Alternate Realities: creation and creator

Xin couldn’t help noticing how wrong her judgments of the Supervisor had been. All detectives were instructed that the Supervisor was a decades-old uniform being, superior and godly to all. There were no pictures or altars in her name anywhere in Main Office, but that hadn’t struck Xin as weird until the Supervisor stood right before her. 

She stood, speechless, at the young woman who’d simply materialized into existence. Xin’s first thought was “is there a teleporter somewhere in this facility?”, and, “wow, she’s pretty”. Xin had never been nervous before, not in the line of duty, but she attempted to disguise her shock by saying something smart. 

“Uh, hello.” What in realities’ name was wrong with her? 

Xin pulled herself up straighter, remembering the Only Chance handbook. Detectives are meant to be transparent, firm, strong, dependable, and follow orders to the utmost. There; that was better. 

“I await your orders--does this have something to do with the breaches in Asia, Florida, and New York?” 

Detectives were meant to kill and do the dirty work for the greater good. It was what dignified their uniforms, struck any rebels with quaking fear. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the Supervisor did see right through her, worry plain on her face. The Supervisor was...worried. Xin struggled to keep her questions at bay; detectives had no say, and couldn't ask questions. 

“I came--erm--teleported here on urgent matters, Detective Xin. I picked you for this mission because the code--uh--rebels, are escaping from their fake realities, and I need to take charge of the situation. And you’re the best detective they--we have!” 

Xin should’ve been overjoyed that the Supervisor picked her above all the others, but that was probably because she killed first and checked to see if the body was the right person later. 

Still, while Xin was transparent, the Supervisor was...grand, beautiful, different from the brute who supervised other killing brutes Xin had pictured her as. Her long, flowy black hair danced on her shoulders, caramel skin vibrating under her purple tank top. She wore hiking boots--dressed like someone from one of the fake realities. 

People freed from the devil system had to wear the Main Office uniform to be distinguished from the others. That was the only rule; Main Office had gotten orders from the Supervisor and it was clear she was in charge. Nobody ever questioned anything. 

“You’ll get your recognition on the Fame List for a week if you choose to help me. But, you must swear not to do anything treacherous. I created the human program, and I can do much more with it.” 

A shiver ran up Xin’s spine and she nodded hastily. If she was thrown into some fake universe where she had no control over what was real or not real, she couldn’t survive. 

“Okay so what’s my job Supervisor?” What would she have to do? 

⊙ ❖ ⊙ 

Kaira is getting very tired of being in her own program. It was already alarming when she’d had to put a chip on herself, inducing her body in a relatively safe coma. 

She doesn’t tell Xin any of that (obviously, she’s scared half to death), but the failsafe is embedded into a part of the reality called ‘No Man’s Land’, a room for security purposes. Kaira isn’t a technology wizard; the chips came from the deadly machines programmed to behead her, but her gifts were transferrable. 

In truth, the only reason Kaira needs Xin is that she’s never been inside her own program before. It deals with real humans in comas, real rebels, and mauling detectives she ‘employed’. 

The only bad part is that to reset the rebels, she’ll need to go to No Man’s Land all the way...wherever it is. The chip Kaira wears around her neck can enter her into the program and exit when she finds the right loopholes. Like the bricks. Like the pestering fringes, rebels used to teleport across realities. 

Every program has its kinks, even after 10 years of working with it. One computer, two, three, ten. 

“Where are we going? The Asia, Florida, and NYC rooms are on the opposite side; we are going to be catching rebels, right?” 

God, Kaira hates how Xin talks about killing so smoothly. But that’s Kaira’s fault for messing with her brain; it’s for the best. Always. 

“For a detective, you talk an awful lot.” 

Xin shrinks back as Kaira checks out Main Office, the rooms, and the doors to each reality. Each thing is perfectly coordinated to what the program desired out of her. The things she did were all perfectly placed, but the rebels just had to mess it up. 

Why now? 

That’s the question Kaira doesn’t want to answer. Deliberately, she presses a palm up to the nearest “fake” wall, smoothed over by the illusion of tile. 

“What do you want?” She whispers, entwining her neurons with the wall. “Where do you lead?” She always gets the answers. She always understands where each piece fits. She understood how to build a reality without one day of formal schooling. 

The answer is always the brain. Kaira knows even inanimate objects have a small pulse, connections, feeling. Over 20 years on the run from getting hurt over and over again have taught her what strands to weave, what ways were the easiest to just slip inside  memories  change  what’s  real. 

“Xin” The wall pulses, even fainter because it’s made neurologically. An illusion--a shared illusion by all of humanity. “Xin will know.”

Great. It’ll be harder to keep the reality a secret now, but it must be done. Kaira whips to Xin, Xin’s eyebrow raised. “Where is No Man’s Land?” 

However far it is, they’ll make it. After all, they’re both women. 

⊙ ❖ ⊙ 

Xin definitely knew something was up when No Man’s Land was brought into the conversation. 

“Supervisor, don’t you live in No Man’s Land?” 

There was only a flicker of hesitation from the Supervisor’s side before she waved her hand dismissively. 

“No, no I never lived there. Main Office created a--cover, in case any rebels found out about my location. However, that means I don’t know how to get there, and to stop the rebels, we need to go.” 

It was convincing, but Xin was a detective. She decided not to pry what the Supervisor was hiding. A small part of Xin wanted to find the truth; that was what she couldn’t resist, her strength and weakness. Whatever the truth of the rebels was, she’d find out and accompany the Supervisor to No Man’s Land. 

As they walked down the hallway, Xin stopped, the Supervisor looking at her with piqued interest. 

“I know where to find the coordinates. You...probably don’t know because details were moved to a sanctioned compound. I stumbled upon the security there on one of my searches, and they entrusted me with the information.”

The Supervisor nodded, looking back at the hallway as if she were seeing through the walls. “Where?” 

“New York City--where the rebels are; the majority of them.” A brief pause. Xin chose her next words carefully; she was curious, but she didn’t want to get killed. “I know you said no questions, but they say that No Man’s Land has lots of high-tech weaponry systems controlling realities. If that’s true; if the rebels get their hands on that information--”

The Supervisor pursed her lips. “Yes. That’s why we need to get there first. And by the way, that wasn’t a question. That was a statement, Detective Xin.” 

Xin allowed the traces of a smile to appear on her face. To the NYC room, then. 

⊙ ❖ ⊙ 

They open the heavy, gilded doors to NYC, Kaira pushing at one side, Xin at the other. Xin could’ve probably done it by herself, though. Kaira’s been trying to understand Xin, define her, in a way. 

It turns out she’s one of those people who can’t be defined. So, she isn’t as one-dimensional as Kaira thought; she’s curious. 

When they step into Kaira’s code, she feels something like pride that everything looks so real, all made from humankind’s perception (the ones they create in their heads) attached to neural databases. Suddenly, she stumbles, realizing a very vital thing as cars zoom past, buildings reaching overhead. 

“This is a fake reality, so how do we get to the sanction?” 

Xin stares at Kaira. Kaira freezes. Has she done something wrong, blown her sort-of-cover? Then, Xin laughs, catching it before it blossoms freely into New York City. There are a few glitches here and there, but for a city heavily populated with minds it looks good to Kaira. 

A strong scent wafts through the air and Kaira scrunches her nose. Maybe she designed the human sense factor a bit too well. It’s been so long since she visited a standing city with skyscrapers, right? 

Kaira shifts her eyes to the glitches and sighs, remembering that she’s never been to an actual, standing city. 

“Supervisor, the reality may be fake but somehow the appliances still work! Let’s take a taxi.” 

. . .

Inside the musty building with its waxed floors, Kaira can’t see a thing. The lights are too dim. Upon entering, she thought she saw a couple of people around the back, but perhaps their paradise is somewhere here. 

Xin appears more alert, back stiff, bludgeon drawn. But she doesn’t understand that this is Kaira’s program. She did it. She doesn’t need to be alert. 

Snap. 

Fizzle. 

Crackle.

The lights go out completely, and Kaira grunts as an unseen force shoves her to the ground. Then the weapons come out. 

Wait! 

“They’re detectives! Get them!” 

They don’t wait. 

⊙ ❖ ⊙ 

Xin was going to chew out the Supervisor before the whole rebel attack occurred. She’d been wrong since the beginning; the way she acted was suspicious enough--but then the ambush came, throwing Xin off her guard. 

Ten, twenty rebels surrounding them, armed to the teeth with stolen weapons. 

How could there be this many? 

How did they break through the Supervisor’s foolproof system? 

Xin bashed the first two on the head, kicking them aside like putty. She quickly took care of the other two, but more kept coming. She could’ve taken them all and led them to their executions had it not been for the Supervisor. 

Xin locked eyes with the Supervisor, and that moment changed everything. The Supervisor was having a panic attack, eyes bulging, panting, her heartbeats visible through her chest. She was having a staring competition with a weapon of all things, flinching, yelling something like ‘no more'. 

Xin went down, pinned by the army of rebels, but Xin’s spite was only directed at one person. 

“Who are you?” Xin said to the Supervisor coldly. The rebels began binding their hands, still aiming their weapons. “Who are you?”