Multiverse 2

by Chris Hechtl

  “Indeed.”

  ---<(+)>~~<(+)>---

  When they left the trial area Raymond ignored the mob of media reporters and camera men. The bewildered diplomat lady was trying to do something with the elephants, half the media was covering them. He didn't give a shit, he just wanted to get out of the area. To find a place, eat something and sleep for a week.

  Many of the group stopped to give a statement blasting the government for getting them into the predicament and not doing anything to prevent it but he was just too damn tired to care. His words had already been transmitted worldwide, he couldn't really add anything to them. They ignored the Feds wanting their take on it. Dom found a bus and they all climbed on board.

  “Who does this belong to?”

  “Who cares? Where too?” Dom asked as people milled about the front door to the vehicle. “You coming or what?”

  “I'm hungry!” A kid said.

  Raymond snorted. Trust the basics to kick in after such a thing. A few people were ready to have the shakes. Others were just in denial. He heard a couple talking about how they needed to change. It sounded like that kid's speech at the end of FernGully. He snorted.

  “So, where we going?” Dom asked as people climbed in.

  “A diner. One with a bathroom. I need to pee so bad my false teeth are about to float out of my head,” Ezra said peevishly. There was a bit of a chuckle from the group when he said that. Trust Ezra to say it as it was. “And then eat,” Ezra said. “My blood sugar is low,” he said patting his belly.

  “Pie!” A girl said, eyes lighting up with the idea. She started to grin. Will smiled.

  “Pie it is,” Raymond said with a smile. “I'll even buy. But someone else buys the first round. And I sure as hell ain't driving,” he said. That earned a chuckle from the group.

  When they were all settled in and eating on the house, they took turns going to the rest room. Their celebrity status apparently earned them a few perks including requests for autographs. Will was hit up twice but his new girlfriend latched onto his arm and glared at any competition that came his way. Will for his part hunched his shoulders and smiled, looking away when the girl growled.

  Raymond sat back, relaxing as they ate. He looked around the room and wondered if they were some sort of team. Were they going to go the whole distance?

  When they finished Ezra groaned. “So, do we train to swim or what?”

  “You ever see Deep Blue Sea? Dude, watch it. Then tell me you can survive going up against super smart sharks,” Will said.

  “True dat',” someone else said. Dom raised a one finger salute to the heavens. The waitress saw him do it, shook her head and left the area.

  “You know it,” Amy murmured.

  “So then what? You know damn well we're not going to change overnight,” Ezra said.

  “We're going to have to. And hopefully we won't be the ones picked to swim,” Raymond said with a grimace. There were a few near hysterical prayers he was right. He let them settle down. As they did he reluctantly realized that the aliens coming was what humanity had needed. “A swift kick in the ass. It's a unifying force.”

  “Yes, a threat we all have to face together.”

  “A wake-up call,” Dom said with a shake of his head.

  Raymond waved a dismissive hand. “We could get that by other means. An immediate challenge or threat. Biological, an asteroid… we've seen it all in the media. War doesn't just tear people apart, a conflict brings sides together. They bury differences in the face of a common enemy. This is more than that.”

  “I should hope so. We will resent them for decades but if we carry that it will be our undoing eventually,” Will said.

  “Exactly. “What we got was a good spanking,” he said as the others froze. Will snorted, Ezra sniffed in disdain. “No, it's true. We're new, and we've been making mistakes. We need to learn. We've gone in excess, don't deny it,” he said. A few people nodded. “We are children. Well, children need limits. It is how they learn. It is the guiding force in their lives, that and example. It is how they know they are cared for.”

  “You are not serious,” Will said, crossing his arms. His entire body language was etched with disgust and outright rebellion. He shook his head slowly no.

  A few others in the room looked thoughtful however. He nodded to Ezra who rubbed his chin with his fingertips. “I am. Hopefully we'll live long enough to pass that on to our children one day. And hopefully they will take such lessons to heart and won't hate us for the hard lessons.”

  ---<(+)>~~<(+)>---

  “You see?? They go back to life as usual. They haven't changed. They have already forgotten the lessons they have learned.”

  “Perhaps. And yet, perhaps not. This leader shows promise. He has kernels of wisdom, he has now earned the respect of those who watched the proceedings. Perhaps they will listen to him. Give them time. They have earned that. They are a fascinating species. Perhaps they will surprise us.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The End

  The Santa Brigade

  Charles Kringle was living the dream. He was about to turn sixty-five; Christmas day was his birthday. And he was about to do something few had ever thought possible—live the real life of Santa or at least the parts they could actually replicate.

  He owed it all to a rich but eccentric billionaire named Nicholas Claswiticki. The man had made his fortune inventing many things, and when he turned sixty he changed his name to Nicholas Claus. He had been tired of the cynicism that had crept into modern society. He and others like him had wanted to inject the real spirit of Santa Claus into the holidays, the spirit of giving. Twenty years ago he worked with a group of volunteers and created The Santa Brigade.

  Getting into the brigade had been tough. The screening had so many levels it had taken Charles nearly two years to get through the process. They'd run him through a gauntlet checking his history, looking into his interests, making certain he wasn't a sexual predator or pedophile, but also screening for dependence issues like drugs or alcohol. And contrary to Santa's old image, smoking was not allowed. They even did in-depth looks into his body to make certain it could stand up to a full evening of delivery.

  The one thing he did find out was that the process was fully voluntary and not limited by race or creed. Anyone could join, but it was a tough uphill battle to get in. When he'd gotten the acceptance letter, he'd been elated. Then he had to endure six rigorous months of classes and practical studies before they even let him put the suit on!

  He'd gone to Santa school and worked a few times as a mall Santa in anticipation of joining the brigade. But he'd never imagined everything he'd been asked to learn. There was something to be said about trying to teach an old dog new tricks. At least they had a lot of toys for him to use to help him along.

  But still, he'd had to learn how to deal with irate parents, dogs, cats, alarms, fires, medical emergencies, anything and everything they could throw at him. Even equipment failures.

  Along the way he'd learned a few tricks and learned that they were still testing him. A couple of his classmates had washed out; they hadn't been able to keep up with the load or had hidden psychological issues or they just couldn't handle the tech.

  He'd taken classes on maintenance, hygiene, and how to look the part. Everything from their hair, beard, and belly had to be perfect. Each Santa was slightly different and some specialized in certain traditional sets but he went for the mainstream version.

  The job was simple. A shuttle that was dressed to look like a reindeer and giant sleigh would carry a troop of Santas down from the North Pole space station over the arctic North Pole to a region. From the shuttle the Santas would use the equipment on the shuttle and built into their suits to teleport to the ground. They would use a wormhole generator disguised as Santa's gift bag to bring in gifts, then teleport out.

  The program had initially started with friends and employees of Claus industries. Some people had signed up people they had thought w
orthy of a visit. Some of them were people in need who couldn't afford the time due to circumstances out of their control.

  Nicholas Clause had done it himself at first and then expanded the program every year until it had been too much to handle on his own. His “Elves” had made and wrapped gifts and directed Santas. They still did, Charles observed, nodding to a few. Some of the elves were human. Others though were tiny AI robots in doll-like elf bodies and costumes.

  What he loved was that they were being outfitted with the latest technology. His red and white suit had gear for the teleporter built in as well as a back brace for lifting, knee and elbow pads, sturdy black boots, snow white gloves, and electronics everywhere. Each suit also had some protection against fire and dogs but not much.

  He had been a little disappointed in some of the setups once he'd been briefed. He'd expected flying robotic reindeer deployed from orbit. A sleigh that was more like an aircraft with a bay filled with Santas.

  Instead, it was a giant shuttlecraft with a hologram that made it look like a giant sleigh and reindeer. But most of the time they were so high up and people were sleeping so the hologram system was off he'd been told. That had been a disappointment.

  Each Santa was to be dropped off by short range teleporter, then picked up by the same device. It was Claus's invention, one he refused to share with anyone. The same went for his wormhole in a bag. Within their toy bag was a ring. The ring could expand up to over two meters in width. Once it was set up, they would get orders from HQ on what to do, reach in, grab the package to hand it off or place it under the tree or in the stockings or elsewhere. He came to realize that the Santas were only the tip of a well-oiled machine. Without the rest quietly working in support behind the scenes, he would never get a chance to perform his work. He was grateful for that, for their selfless dedication to the cause.

  He suited up in the locker room and listened to the chatter of the other Santas. The space station rang with Christmas music, setting the mood. The massive complex with its orbital warehouses were ready for business.

  ~~~*~~~

  They loaded up on the shuttles in small groups. Elves went around making certain each Santa was on the right flight. Charles was going to be chaperoned for his first night by an old hand named Nick. Nick was a proper Santa; Charles was a bit envious over how he'd achieved the look. “Decades of living the dream,” Nick said, answering the unasked question. “Any questions?”

  “Some, but I had a lot answered in the training. Now I'm just nervous.”

  “If you've got to barf, do it in a bag in the latrine,” Cedric the load master elf said coming over to them. Charles looked at him. The guy was in a baggy flight suit, but it was done up to look a bit like an elf with red and white stripes on the arms and legs. He had an elf hat on instead of a Santa hat.

  Charles nodded to indicate he understood. “I hope not, but thanks,” he said softly.

  Cedric eyed him for a long moment then nodded back. “You might. You peed before you boarded right?”

  “Both,” Charles replied.

  “It's all good. Teleporting can get to even the best of us. Right, Nick?” Cedric asked, obviously teasing the older gentleman.

  “That my friend was a nasty peppercorn concoction mixed with too much milk and cookies,” Nick replied, patting his ample tummy.

  “Sure it was,” Cedric replied with a slight smile. “Buckle in gents; it's going to be turbulent during reentry. We'll be over our assigned drop zone in twenty,” he stated.

  Charles nodded. He followed Nick's lead as the older man plugged the sack in to top off its charge and then took a seat and buckled in. The interior of the shuttle was utilitarian but had many small ornate touches. The seatbelts, for instance, looked like hand carved, braided leather. The buckles had been made to look like reindeer locking horns. Charles loved the small touches.

  “This is an older bird,” Nick said, turning his head to him. “Make sure you plug your bag in as often as you can remember. You won't get a chance during rapid drops, but they try to space us out now to give the system a chance to reboot.”

  “Okay,” Charles replied with a nod.

  “Wiggle it when you plug it in. Make sure the LED changes from red to yellow. When it's green it means you are good to go,” Nick said, tapping the LED by the power outlet. Charles dutifully checked his outlet. It was lit yellow. He frowned thoughtfully. Just before he could say something, it turned to green.

  “Good. The batteries in the gates sometimes run down differently. The older ones probably need to be recycled soon,” Nick observed.

  “Two minutes to takeoff. Places everyone,” Cedric said as the shuttle's airlock closed. He cycled the locking bar shut then went to make certain each Santa was buckled in. He ran them through a rapid emergency lecture, then took his own seat and buckled in as the shuttle started to move.

  “And off we go!” Nick caroled with an ear-to-ear grin.

  ~~~*~~~

  The reentry was as rough as predicted but thankfully short. They did a series of S turns in the air to bleed off their excess speed before the jet engines kicked in.

  Nick did his best to entertain Charles to distract him. He didn't want to have the guy barf and then stink his suit up for the rest of the evening.

  “We're trying to put the magic back. Remember when you were a kid and it was there? That magic? That mystery? Staring up at the sky? The smiles? The generosity of spirit? We want that. We want to treasure that, and we want each generation to do so as well.” Nick frowned. “Call this … social engineering on a macro scale.”

  “Oh.” Charles blinked. “So the boss, and by extension us, we're trying to change the world. One child at a time though? You know they'll see through it. The older they get ….”

  Nick nodded. “True to some degree. Oh, they know on some level, I know that. I know we're fooling ourselves. But it is fun!” He chuckled. “And it feels so good to see the light in a child's eyes, the delight, and the smiles. The smiles of the parents who aren't tired or worried that they got it right or wrong.”

  “We can't be right all the time. Statistically …”

  “I know, I know. But we can give it our best shot. We've got programs and AI mining the target's social media, plus of course their wish list. And our genetic algorithms can put things together to get the mystery gifts. Stuff they didn't except.”

  “But doesn't that open us up to well, failure? What if they already have it? Or don't want it?”

  “That is a problem. We've run into ten incidents of that so far. We've corrected each within hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “We're trying to pull the commercialism out. The cynicism. The expectation of what they want is what they'll get,” Nick smiled.

  “What about other faiths?”

  “This isn't about religion,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Oh no, definitely not. We'll come on Christmas, the Yule, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Eid al-Fitr, Saint Nicholas day, or any other time the parents specify. We do this once per year per child. And yes, the Santa will dress in the appropriate costume for each period and delivery at the parent's request.”

  Charles nodded. He'd read that in the handbook. “We've got all the bases covered.”

  “Not quite but we're trying to. Every year we find ways to improve.”

  “Ah. So you've been in the program for a while?”

  “Since it started,” Nick said with a wink to Cedric.

  “You two get the first stop,” Cedric said, bowing slightly to Nick. He looked at the tablet in his hand.

  “Hang on, Charles, the teleport can get a bit rough. Don't move. Remember your training. I'm going in first, then the system has to reset. It takes about a minute unless someone else is coming and going. If they are it could be longer.”

  “So keep a look out for dogs or problems on the other side?”

  “Exactly. HQ tries to keep us up-to-date on that. The parents are supposed to lock the animals up, but it can get tricky. And if the
y start barking, we'll have to hustle.”

  “Understood.”

  “Talk in a soft voice, not a whisper. And try to limit conversation, you know the tradition.”

  “Roger that,” Charles said with a nod.

  Cedric pointed to Nick and then to the jump light. Nick nodded. The jump light turned from yellow to green. He put his finger to the side of his nose and was gone in a puff of air. After an anxious sixty seconds, it was Charles's turn. He put his finger to the side of his nose and felt the teleport kick in.

  ~~~*~~~

  The teleport dropped him in an open area near the stairs. His knees bent to absorb the landing. He'd practiced such things before; you never wanted to cut a teleport too close to the ground. Bad things could happen then.

  He felt a bit queasy from the jump but was okay. He looked to Nick, but the other man was already at work under the tree.

  Since it was their first stop, Charles was put on stockings while Nick handled the presents under the tree. He didn't resent it. There was enough to do, and he figured the older man earned the right. He checked the names on the stockings carefully then keyed them into the computer. The computer highlighted the first name and then blinked the icon indicating his sack.

  He turned and opened the sack. Inside, the wormhole gate was small, just large enough for him to reach through and take the first items that were fed to him. He slipped the candy and small toys into Marlena's stocking and then moved on. When he got to Butch and pulled out a dog bone, he snorted.

  “Almost finished?” Nick asked. Charles turned to see the tree had been decked out with more small gifts while larger ones were piling up underneath.

  “Just about,” Charles said as he finished the last. “I'm done here. I'll take care of the milk and cookies,” he said, slinging the sack over his shoulder.

  “Don't eat that,” Nick warned when Charles picked a cookie up.

  “Why?”

  “Trust me. And keep your voice down. That's soy milk.”