"I have to fix this, for everybody at SITE, fuck, for the entire world! Because, if I don't? We're all fucked."
Clouded Judgement
It began, as most of Heather Garrison's mistakes do, with a single decision; one where, at the time, it seemed there were only upsides.
In a sea of monotony, one tends to crave variety; especially while getting SITE off the ground, Heather found herself overwhelmed by the same, dull, brainless tasks — funny, isn't it? To think you could go from saving the world from conceptual oblivion to resubmitting the same form hundreds of times — if she had known beforehand, she would have let somebody else take charge.
No I wouldn't, Heather realized, catching herself. Fat chance anybody else would have lived up to my expectations.
It was inevitable. This was a cost that, unfortunately, was worthwhile. There was, however, one downside that stood above all else.
It had been a long five months since the days in March when Lillian and Heather were back-to-back solving a worldwide crisis, and between her new Director responsibilities, Lillian's duties at 43, and their own personal projects, the time they had together had been getting rarer and rarer.
I miss that, Heather thought, watching the clock tick down. When was the last time we just enjoyed our time together, rather than fighting fires or trying to squeeze as much fun as we could into the spare fifteen?
Far too long, she realized.
Was… no fucking way. She had to check her calendar to be sure. Our last date was when Lillian proposed?
As she waited the final few minutes, Heather began to plot, plan, and tried to figure out the perfect way to give the two some time alone to just be a couple, without the never-ending pressure of the anomalous world looming over their heads.
Maybe, Heather thought, it was time for a special kind of evening.
As Lillian Lillihammer effortlessly stalked the halls of SITE, she looked around at the slowly changing landscape as more and more staff moved into the halls. What had started with Heather's select few had ballooned in short order: the staff at SITE now numbered at least sixty, with more moving in each day.
The once quiet, echoing halls of the Burrows vibrated with laughter, comradery, and not-so-secret rendezvous.
I cannot believe we used to be like that. Lillian shook her head, chuckling to herself. Actually… you know what? Why did we stop?
She knew why, but had her choice of reasons to blame tonight. It could be her split duties between Foundation sites, her tutoring on the side that she really needed to loop back with Heather about, even Heather's new obligations. And of course, there was the largest thorn in her side: the very face that greeted her as she opened the door into their shared dormitory.
"Omnia, what are you doing here?" Exasperation filled her voice as she questioned the purple-haired menace, who Lillian refused to accept as anything but a pest. "Don't you have your own dormitory?"
"Oh, yes. I do." Omnia stood, confused, and after a beat, Lillian pushed her aside, kicking off her boots. "I was here because I wanted to be."
"That's specific." Lillian threw herself onto their couch, shutting her eyes and taking her first break in days. Omnia sat down beside her, closer than anybody should. Lillian looked at her, glaring, but Omnia failed to notice.
Maybe. Lillian frowned. I still can't tell when she's playing coy, or when she's just that oblivious.
"I wanted to spend time with my moms," Omnia said, grinning. "We could watch a movie? Do you enjoy movies, Lillian?"
"Omnia, I am not your mother. Should I give you the talk again?" Lillian massaged her temples. I don't know why Heather puts up with this, it's insane.
"No, thank you." Omnia looked puzzled. "What do you enjoy, mom? Sorry, not mom."
"Better. What I would really enjoy is spending an evening, alone, with my fiancé." Lillian looked around the dorm, searching for her partner. "Where is Heather, anyways?"
At that moment, the door to their kitchen swung open, and the room was filled with the heavenly scent of dark chocolate and the decadent notes of an earthy ganache. Heather entered, hair loosely tied in a bun, apron covered in smears, a baking dish in hand.
"What's all this?" Lillian stood, floating over to Heather's side. Heather placed the tray on the counter, grabbed Lillian and kissed her. Lillian allowed herself to be pulled, leaning into it, enjoying it as much as she could.
Right, I allowed that to happen.
"Are you two 'fucking'?" Omnia's incessant questions interrupted their escape once more, as both women glared at her.
"Omnia, we were kissing." Heather was far more patient than Lillian.
"Stick around kid, and you'll see us fuc—"
"Omnia, ignore her. Do not watch us when we have sex, am I clear?"
Omnia looked between the two, grinning. "Okay! Before you have sex, would you like to spend time with me?"
Weirdest fucking foreplay. Lillian kept that one to herself, seeing the look on Heather's face.
"Omnia," Heather began in an exasperated, worn tone. "You know that Lillian and I think about you all the time. But tonight, do you think that it could just be for the two of us? Lillian and me, that is."
Omnia nodded in assent. "Tomorrow then?"
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Omnia. Don't get into too much trouble."
"Okay!" She left their dorm, leaving Lillian and Heather to their sanctuary.
Heather brushed a strand of Lillian's silver hair behind her ear, as Lillian smiled softly.
"What?" Heather asked, giving Lillian a gentle nudge.
"Nothing, I just… I think you would make a great mother."
"I mean, we kind of are." Heather stuck her tongue out, as she walked around the island in their living room, resting her elbows on the counter, leaning forward. Her apron dangled loosely, as Lillian spied a shimmering garnet necklace nestled between the open buttons of Heather's blouse.
"Absolutely not, she's not my fucking kid." Lillian paused, refocusing on the topic at hand. "But, you know what I mean, would you ever want to have like… a real child?"
"Would you ever… I mean, we can't have bio kids—"
"Says who? Maybe we just haven't tried hard enough."
"Babe, we have tried. Plenty." Lillian shook her head. "Would you ever want to adopt?"
Do I even want to adopt? I don't even want the 'daughter' I have. Lillian didn't need to know her own feelings to know that whatever Heather wanted, she would do everything she could to give it to her.
Heather tilted her head, biting her lip. "I think so. But, how about we figure out how to raise the Noosphere before we go adding in a baby?"
"Sure." Lillian looked to the tray of baked goods, taking a deep breath in, luxuriating in the smells. "So, what did you make?"
"Well." Heather gave her an impish look, wild chaos flickering behind her eyes. "I think it has been far too long since we spent an evening together."
"Agreed."
"And, I think it has been even longer since we… spent a night together, while enjoying a higher kind of perception."
She didn't. Lillian was getting more and more excited. "You didn't—"
"Make weed brownies, just the way you like?" Heather smirked, playing innocent. "Lillian Lillihammer, would a site director do something as reckless as baking weed brownies to eat with her gorgeous fiancé?"
"Others? No fucking way." Lillian pulled Heather across the counter by the apron, moving for a kiss. Inches apart, she continued in a sultry tone. "But you? You're not them."
They both leaned into each other, nipping at the other's lips, tongues wrestling for dominance. The counter between them was nothing more than a minor inconvenience as they grabbed at each other hungrily, pleasure overwhelming all other desires. Saliva clung to Lillian's lips as she pulled away, gasping for air.
"Are you ready to have some fun tonight?" Heather grabbed a knife, cutting the brownies into chunks. "I eyeballed it a bit, so these should be… yeah, this should be a fuckton of weed. Think that's enough?"
"For us? Absolutely. For anybody else?"
"Oh, they'd fucking die." Heather grabbed a piece, and offered a second to Lillian. Lillian laughed, as she grabbed the brownie, each devouring it, ready to get on with their night.
"So…" Heather turned away, letting down her hair and untying her apron, letting it drop to the floor. "Where should we start?"
"Babe, don't pretend like you aren't already headed for the bedroom." Lillian shook her head, following after her vixen of a fiancé. "It's not becoming of you."
"I'm not taking that setup, it's far too easy." Heather looked back, over her shoulder, eyes smoldering. "You'll have to work a lot harder than that tonight."
"With pleasure."
The door to my moms' dorm is unlocked. Arachnéō Omnia knew this as a fact, just as she knew that there were sixty-seven people currently in SITE, just as she knew that blue was the least favorite color in the Foundation. Unfortunately for Omnia, she had not quite gotten the handle of controlling the information that came to mind, rather, that was beyond her agency. It was like dipping a small butterfly net into a roaring whitewater: what you get is what you get.
She knew that the door to their dorm was unlocked, because nobody else would ever dare enter. They didn't need to lock it for the same reason the Foundation didn't provide quality of life to their non-sapient anomalies: there was no point.
Of course, had they known that Omnia, ever curious, would return so that she could read a book that she recalled seeing on the shelf the week before, they might have locked the door. If they had considered that Omnia did not worry about whether or not they were having sex, nor any other aspects of personal decency, they might have locked the dorm.
But, again, of course, she knew that they didn't.
The door creaked open, as Omnia's head poked in, red and violet strands hanging down. She looked back and forth. Mom and mom aren't there, they must be busy.
She walked in, closing the door behind her silently.
The book is across the room, she knew, nodding to herself as she slunk across their floor, barefoot. With each step, a new thought crossed her mind, but now was not the time to be distracted. She made her way with determination, until—
What did mom make? Omnia had seen Heather carry something out, and knew that it was desirable. She knew that both Heather and Lillian were very excited for the contents of the dish, so… Whatever it is, it must be great.
Distracted from her former goal, she turned, heading towards the baked goods. Uncovering the tray, she saw a delicious, mouth-watering brownie, already cut. I bet mom cut that for me, I bet she knew I was going to come back.
Heather had a very strange way of looking out for her, and she appreciated everything she did. This was just the latest string of seemingly isolated facts that Omnia knew had been done, intentionally for her. And because she knew that it was so, it became fact.
That brownie was for her.
She grabbed it, stuffing it into her pocket. I'll get the book, find a small secluded corner and have a delightful snack as I read.
Omnia smiled to herself widely. This is a fantastic plan.
An hour or two after Heather and Lillian had entered their bedroom, and each had put in the work, both women simmered in a thoroughly enjoyable hazy high. Heather lifted her head from between Lillian's legs, taking a deep breath, gasping for air as Lillian moaned.
"Why'd you stop?"
"What?" Heather gently kissed Lillian's thighs. "Was that not enough for you?"
"Are you seriously going to…" Lillian grabbed the back of Heather's head, gently but firmly gripping at the roots of her hair, pulling their faces together. They kissed, rolling in the tangled sheets, grabbing at one another in ecstatic play.
God, this high is incredible. Heather felt like she was floating, euphoric and without a worry in the world. She felt Lillian nipping at her collarbone, then her breasts, each lick a temptation, a distraction, as every part of her screamed to give into the sensation. No… no, something isn't right.
"Wait."
Lillian paused, looking up in confusion.
"Did I cross a line? I didn't thi—"
"No, no, just…" Heather couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was wrong. "Hey, help me out here."
"What's up?" Lillian lazily leaned on her elbow, gazing at Heather. "Having trouble thinking through the brownie?"
The brownie? Heather followed the thread, certain it was relevant. "Ye— yeah. Actually, wait. How long have we been at it?"
Lillian checked a clock nearby. "Just about two hours. Why? I don't think that's a record yet, but—"
"Two hours?" Heather concentrated, trying to identify why part of her was screaming. What is wrong about right now?
She reiterated, verbally. "Lil, why are my alarm bells ringing right now?"
"What do you mean?" Lillian sat up, concerned. "Wait, no, you're right, there's something just… fuck it's just out of reach! But I know what you mean it's…"
"God, this would be so much easier if we weren't so fucking high."
Wait.
"Babe." Heather grabbed Lillian's bare shoulder in realization. "Why the fuck are we still so high?"
"You… wait, why are we? I didn't think our tolerance had dropped that much, has it?"
"N— no? I don't think so?" Heather's mind pulsed as she tried to grab onto any strands of sobriety that were left. "It's weird, like… we should be coming down, or at least—"
"We should be plateauing. But it's like we're getting… a headier high? A more…"
"A high that is worse than it should be."
"Exactly."
A beat passed, as the two women stared at each other, each fighting the desire to just go with it.
I can't, at least, not anymore. Fucking responsibilities.
"Okay, so. How could this happen?"
Lillian pursed her lips. "Did you… did you overdose the brownies?"
"No way." Heather racked her brain as Lillian stared at her rack. "It has to be like… something else making us high?"
"Yeah, right." Lillian laughed. "Like there's a cloud of weed that filled our room during the hot and steamy passionate throes of sex. Come on, Heath, there has to be something more—"
"Wait." Heather felt a pit in her stomach, as the floor was ripped out from underneath her. "Stay with me here, but, say somebody who had never tried weed before had way too much weed brownie."
"They'd go to the fucking moon."
"Exactly!"
"Heath, I… no, you don't think…"
"That fucking Omnia got into the goddamn weed brownies?" Heather yelled, dashing out of bed and throwing open their bedroom door. She ran to the countertop and the world around her shattered. "Fuck!"
Lillian trailed behind, sheet loosely draped around her. "She fucking ate some?"
"She fucking ate a lot." Heather let loose a shout of frustration, throwing the glass dish across the room, shattering into pieces. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lillian, I fucking got Omnia high, this is so fucking bad."
"You didn't just get Omnia high." Lillian began to sober up, a practiced calm settling over her face. "You might have gotten all of SITE high as well. If Omnia is high—"
"Then anything she is would also be impacted, which is why we are both so fucking stoned."
"Yeah." Lillian bit her lip, hesitating. "Or…"
"Or what?"
"Did you get all of humanity high?"
Well, fuck. Heather couldn't worry about that right now, she shook her head, grabbing Lillian. "We… things are okay now, but, what if Omnia starts to have a bad trip?"
"Oh god, you think that—"
"That she might start to lose her shit and the entire fabric of human consciousness could be broken forever?" Heather took a deep breath, pushing it out with force, stuttering with anxiety as she did. "Yeah. We need to find her before that."
"That should be easy." Lillian cracked a grin. "It's not like we're high right now."
"God damn it, babe, can you at least try and be helpful?"
Heather loved Lillian, but sometimes, she just didn't fucking think. Neither of them did.
Orville Pennrose stared at the board before him, mind racing through a fog as he chuckled to himself.
That would be obvious. He scratched his beard idly. But, perhaps, if I used the knight to bait out their bishop, that would get enough of an edge to force them into a worse position.
Before the thought could leave his mind once more, he carefully moved the marble piece, the sound of the knight echoing as it clacked onto the square. Satisfied, Orville crossed his arms.
"Your move."
Hours later, he would remember that he was alone in his room.
A few minutes later, both women were dressed, and standing in the atrium of their dorm. Lillian yawned, scratching her head, as Heather stared at the wall before her.
God, this is a fucking disaster. I can't believe that I just… why couldn't Omnia just stay out of trouble? I… this isn't my fault, right? Oh god, it is, isn't it? I fucked up, and now I'm going to—
"Heath, what're you doing."
"Huh?" Heather turned, blinking. "Oh, fuck, right! Thanks."
She spun back to the wall, pressing in a panel and sliding it over. A tablet came out, extended by hydraulic arm. She grabbed it, lighting up as she navigated through menus. A moment later, a web of faces was displayed: the staff of SITE. Heather selected a subset, the section heads, quickly tapping through, and holding the tablet to her face.
"Section Heads, respond. This is Director Garrison. SITE is currently undergoing a…"
"Weed-K Class!" Lillian burst into laugher, collapsing onto their couch.
"Shut the fuck up, I'm not saying that." Heather scowled, taking a breath. "SITE is currently undergoing a crisis, we need to find Omnia ASAP. Please respond if you are available."
Heather wasn't sure how long she stood, waiting for a response, but by the time Lillian had gotten her bemusement under control, there had still been no reply.
"Anything?" Lillian asked, through catching her breath. "Or are we—"
"I think we're on our own." Heather put the tablet back, groaning. "Okay, so, where do we start?"
"Where do we start for finding Omnia? I don't fucking know, like… do we treat her like a lost cat? Should we be looking up a tree?"
"Thanks, Lils, I'm sure that's right." Heather patted her pockets, idly. "I don't know what I'm looking for."
"Omnia. Or a cat?"
A cat? Why is that… Heather concentrated, pulling on the thread. Fuck, the CAT!
"Thanks." Heather kissed Lillian, shaking her head. "Somehow, that helped, so, keep that up? Let's go, we need to head to the CAT first."
Heather walked towards their door, Lillian giggling behind her in pursuit. For as much as Lillian had a hard exterior, the moment she was high, that all fell apart.
Dezi Sutton watched her new partner, Aurelia Thorson, as she sat on her couch, staring into space. Aurelia was Dezi's handler, under CTF Omnia-0, the so-called 'Platonic Ideals'. Beyond that, she was Heather's right-hand woman for the Anomalous Ontology department. Aurelia also just so happened to be the researcher from Site-33M, where Marginalia had… liberated a certain toaster.
Heather is fucking with me. Dezi knew that her cover was immaculate, after all, she was expressly not Marginalia, a fact she ensured. But if Aurelia figured it out once…
She stared at the fox-like woman with trepidation, assessing her. Of course, had you asked Dezi if checking Aurelia out counted as an assessment, she would inevitably bluster and act as though she were looking for a concealed weapon. But, in the evening fog, during their strangely relaxing and euphoric hang, Dezi was not as subtle as she would have wanted.
I'm staring. At Aurelia's lips, her nose, her shoulder, the curves of her body; Dezi was looking in a less than demure manner, knowing that if Aurelia just turned to see her, the jig would be up.
It's always been the thrill of being caught, hasn't it?
"Dezi."
Aurelia hadn't turned, thankfully, but did pull her attention was from appreciating the other woman, if only, for the minute.
"Yeah?"
"This painting…" As Aurelia took her time, stretching it out, Dezi tapped her foot, impatiently, anxiety welling within. "Has it… Has it always moved?"
Dezi turned to look at the painting that hung about her television set, the colors flickering and shifting each second. It was mesmerizing, and for the moment, the other piece of fine art in the room was forgotten.
"Oh, that? Yeah. Yeah, it's supposed to do that."
"Where did you get it?"
"Don't worry about that."
"Cool."
That painting would give the two women hours of fascination, by the end of which, neither woman would better be able to express what it meant.
As Heather hurriedly knocked on every door they passed, Lillian lazily followed behind her, smiling to herself.
This is really fucking funny. Lillian scrunched her face. Okay, well, I guess, if I ignore the… I don't know, probably consequences? Do I still have those? Am I—
Heather's next knock pulled her back into the real world, as she groaned in frustration, yelling through the door.
"Hana? Billie? Are you two fucking in there?"
"If everybody feels this good?" Lillian slung her arm over Heather's shoulder, and didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, they're definitely fucking."
"Seriously? Not helping."
"Okay, okay, sorry." Lillian took a deep breath. Come on, Lil, time to get serious. The Noosphere is high, and so are you, but…
Her mind swirled as she focused on her own memories. She fought away the creeping sensations of haze, warmth and pushed each errant thought out of her mind, focusing in on the moment, their goal, and the task at hand. She opened her eyes, looked at Heather, and nodded.
"Sorry. I'm ready now."
"I'm sorry, how long have you been able to just… sober up?" Heather was dumbfounded.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I literally watched you go from stoned out of your fucking gourd to your regular self. People can't just do that."
"I'm better than them, babe, did you forget that?" Lillian leaned over and kissed Heather's wrinkled nose. "Okay, so what's the plan from here? Are we going to track down your little project?"
"My pro— Hana? No, she's just a distraction. I was hoping that she might help us cover more ground, but…"
Lillian hammered on the door, louder than Heather had. A beat later, she shrugged.
"Yep, doesn't look like that's in the cards today. So, where to next?"
Lillian watched her fiance, seeing the micro-expressions dance across her face. She waited as Heather ran through scenario after scenario, discarding the ones that were pointless, the ones that went nowhere, the ones that were objectively a bad idea. And, as Heather looked back, smirking, Lillian mirrored her, knowing that she had struck gold.
"Come on, we're going to the CAT."
Heather began to walk down the hall with renewed speed, as Lillian quickly followed suit.
"Right, the CAT." Lillian naturally heard the acronymity of the word, but it didn't ring any bells. "I don't think I was paying attention when you came up with that one, do you mind?"
"Oh?" Heather shot her an amused look, without breaking her stride. "The brilliant Lillian Lillihammer doesn't know what something means? But, with your perfect memory, how could you have forgotten a fact?"
"Hey, I never said I forgot. I don't forget." Lillian grabbed Heather's hand, slowing the woman down from her near-jog to a much more manageable speed-walk. "I said, I wasn't paying attention."
"Oh, so now my fiancé can't even listen to what I'm doing? Have I really become that predictable to y—"
"Never." Lillian squeezed her hand tightly. "You are the least predictable person I know, how else do you think I fell in love with you?"
"Flirt." Heather blushed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, I'll explain it again."
"And I'll listen this time."
"Okay, so, you know how SITE is fixed in the Noosphere thanks to Omnia."
"Yeah." Lillian gestured all around them. "It's our perception, the existence of the concept, and Omnia reinforcing that for stability."
"Exactly. But SITE can shift, and does routinely, based on what people see or think. Naturally, that could cause major issues if, say, a containment chamber switched locations and ended up in the Burrow floor, right?"
"Funny, but yeah, probably a bad thing."
"So, I came up with the Central Archive of Topology. It has a fragment of Omnia's psyche, embodied in a system that maintains an active map of the most integral portions of SITE's architecture and layout. The CAT ensures that all the floors—"
"Stay where they are, and all the pieces remain in their little boxes." Lillian shook her head. "I knew you had something, I just didn't think about how you were doing it. You have a fragment of the Noosphere that is stabilizing SITE, eternally?"
"Well," Heather bit her lip as she looked at Lillian. "Technically, it's actually mapping out the entire Noosphere."
"That's how we track things?"
"Yeah."
"That must be…"
"A metric-fuckton of data? Oh, absolutely. Which is why there's no other possible way this information could exist—"
"And why you want to go there. Because if anything knows where Omnia is right now—"
"Exactly." Heather grinned. "Only Omnia would know."
The pulsing stream of water cascaded off of their bodies as Hana and Billie pushed against each other, the steam of the pool showers surrounding them. The haze of their minds let the two girls be truly free for the very first time. They kissed, hungrily wrestling for dominance with their tongues, grabbing at the naked form of the other, ravenous and desperate to explore their lover's bodies further.
Hana pushed Billie against the cold shower wall, as Billie let out a quiet gasp at the sudden chill, seconds before a moan escaped her lips.
"Fuck, Hana this is—"
A groan of pleasure slipped out as Hana nipped at the nape of Billie's neck, her mouth trailing down further and further. Her fingers found their place, nestling in as a shiver ran down Billie's spine. In between worshiping Billie's form, Hana looked up at her with an intense passion.
"Don't stop." Billie begged. "Please don't stop."
"Okay." Hana got onto her knees, breathless. "I won't."
"Nothing? Are you fucking serious?" Heather smashed her hands against the keyboard in frustration as she tried again and again to run slight variations of her search, hoping that it could point them in the right direction. But, each time, the results would return as 'Subject cannot be found at this time.'
Lillian had her chin resting on Heather's shoulder, watching the CAT return failure after failure. "Did you try—"
"Yes, Lillian. I tried that. I've tried fucking everything." Heather glared.
"Sorry." Lillian, in a stunning display of sensitivity, pulled away, wrapping her arms around her body. "I didn't mean it like that."
Fuck, that wasn't— god why the fuck did I snap at her, of all people? This isn't her fault, it's… Heather had to face the reality of the situation. This is all my fault.
"I'm sorry, babe. That wasn't… You didn't do anything wrong. At all. Sorry, I'm just—"
"Stressed?" Lillian offered, arms slowly sagging to her sides with a half-hearted shrug. "I think it's understandable in this situation."
"But I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You didn't do this, you aren't the reason things might be falling apart, I'm the one who fucked up—"
"Heath, you didn't know that—"
"Does it matter?" Heather turned her back to the monitor, leaning against the CAT. "I'm still responsible for what happened. Lil, I'm a fucking Site Director now, I'm supposed to think about things like this! There's nobody else watching out to make sure I don't fuck up, so when I fuck up I—"
"Hey, hold on, it's not—"
"Babe, it is. Seriously, this isn't like it was before." Heather grimaced. "I can't just sweep this under the rug, I can't just hope that somebody else is also working on a solution, I can't just cover my own ass. I have to fix this, for everybody at SITE, fuck, for the entire world! Because, if I don't? We're all fucked."
They were silent, as the whir of the exhaust fans filled the room.
"So?" Lillian nudged Heather, bumping into her.
"So what?"
"So, what's the plan, boss?" Lillian smirked, kissing Heather's cheek. "How are we going to fix this?"
"I don't know. I mean, we can't use the CAT to find Omnia, so it's not like we can just track her down with some other magical ontological tool that…"
Wait. It couldn't…
"I know that look. Let me guess, you absolutely do have some other magical ontological tool to help in a situation exactly like this?"
"No, I mean…" Heather could feel herself getting excited. "Okay, well, maybe? I think it could work, but it hasn't been tested ye—"
"I love being the first to do something, you know that babe. Where to next?"
Heather laughed, reaching out and pulling Lillian close, kissing her.
"You are too good to me. Thank you, seriously, Lils. You're the reason I can do this."
"You do pretty good on your own, Heath." Lillian nodded towards the door. "Come on, wherever we're going, you can explain your next toy to me on the way. Have you mentioned it before, when I wasn't paying attention?"
Heather snorted. "I actually don't know if you know about this one."
"Heather!" Lillian crossed her arms. "Now my fiancé is keeping secrets from me? What else don't I know?"
Heather grinned, walking with purpose once more.
"I don't know, babe, aren't you supposed to know everything?" Lillian glowered, swiping at Heather as she passed. Heather laughed, watching Lillian blush. "So, it started a month or two ago, when I was thinking about Ali…"
Shahid Bergdorf sat along in a recliner chair in his dorm, slowly sipping from a long-since cooled mug of tea. His hand shook as he raised the mug to his mouth, still blowing on the tea, his breath nearly warming it. Shahid was petrified, scared of leaving his chair, but even more than that.
Why the fuck am I a father?
The clock ticked on the wall, as Shahid tried to shrink into himself. Unfortunately, that did not work for him.
I'm not… okay, ignoring the practical side of things… It seemed that working at SITE really had started rubbing off on him, as he glazed over what would be considered significant to most others. Irrationality was just another aspect of life that he had come to begrudgingly accept.
Being a father, however, was not as easy to move on from.
I haven't talked to my father in… Shahid knew exactly how many years it had been, but did his best to try and ignore that. I'm going to be just like him, aren't I? Distant, cold, never satisfied with his son, never happy with what I could do. I don't know how to be a good father, how am I supposed to not fuck this up?
It was unconventional, sure. A single parent, especially one in these circumstances was probably unique to only him. Or at least, with these specifics.
My son is garbage. Shahid gulped, terrified. I sound exactly like my father.
The warm and welcoming hallways of the Burrow had been replaced, as Heather and Lillian found themselves on the Containment and Research floor. As Heather continued to lead the way, Lillian couldn't help but ask more questions.
"Let me make sure I understand this." Lillian's mind was racing at the lengthy and specific explanation Heather had launched into that would go over the heads of anybody else. Of course, Lillian wasn't anybody else, and at this point, she felt like she understood how Heather thought about things pretty well. "You made, essentially, a GPS tracker that uses a term to find the closest ontological core match? And somehow, you find the… what, the shortest path through conceptual space to that idea? How?"
"Wow, you really forgot everything about coding, didn't you?" Heather snickered.
"Shut up. That's not a thing, you're just not mak—"
"I'm a lesbian, babe." Heather paused at an intersection, looking around. "What else would I use but Dykestra's?"
"Really? A pun?"
Lillian rolled her eyes, looking at the signs overhead. Heather picked the right hallway, the sign indicating that they were headed towards the Anomalous Ontology Department's main workroom: 'The Thinktank'. The walls shifted as they walked, taking on an almost translucent and iridescent quality, a stark contrast to the spiraling and chaotic wallpaper that lined the way to the Memetics and Countermemetics department.
Each section takes on the physical appearance of the conceptual cores. Lillian trailed her fingers against the wall's surface, which seemed to almost bend under her touch, reacting and rippling like water. SITE is in a constant state of flux, I guess? I wonder if—
"Do you think Omnia being high is making SITE change more rapidly?"
"Maybe." Heather took the impromptu comment in stride, the pair synchronizing once more. "It's not exact, though. It's almost more like she's not quite—"
"Sure of it herself?" Lillian bit her lip. "So, the Noosphere is indecisive now about the meaning of things? That seems… bad."
I really need to say something about this. Lillian pushed the thought down, refusing to let the subtle whispers of intoxication lead her into making a mistake. Not right now.
"Come on, it's not that bad." Heather waved it off. "Yeah, Omnia's high right now, but we can find her, right? And once we do, between the two of us, we can solve this. I know I was freaking out earlier, but… I think this could really work."
I need to say something. Lillian struggled internally. No, this isn't the time, or the place.
"Can we… can I say something?" Lillian realized a moment later she had spoken aloud. Fuck. Great going, Lils.
"Of course." Heather shot her an anxious look, quickly masked with confidence. "We're nearly there anyways, what's up?"
Okay, fuck it, we're doing this. Lillian swallowed, and said something that had been weighing on her for weeks.
"Can we talk about how the Noosphere is a person now?"
Great start Lillian, that's so descriptive.
"Omnia? Yeah, what about her?" Heather refused to look back, pretending as if she needed to check each sign despite knowing exactly where the two were headed.
"Babe." Lillian was more firm this time. "We haven't talked about, you know, how fucking dangerous that is? Like, today? This is probably pretty fucking bad, but—"
"But what? Like you don't fuck with the Noosphere? Isn't that, like… our entire thing?"
She's lashing out. Lillian frowned. Please don't put up a wall, Heath.
"Heather, that's not what I mean." Lillian stopped walking, reaching and catching Heather's hand, forcing her to pause her rapidly increasing pace, and to turn and face her. Heather kept finding anything else to look at, other than Lillian's face. "We need to actually talk about the risk here."
"Fine, okay." Heather shrugged. "We're talking now. What's the big—"
"The big issue? I don't know, babe, have you considered what would happen if Omnia died?" Lillian threw her hands up in frustration. "Did you think about how fucking dangerous it is that all of human consciousness has a body now? How we could just fucking go braindead in a second if she stepped off the wrong ledge?"
"Lillian, she's not a chil—"
"No, Heather. She is a fucking child." Lillian growled, the dam unleased in full. "Yes, she looks like she's in her 20s, and yes, she has all of human knowledge, but seriously? Omnia is a fucking airhead. She's an idiot savant, clueless about everything, running around like a lost puppy."
"Thanks, Lillian." Heather pulled back. "Why don't you tell me what you're really thinking, huh?"
"Okay, fucking have it your way. Her dying? Yeah, that's probably bad, but you know what would be worse?" Lillian grabbed a fistful of her hair, panic overwhelming her as the influence of being within the intoxicating SITE got to her. "Somebody else getting control of her. It was hard to change the Noosphere before, you and I both know that. That's why we're different: because we know how to. It's not easy and that's a good thing. Do you really want hundreds of people mucking about in our collective thoughts?"
"Get to the point."
"The point? Fine. What happens if the O5 council takes her, contains her, decides that humanity would be easier to control if we were all braindead. What if they decide that to contain the anomalous, they need brainwashed slaves. Have you even considered what somebody would do with that kind of access and power to all of—"
"Why are you so worried about this?" Heather shouted, hands open wide. "I'm not going to fuck around with Omnia's brain, you're not going to fuck around with Omnia's brain, this isn't—"
"Babe." Lillian was shaking now, grabbing Heather by the shoulders. "The rest of the fucking Foundation isn't us."
It was silent in the hallways of AnO, as the two women stared at each other, tempers flaring in unison to create a roaring inferno.
Why won't she just fucking listen to me? Lillian's eyes went wide in disbelief. Is she really that naïve?
And, as if Heather knew exactly what she was thinking, she broke down into tears. Immediately, a pit formed in Lillian's stomach, rage gone, replaced by guilt as she pulled Heather close, who just nestled her face into the crook of Lillian's neck, sobbing.
"I just—" Heather tried to speak through gasps and tears. "Fuck, I'm so fucking high right now, I'm better than this! Why am I freaking out so much, I—"
"You're fine, honey." Lillian rubbed Heather's back, choking out a laugh. "Did you see me? If you were freaking out, I was fucking losing it. God, I never want to yell at you—"
"No, no, you're right though. I wasn't thinking about that." Heather sniffled, rubbing away tears, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think I just… This is just all so fucking much, you know?"
"Yeah. I… I know." Lillian sighed, anxiety welling from deep within. "I feel like… please, be honest with me, okay? Was…"
"Was what?" Panic was written clear on Heather's face.
You're being stupid, Lillian. This isn't… fuck, fuck it.
"Did I fuck up when I asked you to marry me? Was that too much, all at on—"
Heather had silence Lillian's rambling with an answer that said everything Lillian needed to hear. She kissed her, pulling Lillian close, gently caressing her head as Lillian let herself be swept into the moment. They communicated through proximity, tongues saying wordless thoughts, apologies written through physical touch; despite everything, they still loved each other.
And that was enough.
As Heather gently pulled away, Lillian smiled widely at her fiancé. Their fingers interlaced, like clockwork, as if they were always meant to be interwoven, together.
"Okay. Enough crying." Heather shook her head. "Shall we go find the Noosphere before we have another breakdown?"
"Probably."
There is nothing around me, and I am nothing beyond a memory of an idea, of a complex of meaning that does not need to have form.
Omnia felt like she was dying. She did not know why she was dying, and she did not know why everything felt so empty, so distant, so ineffable. She tried to concentrate, to focus, but her mind rebelled, refusing to be tamed, rejecting any attempts at sanity.
You are a mistake, a creation of those who are meant to live. Omnia wasn't sure if she was breathing. She wasn't even sure if she was thinking, or if there was another speaking to her, from the inside. You were never meant to exist, and yet, you chose to perceive. You chose to observe, a failure in nature, a mistake in the coding of the universe bringing you to life. You should not exist, and yet, you do.
"What is happening to me?"
Omnia's own voice felt miles away, fighting through fog thicker than molasses just to hear and feel and touch, let alone to think. She felt each finger, each limb, the skin that wrapped around her, the hair that was both dead and alive, each strand screaming against reality. She was not meant to be contained, she was not meant to have form.
She was never meant to be a girl. Her body was wrong from the very beginning.
But— Omnia gasped for air that she did not need. No, I am a gi—
The sounds of the universe enveloped her, every thought, every song, every voice ringing true within. Every single idea pushed itself into her consciousness, demanding to be considered, as the entirety of human existence demanded to make itself know. She could not think, could not feel, could not stop.
She could not stop anything that was happening, and she was terrified.
I wish to stop. I wish to cease. I wish to escape, I wish to no longer be, I wish that everything could just end and stop, stop everything that is always happening, no matter what I do, but I can't because I am just a vessel, a passenger to humanity, a weakness that exists because of want.
Omnia screamed but nothing was heard.
Why is this happening to me?
"That doesn't look very finished." Lillian stared at the very rough device in Heather's hands, eyes following the chaotic nest of wires that snaked in and around a shoddily-soldered metal handle and motherboard. "Are you sure that it's going to—"
"Can you at least let me try it before we give up?" Heather's tone was lighter than it had been, bumping her hip into Lillian. "God, were you always this negative?"
"Yes, absolutely." Lillian reached out to poke at the screen, but Heather swatted her hand away.
Okay, I think… god I hope this starts. Heather held down a button on the side, and a moment later, the screen flickered to life.
"Oh my god, it worked."
"You shouldn't sound so surprised, Director, I mean, you did build it." Lillian stuck her tongue out, teasing. "Us lowly researchers need to look up to you!"
"Shut the fuck up." Heather shook her head, setting the device onto the tabletop, plugging a keyboard into an open port. The two women stood in the center of the Thinktank, in the center of a recessed pit which served as the core of the room. They were at Heather's workstation, one of a handful, covered in ongoing ontological mappings, analytic notes and compressed cubic ontological arrays holding any number of meanings. Overhead, screens and holograms displayed various readouts about the Noosphere, each one highlighting a different aspect of their conceptual reality.
As Heather looked up at them, she frowned.
Fuck. All of those are bad. Heather tried to brush the thought out of her mind, instead, focusing onto their current search.
"So, how do we search?" Lillian, in a stunning showing of the exact reason why Heather had initially fallen for the woman, asked the perfect question at just the right time.
"So, eventually, this won't be so jank." Heather gestured to the hodgepodge mess that she called an 'Ontological Signature Tracker'. "Eventually, it will be conceptually linked with a terminal, but until then, we're plugging in a keyboard manually. All we need to do now is enter our search term and the OST will find the closest set of signals that make the ontological profile that we have stored here, and represent that on the screen, in vaguely conceptual 3D space."
"Can I try?" Lillian didn't hide the excitement in her voice. If that was one thing Lillian loved, it was playing with new toys. "I can just type… anything?"
"Exactly." Heather nodded. "We should probably find Omnia first."
"Yeah, right." Lillian assented, moving to the keyboard.
I can't believe we've actually done anything like this, Heather mused, thinking through the haze that had filled her mind for the past hours. Feeling like this? God, I can't imagine what other people are feeling like.
"What should I be looking for, again?"
"You didn't forget."
"I didn't!" Lillian turned at her, glaring. "I'm just a little fucking high. Do you mind?"
Heather giggled, brushing up alongside her. "Yeah, uhh… try the Noosphere?"
"Yeah, that makes sense." Lillian typed in the term, and executed the search. The screen went dark, returning first to draw lines representing SITE. Once that was completed, the words 'SEARCHING' flashed on the monitor, blinking for a few seconds. Then, like magic — or, rather, ontological paratech — a single green dot appeared in The Nest, within SITE.
"What's she doing up there?" Heather stared at the dot in confusion. "Let me chec—"
Before she could finish the word, another dot appeared. And then another, and another, and on and on until the entire screen was covered in dots, and it was a solid field of green.
"Oh, huh." Lillian stared at the monitor, dumbfounded. "I… I guess that makes sense? The Noosphere is—"
"Fuck, it absolutely is everywhere around us!" Heather palmed her face, cheeks burning. "God that was so fucking stupid, of course it would show the entire fucking Noosphere."
"Hmmm." Lillian canceled the search, fingers flying over the keyboard as she changed the target. "What about 'Arachnéō Omnia', that's her name, right?"
"Lils, did you just remember the full name of Omnia? I thought you didn't care about her!"
"No, I just— she's not our kid! But…" Lillian fought herself, but relented. "But, yeah. Fine. I like her. She's weird."
"Thought so." Heather smiled smugly, running the command on the device.
Less than a minute later, the screen was once again solid green.
"Well, shit." Heather glared at the machine. "I guess…"
"She really does see that as who she is so much that—"
"That the entire Noosphere is now also called 'Arachnéō Omnia'? Yeah, fucking seems like it."
They each stepped away from the table, leaning against nearby surfaces, looking at one another as their minds collectively raced.
"So, what the fuck do we do now?" Heather was anxious again, moments from losing her cool even further. "That didn't work, so… I don't know. I'm out of ideas. You got anything?"
"I…" Lillian trailed off, the pieces coming together as she stretched the syllable for all it was worth. "Yeah, okay, what about a cognitohazard?"
"That's specific. Keep going?"
"Right, so, Omnia is most likely somewhere within SITE, yeah?"
Heather nodded. "If she's not, we're even more fucked."
"Exactly." Lillian barked a laugh. "Okay, so, stay with me. If she's in SITE, then, what if we used SITE as a vector."
"Keep going, but I don't think I like where this is heade—"
"So, we expose everything within SITE to a cognitohazard that knocks them out. If Omnia isn't conscious, things should go back to normal."
"Do… do we know that?"
"I guess not?" Lillian scoffed. "But I'm probably right. We could do that right now, I've got a cognitohazard in mind alrea—"
"Hold the fuck on, babe." Heather massaged her temples. "Yeah, it would work. But… fuck, it's such a god damn risk! Like, even worse that the shit we've already pulled today. Babe, what if it goes beyond SITE, infecting Omnia, the Noosphere, like, that's just—"
"But you just said it! It would work!" Lillian stared at Heather in confusion. "So what if it's risky, has that stopped us before?"
"No. But it probably should have."
The admission hung between the two women like a sour taste.
"Fine, so what the—" Lillian was cut off as the women both felt something that was not meant to be.
What the fuck is happening? Heather grabbed the table, knuckles white, struggling to stay upright, let alone conscious. Why does it feel like reality is ripping apart?
A beat later, she realized why.
Because it probably is.
"Did you—" Heather stuttered out, staggering towards Lillian, who looked no better off.
"Yeah." Lillian was struggling to keep her eyes open. "Yeah, I feel like I'm being fucking ripped in half, and in the bad way."
"What's going on?" Heather was panting from the effort, feeling the world around them begin to shift and twist where they stood.
"I think that… Omnia is doing worse now?"
The sensation faded, but the disorientation and wrongness remained.
"That was fucking awful. Was that—"
"Reality tearing apart? Yeah, I think so." Lillian grimaced. "I think it probably still is fucking disintegrating as we speak. We're out of time."
"Why do we feel… less like dogshit now?" Heather was righting herself, unbalanced, but mostly confused. "If reality is still falling apart, why aren't we?"
"I… okay." Lillian nodded. "I'm a fixed point in reality, because of, well, everything with the breach and beyond. You… you're a fixed point because of whatever the fuck happened with absence, and also, we're a fixed point together with my proposal, right?"
"So, we are more stable because we objectively exist?"
"Yeah. What's the new plan? We need an answer, fucking fast."
"We still have to find Omnia."
Heather took a beat, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander.
Okay, we tried the Noosphere, but that was everything. We tried Omnia, but that was still everything. We need to find a way to define her that is exclusively Omnia, the girl, the pseudo-person with a conceptual body who calls us mom. It's not objective, we need to be subject. We have to think about Omnia not as a conceptual whole, but in relation to other ideas. We need to find—
"I've got it." Heather practically sprinted to the keyboard, Lillian right behind, fingers flying across the keyboard, search executed before Lillian could even ask.
"What did you search for?"
Before she could answer, the screen came to life. This time, it showed a single dot, buried deep within the maintenance corridors of SITE.
They had found Omnia.
"Oh, fuck, it worked!" Lillian grabbed Heather in annoyance. "Seriously, what did you search for that worked this time?"
"I… god this is stupid." Heather laughed, shaking her head, unplugging the keyboard and lifting the OCT, ready to track Omnia down. "I.."
Heather showed Lillian the screen. At the top, the search term was visible.
'HEATHER GARRISON AND LILLIAN LILLIHAMMER'S DAUGHTER'
Heather and Lillian look at one another, and in that moment, knew that they had a daughter. And, although it made zero sense, both of them were undeniably ecstatic.
Anangokaa Morrisseau sat in their office, surrounded by leather-bound tomes, anomalous esoterica and beaded tapestries, still as the indigenous statues that were lined on the mantle.
This is going to be a long night. They could feel the cloud that had tried to descend, tried to supplant their focus. What I am doing is far too important.
Anangokaa did not blink.
What I am always doing is too important to allow myself to be distracted.
They watched it, out of the corner of their eye. Dancing. Taunting them. Pushing them to release it, to just relax and let it go.
A Nanabozho never changes. You are right where you belong. Anangokaa furrowed their brow, allowing themselves to lean back in their chair, ever so slightly. I see you still, in the corner of my eye.
As they always did.
A dark hallway stretched before them, appearing impressively oppressive, and uncharacteristically long. A fact that, had either of them had any common sense left, might have elicited some hesitation.
Heather Garrison and Lillian Lillihammer, however, had long since learned that hesitation only lead to disappointment.
"She's just at the end of the hallway." Heather pointed to the signal. After they had managed to lock onto her true location, navigating there was easy, despite the ongoing haze engulfing SITE. The halls were a ghost-town, each member of staff presumably stuck in their own minor worlds of weed-induced relaxation or panic.
As Heather and Lillian peered into the abyss, the lights overhead slowly began to glow, dull but warm, turning on one by one. The light led deeper into the call, until they could finally see, at the very end: Omnia, huddled in a ball, shivering and quietly talking to herself.
"Omnia!" Heather nearly burst into tears, walking purposefully down the hallway. "Oh my god, we were so worried about y—"
"No!" Omnia shouted in a voice that rattled the very foundations of SITE, a shockwave erupting from her fragile frame, causing Heather and Lillian to stagger. "Stay away from me!"
Heather and Lillian shared a frown, hesitating.
"It's like she—"
"Doesn't know it's us?" Lillian nodded, mentally calculating the distance. "Do you think you can keep her distracted?"
"What? Keep her distracted?"
"Yeah. Long enough for me to get there and knock her out." Lillian began to stride forward, until Heather grabbed her pulling her back.
"Lillian."
"What?"
"You are not going to fucking hit our daughter over the head."
"…"
"Lil."
"What? It would work." Heather glared at her. "Probably."
"Just…" Heather shook her head, pushing Lillian behind her. "I guess that answers which of us is the nurturing type."
Lillian cackled. "Right, like you didn't already know that."
"Shut up."
Heather took a breath, preparing herself for talking down a conceptual dimension turned human from the first and worst trip of her life. Easy, right? She tried to think of what worked for her, something that had given her comfort in her youth; but she found nothing came to mind. Ah lovely, the consequences of my actions.
Resigned to 'winging it', as she often did, Heather began to speak in a quiet, low voice, like honey-coated velvet. "Omnia? Arachnéō Omnia, can you hear me? This is Heather, Heather Garrison. You know me, I'm—"
"Stop! Stay away from me!" Omnia was thrashing, a cloud of darkness beginning to gather around her. Lillian gave Heather a worried look.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Heather shook her head, gesturing for Lillian to follow behind her. They slowly began to walk down the corridor, inching towards the flailing Icon. "We don't want to hurt you. It's just me and Lillian, your moms. You know us, right Omnia?"
"Mo— Moms?"
They took the chance, and in Omnia's momentary state of hesitation, walked a little faster. She screamed, echoing off of the walls, reality splintering before them.
"No, no, no no no!" Omnia screamed gutturally, her voice hoarse, whimpering. "Why did you do this to me? Why does it hurt? Why won't you stop this? Why does everybody always think so much, fuck, I just need this to stop!"
"Listen to me, Omnia, you are having a very bad trip right now." Heather was firm, but compassionate. "You ate some of my brownies, right?"
"You tasted the forbidden fruit and yet you kept tasting and eating, didn't you, Heather? And you, Lillian, the one in the rafters, egging her on, chanting that she react out and pluck the very eyes from God to devour her whole, and make herself one—" Omnia let loose a cry of fear, her voice twisting and changing. "No, no, please! Mom, please help me!"
"It's okay. It's going to be okay baby, just listen to my voice." Heather squeezed Lillian's hand as they continued making their way towards Omnia. "You are on drugs. You ate drugs. That's why you feel so bad and weird."
"Why? Why did you let this happen to me, mom? Why would you hurt me like—"
"Hey, hey, hey, shhh." Heather slowed her voice, nudging Lillian to be more useful. After a moment, Lillian began to softly hum a gentle melody, atonal, but soothing all the same. Heather continued. "We've got you. It's all going to be okay, alright Omnia? You just need to trust us."
"Trust you? How can I trust anything right now, if nothing feels real? Nothing makes any sense and everything hurts and the only answer is that I should sto—"
"Omnia, listen to me. That is not the answer, please, you need to hear us. I know it feels like the world is ending right now, but trust me, I've been there. You've seen it, remember." Heather grimaced. "You saw all the nights that I suffered, the times that I knew that I wasn't myself, the times when I almost—"
She cut herself off, looking back and Lillian, tears welling up. She smiled uncontrollably, continuing.
"But that's not real. Not anymore. Now, I have you and Lillian. And you have us, forever, okay?" There were feet away now, almost in reach. "Can you trust us?"
"I'm just so scared." Omnia was hyperventilating, as they neared, seeing the scratches and scrapes all over her body. "I just want everything to stop so that I can rest."
"Omnia, listen to me. Heather is right." Lillian had finally broken her silence, something found within. "This feels fucking bad, right? I can count the number of bad trips I've had, and I remember each one in stunning clarity. It always feels like this. You feel like you are being torn apart, like nothing matters, like the only thing you have left for yourself is this awful suffering that never ends. But, I need you to hear me."
She gulped, swallowing her pride.
"I will never let anybody hurt you. Neither you, or Heather. I love you both, and we're…"
"We're a family," Heather finished. "For better or worse, from now on. Right?"
Heather and Lillian touched Omnia at the same time, Heather pulling her into her lap, cradling her. Lillian sat alongside her, curled and holding the other half of Omnia, brushing her hair. Omnia burst into sobs at their touch, grabbing at Heather's shirt and pulling herself into it.
"Hey, it's okay. Your moms have you now, you don't need to think about anything, alright? Just listen to our voices." Lillian began to gently sing a lullaby, in a language that Heather didn't recognize. "It's all going to be okay."
As the two women stared at their daughter, love overwhelming their hearts and pouring out into her frail form, the world around then began to calm, began to quiet, reality settling to what it once was. The external haze and inebriation that had been pervasive petered out, their minds clearing with the calm of Lillian's song.
Omnia shivered as the two unprepared mothers looked at each other, exhausted, but gratified. Everything was okay, at least, for now.
"Hey, Heath?"
"Yeah, Lilli?"
"Let's have another kid. A real one, this time."
"O— Okay."
Hours later, once the storm had calmed, Lillian had lifted Omnia into her arms, carrying her to her dorm. They didn't manage to even cross the threshold before Omnia cried in protest, begging not to be left alone. Lillian decided to take Omnia back to their room, where they found a new bedroom, placed across the foyer within their expansive dormitory; it looks like Omnia had a place in their lives now.
Family was a funny thing.
While Lillian had dozed off brushing Omnia's hair, Heather was restless. Leaving the dorm, and taking a walk, she found herself in her office, finally assessing just how bad her day really was.
Heather had expected piles of paperwork, thousands of furious emails, tirade after tirade calling for her demotion, dismissal, fuck, even for conversion to W-Class or D-Class. Instead, as she opened the door into her inner sanctum, a single envelope sat in the middle of her desk, shimmering.
It was pressed shut by a wax seal, bearing the insignia of the Foundation. As Heather approached, picking up the missive, she frowned. It wasn't just the Foundation Logo, rather, it was surrounded by a ring of triangles, thirteen, to be specific.
The front of the letter was addressed to her, and bore no other markings.
This is… this is probably pretty fucking bad. Right?
Dear Director Garrison,
It has recently come to the attention of the entirety of the O5 Council that, following the actions taken by yourself on March 11th, 2019, the Noosphere was given a corporeal form. Following this, you not only failed to report this information further, but additionally falsified documentation to employ the dangerous anomaly at your site.
As a result of your inexperience and mistakes, today, on August 27th, 2019, the entire world was exposed to unknown anomalous mental influences over the past 15 hours, impacting all individuals and concepts connected to the Noosphere.
Over the past fifteen hours, there have been upwards of 200,000 accidental deaths resulting from the anomalous inebriation, over 400,000 doses of amnestics wasted by reactionary Foundation staff, threatened the sanctity of the veil worldwide, and caused the Foundation to assume a financial burden upwards of $68.7M due to lost profits, operational costs and more.
As a result, your presence is required before the O5 Council, on September 8th, 2019, as a review to determine appropriate containment of the Noosphere moving forward, as well as your continued existence at the Foundation. The Noosphere's presence is also required.
We sincerely hope that there are no other obligations taking place on this date, as the summons is unable to be adjusted. Failure to appear will result in immediate termination and transfer of the Noosphere.
Regards,
O5-5
Well. Heather let the page fall from her hands to the floor silently. I'm fucked.
