name is Lucille, I believe we spoke on the phone I’m a writer and doing research on London’s Orphanages for my next book.”

“I’m afraid I don’t recall speaking to any such person on the phone.”

“Well, I spoke with someone” Lucielle furrowed her brow “Is there someone else here?”

“Just me.”

“Just you? With how many children? Oh, that can’t be legal.”

Ms. Grot narrowed her eyes “I mean no one is here right now. my colleague is out shopping for dinner.”

The two women seemed to be in a contest with each other over who could glare at the other the most intensely while maintaining a facade of politeness.

“Well then,” Lucille smiled “perhaps you could use an extra hand.” she pulled a card from her wallet “ I am licensed of course.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’m certain my colleague will be back any moment now.”

“Lovely, I’ll wait, and they can confirm I did, in fact, make an appointment.”

Several moments of silence passed.

“Ugh, come inside. Be sure to wipe your feet.”

The two children slipped around a corner so as not to be seen as their monstrous caretaker led the strange woman to the foyer.

Something seemed…odd about Lucille. The children couldn’t quite put their fingers on it, nor was it a strong enough feeling that they would think to try. Was it how her coat seemed to every so slightly billow even in the absence of wind? How the light shone off her jewelry at less than ordinary angles?

No matter, whatever implacable otherness the woman extruded, it was overshadowed by the placable otherness of Ms. Grot. More than ever the old woman’s movements evoked a disgust of her surrounding,  like just being here was a rotten meal, and now someone had come to her tables and asked her how her meal is. she was grinning and baring it and saying complaints to the chef, but this woman, this intruder seemed to have shaken that facade

“I think Ms. Grot’s scared of her” Alex whispered once the two women had passed.

“Maybe she’s with the government, maybe Ms. Grot is afraid she’ll see how she’s been treating us and lock her away,” Colin said.

“That’d be too good to be true.” Alex slumped.

“You’re not very optimistic are you.”

“I’d love to be optimistic, but I’ve been here too long. how are you so optimistic, didn’t your parents just die?”

Colin inhaled and looked at his feet “ it was actually pretty long ago.”

“Then why—“

Ms. Grot’s voice came like seething wind “Now, what could you possibly be doing hiding in the hallway like this.”

A far kinder voice:“now-now, let’s not jump to any conclusions, eh? standing in the hall is hardly a crime.”

The two children spun around. Ms. Grot and Lucille were right behind them.

Ms. Grot’s eyes narrowed as though she were trying to block the other woman from her peripheral vision. “Aye, but loitering is a fineable offense.”

The old woman grabbed Colin and Alex by an ear each  “I’ll be just a moment.” She told Lucille before leading the children down the stairs to the utility room.

Alex looked around “really? locking us in here for being in the hall?”

“No.” Ms. Grot grinned.  “Locking you in here,” she shoved them into a broom cupboard. “ I don’t trust you two stay quiet ‘round strangers. Especially not that one. So you’re going to have a little time out until that interloper is gone.

The children couldn’t see anything it was dark, cramped, and damp in their tiny prison within a prison.

Time passed. Then more time passed. They could hear something. Violence and shouting. That woman, Lucille; it sounded as though she was pleading and shouting for the kids to get out. What had happened? Why did they need to get out? How could they get out? What was that unearthly wailing?

Now it was getting warmer. The children were beginning to get a sense of why Lucille was urging them to flee.

“Help!” Colin shouted, but the unearthly wails and the rising sound of crackling flames drowned it out.

“Hello?!” Alex called out. Still, the children voices were nothing to the other noises. She began to kick at the door. she turned to Colin “well come on then, help me.”  Colin gulped and looked at the girl who seemed, bafflingly, to want to be his friend. Well, if the alternative is dying in a fire…

Colin began pounding on the door. Between the two children, the door began to budge. Through the crack, they could see the lock, but it was well above their heads.

“Lift me up, I think I can pick it!” Alex said

“What? From the inside? Besides you’re wearing a dress. It’s not decent” Colin stammered, switching his gaze back and forth between the lock and Alex.

“Dying in a fire isn’t decent either. Now help me up!” Alex shouted. Colin shrugged and did as he was told. “wearing a dress.” Alex grumbled, “I swear if I make it out of here I’m never wearing a bloody dress again.” She pulled her hair clip off and bent the clasp with impressive dexterity.

Colin couldn’t see quite what Alex had done, but after a few tries, the door swung the rest of the way open. Brutalized lock laying on the floor.

The wailing was getting more urgent, more frail. They could now hear Lucille “Children? Children?! Alex?! Colin! Please! The others are safe where ever you are, please come out!”

“We’re down here!” Colin shouted as the children made their way to the stairs out of the basement.

The fire was everywhere. Avoiding it was near impossible. The children were already afflicted with several small burns by the time they made it to the steps and up to the main level. Lucille was near, searching for them. Behind her was some sort of dying beast. The source of the wailing.

Lucille ran toward the children she was so close. She was going to save them.

And then, the rafter fell.

Alex pushed Colin out of the way and into Lucille’s arms. “ALEX!” Colin screamed and kept screaming. More than making up for Lucille’s shocked silence. This can’t be happening she thought as she rushed Colin outside. How had everything gone so wrong? The fire was one thing but a child—

This can’t be happening. Even if it killed her, Lucille would make sure none of this ever happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~