TheYearOfMyLifeVR.com Continuum Multiverse

Bringing You Up To Speed With The Continuum

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This episode should bring you up to speed. It's the end of the Continuum book titled 'TheYearOfMyLifeVR.com'. Yes, that is the actual name of the book. The story continues with the next episode. And now, back to the Continuum....

"I have one question." Victoria said, breaking the silence.

"What's that?"

"Who is Douglas Berlin?"

"Don't you know? I mean, we are on the same wavelength."

"I do not need to know all your secrets."

"I kinda figure that since you've already saved my life twice, I can trust you with all of my secrets."

"Trust is very important to humans, is it not?"

"Feelings of friendship and love just happen and that's good. But trust doesn't just happen, we earn trust."

"And that is important?"

"That is very important, my electric friend."

"Then I choose to trust you," she said, punctuating the statement with her trademark Mona Lisa smile. After a few seconds, she added "But names are not important."

"I think you're becoming more like me and I suspect that I'm becoming a little more like you. You and I make a pretty good team. You might actually decide that you like it here."

Victoria looked at me with an expression that said otherwise.

"Your head must have hit the floor a lot harder than you think," she said, as we both returned to watching the NASA feed.

I thought I saw a slight smile out of the corner of my eye as she murmured, "My hero."

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"My hero," Antonio said out loud as he removed the ear buds from his ears. He wondered what she meant by that. He pressed the stop button on the digital recorder nestled on the passenger bucket seat. For that matter, who was the woman? His research on the writer hadn't turned up a live-in girlfriend. That was only one of many questions he had about the conversation he had just overheard.

He reached over and unhooked the parabolic microphone from the passenger door frame, unplugged it from the recorder, and set it down on the passenger side floor. Then he picked up the recorder and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket. Always save something for a rainy day, he thought as he turned the ignition key. For what remained of this day, food and a status call to Sullivan would suffice. Antonio flipped on the left directional indicator, turned his head, and slowly pulled away from the curb.

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The Director of the Secret Service stared up at the screen in the conference room.

He had already watched the video of his agent leaving the lecture venue at the Mandalay Bay and heading to the bar with the handicapped writer. He knew what happened next, and he also knew that the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police had interviewed the writer. His agents had been monitoring everything since the murder.

It didn't make sense. There was nothing on Heskett's laptop hard drive that was worth dying for. All they had found were notes from the conference. They were similar to notes that would have been taken by dozens of other conference attendees.

The next view showed the writer exiting the bar. He stood there for a second and then the video switched to something unexpected, cats playing the piano!

"Is this a joke?" he said out loud as he turned to face the bewildered agents situated around the conference table.

After being assured that the video was authentic, he turned back to the screen.

"Bring me the writer and get this video down to forensics. Maybe they can discover what on Earth is going on?"

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Office of Planetary Protection - Earth Sciences Anomaly Department - Monitoring station of analyst Jennifer Ayers. She is looking over satellite photos of lightning over the United Kingdom. She picks up the phone and dials an extension.

"ESAD, Supervisor Johnson speaking"

"Ken, it's Jennifer Ayers."

"Hey, Jen. I thought I was the only one left without a social life on a Friday night.

What's up?"

"Something strange showed up in one of the sat trans over Wales. I'm sending it over to your station. Mind taking a look?"

A few seconds later, Ken said, "Got it. Looks like spider lightning to me."

"Spider lightning travels horizontally under stratiform clouds."

"Unexpected precipitation isn't too unusual for Wales this time of year."

"That's what I thought, but spider lightning usually forms under 6,000 feet. See that passenger jet in the photo?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"That's British Airways flight 245, on approach to Heathrow. It was flying at 8,300 feet when this picture was taken. The pilot reported the sighting to Heathrow tower."

"I'll admit that it's rare for spider lightning to be that high up, but it's not totally out of the question." Johnson said.

"Hang on, Ken. I'm sending you another photo. This one shows lightning at the exact same altitude, 94 minutes later. Place both photos side by side." There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

"They're identical... that's impossible. It's like having two identical snowflakes.

What the hell are we looking at?"

"I don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that it's not lightning."

"Agreed, Jen. I'll send these over to European OPP on Monday. Maybe their guys can shed some light on it." Johnson continued, "I'm done for the day and I think we could both use a beer. Let's take a walk over to Mahoney's."

"I'll meet you out front in five minutes."

It was dusk as Jennifer exited the building. Ken was staring at the sunset.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said jokingly.

"Just looking at station," Ken replied.

A lone, twinkling star sat seemingly motionless above the horizon.

"Have you ever wondered what it's like to be up there? I mean, away from everything." Ken said.

"It has to be pretty cool. Looking down on the Earth, all you can see is its beauty.

It's as if conflicts and wars don't even exist." She replied.

Ken looked at her. "Well, those of us looking up from Earth are getting pretty thirsty. Let's go get those beers."

As darkness fell, the International Space Station faded from view as it continued an endless journey in Earth orbit.

31,556,736

My rollercoaster ride with Victoria doesn't end here. She still wants me to help complete her mission. Now, I'll admit that it's nice to be wanted. I just wish it wasn't by the police, the Secret Service, an alien hunting space agency, and a hired killer.

The Writer