The room wasn’t too cold, which was a relief. When I got up to use the bathroom, I checked the thermostat—it read 72°F. Perfect for me. Back in Alabama, Dad kept it at 68°F year-round. In North Carolina, he adjusted it with the seasons: 79-84°F in autumn and winter, and 65-77°F in spring and summer, depending on the weather.
Living in Little Bird, though, was a whole different ball game. The country’s tropical monsoon climate means it rains non-stop from June 1st to June 21st. The downpour could reach up to 5 inches per hour, and in '81, it hit a record 470 inches over those 21 days while normally it’s 105 inches within those 21 days. Quite the contrast to my childhood homes.
At 6:50 AM, I rolled out of bed and opened the bedroom door, greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate chip waffles, sausage, and freshly brewed coffee. The night before, my mind had been buzzing with thoughts about Emily’s bachelorette party. Her female relatives had racked up a staggering 6,000 Little Bird Dollars bill. When I did the math, that translated to a jaw-dropping $44,200.52 in USD.
It got me thinking about the currency conversion and the cost of living here in Little Bird. The average income is 5,500 Little Bird Dollars, which equals $40,517.16 in USD. That’s quite a chunk of change. I paused to consider how much money that really is, especially since the priciest item on a restaurant menu here is a steak dinner for just $3.50, or $25.75 in US dollars. It’s fascinating how different the economies are.
Living in Little Bird has given me a deep appreciation for our unique economic system. Unlike many countries, our government can’t just print money whenever it wants because our currency is backed by gold. This prevents the kind of inflation that happens when money is backed only by trust and faith in the government, which can be easily manipulated.
The only times our currency isn’t widely used are during wars and crises, thanks to our rationing system. It’s a far cry from colonial times when the Little Bird Crow—our gold and silver coins—were backed by water.
I remember asking an economics professor at Arcane University why our currency is still backed by gold. He explained that it provides long-term price stability, prevents deficit spending, and forces the government to be more disciplined. He went on a passionate tirade about how printing money can lead to inflation. He also mentioned that the Little Bird Federal Reserve has a system where old currency is destroyed every seven years, and only the same amount is reprinted, maintaining a stable money supply.
Back in colonial times, the government didn’t have much experience with managing money. During recessions, they would shave down gold and silver coins to create more coins, which decreased their value. It’s fascinating to see how far we’ve come since then.
I remember how the same economist professor said how it forces the country's ability to wage war too and forces the country to have a balanced defense budget and well he said and I quote, “A gold standard puts limits on government power by restricting the ability to print money at will and increase the national debt.”
The professor also pointed out that, unlike the rest of the world, the Little Bird Dollar isn’t backed by the faith of the government. He explained that one major risk of fiat money is that governments can print too much of it, leading to hyperinflation.
When he mentioned Germany’s hyperinflation, I chimed in, noting that it was largely due to war reparations. The Reichsbank’s response was to print unlimited notes, which only sped up the devaluation of the mark. By 1923, banknotes had become so worthless that people used them as wallpaper.
Reflecting on that conversation, the professor did reassure me that our government employs financial experts to keep things running smoothly and maintain price stability. Sure, prices here in Little Bird fluctuate, but that’s normal everywhere. One day, three pounds of ground beef might cost 86 cents, and the next day it could drop to 70 cents or rise to a dollar. It’s just the nature of market dynamics.
I went downstairs to join Mitchell and Cadence for breakfast in which they’re still making it in which it’s not ready. But I just went over to the coffee pot that’s made of steel but it gently slopes inwards but it’s wide and unlike a glass coffee pot well the one that Mitchell and Cadence has well as said it’s made of steel and it can be used on a stove top to make coffee. My guess is that water is in the bottom and the coffee grounds are on the top and the heat makes the grounds come down into the water without the need for a filter.
I went over and got a coffee cup to pour the coffee in and it was steaming hot shows that it’s fresh.
As Mitchell started making the waffles, he began making whooshing sounds. I figured it was a habit from his time in the army. The Little Bird Military is unique in its variety of tanks. They have everything from regular main battle tanks to rocket launcher tanks, flamethrower tanks, and armored recovery vehicles.
The rocket launcher tanks, in particular, have a fascinating role. During the war, their primary purpose was to wreak havoc on large areas of enemy defenses. The sheer firepower they could unleash was designed to break through fortified positions and create chaos among enemy ranks. It’s quite a sight to imagine, and it makes you appreciate the strategic diversity of Little Bird’s military forces.
As I sat at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee and munching on a dinner roll, I overheard Mitchell and Cadence discussing plans for Star’s 39th birthday next year. Cadence was considering frozen appetizers for their convenience but wondered if they were cost-effective. Mitchell explained that while some frozen appetizers can be budget-friendly, it often makes more sense to do it yourself. Depends on the party.
He suggested that they should plan for guests to eat about five to eight pieces each and calculate the cost per piece to avoid any budget surprises or running out of food. For example, making a DIY veggie tray is much cheaper than buying pre-cut ones, which can cost around three bucks each. Similarly, homemade wraps are a great option. By buying turkey, lunch meat, and Swiss cheese, and using a bag of thirty soft tortilla shells, they could make about two hundred wraps once cut up.
Mitchell pointed out that many people go over budget because they rely on premade items, essentially paying for the convenience. Catering is another option, but it often leads to higher costs because people just want everything done for them. He emphasized the importance of sticking to a budget if they decide to throw a party for his mother-in-law.
Then, Mitchell mentioned he would call Sam’s father to check the cost of renting a spot for Star’s birthday party in 2011.
“Hey Mitchell, Cadence, if you don’t mind me saying,” I chimed in, “We’re related, even though Mitchell and I are cousins. But we’re the same when it comes to planning our shopping trips. I always plan what’s on sale and decide what I want for dinner, lunch, and breakfast. I’ve got a question, do you two track common items over a few weeks to see the prices go up and down? And when they’re at their lowest, do you buy in bulk because it’s cheaper?”
Cadence and Mitchell nodded, sharing that they do exactly that. Sometimes they wait until prices drop before stocking up, ensuring they get the best deals.
Cadence shared that she took home economics, and her teachers had some great advice. They emphasized that it’s better to buy items when they’re at their lowest price. Around holidays, grocery stores often have signs at the entrances highlighting what’s on sale for that holiday, along with the total price for all those items.
Her teachers also stressed the importance of comparing prices to save money. They advised against buying packaged veggies because you’re essentially paying extra for the convenience of someone slicing it up for them. Instead, it’s more cost-effective to buy whole veggies, wash, and slice them yourself. The same goes for meats—unsliced versions are almost always cheaper than pre-sliced ones. Additionally, they recommended opting for frozen foods over fresh ones, as fresh foods tend to be more expensive. Cadence said how she’s not a fan of pre-sliced meat because of how people like different cut slices like thicker or thinner slices.
Mitchell said it started with his mother. Every Saturday, she would arrive at the store at 7 AM sharp and wouldn’t leave until 3 PM. She treated it like a treasure hunt, spending those eight hours scouring for the cheapest deals and planning the week’s dinners based on what was on sale. Then came his mother-in-law, just like her, treating the store like a battlefield where every penny saved was a victory.
Shopping with Star, on the other hand, was a completely different experience. Star always had a clipboard with a meticulously detailed list, complete with the aisles where each item could be found.
Here in Little Bird, without the internet, people still rely on Sunday papers and the like to get their coupons. Those who took home economics in school were taught how to shop strategically, not just throw random items into the cart. Schools here drill into students the importance of discerning right from wrong and making decisions based on personal values rather than blindly following a team.
In history classes, they emphasize the dangers of blindly following a group without questioning. They talk about the September Conspiracy and the July 20 plot, events that happened when people got tired of their team and decided to take action and overthrow their government or leader. They teach us that when dissent finally occurs, it’s often too late because so many remain loyal to their faction, ignoring the truth.
Mitchell’s stories about Little Bird’s presidents were equally fascinating. His father, for example, didn’t stick to one political party for too long. Whenever a party lost sight of its principles, he’d move on to another. From 1968 to 2010, he navigated through various parties like the Militarists, Loyalists, and Nationalists. Mitchell explained that Little Bird’s political landscape included parties like the Capitalists, Industrialists, Intellectuals, Globalists, and Environmentalists.
The Loyalists were especially interesting—they were fiercely loyal to their country and kept a vigilant eye on the military. Back in 1946, there was a major clash when many military officers opposed the government's decision to offer refuge to Italian and German scientists and soldiers who weren’t war criminals. These mutineers captured a research facility containing terrifying tech like single-stage ballistic missiles with atomic warheads.
"I know how they do it," Mitchell said confidently.
"Do what?" I asked, curious.
"When companies run promotions, they want people to keep buying and buying to try to win. Most people stick to buying the common and popular flavors, ignoring the unpopular ones," Mitchell explained. "It's a common trick. Companies know people will keep buying the popular flavors, so they place the winning parts in the unpopular, poor-selling ones. Only after a while do people start to realize that the lesser-known flavors hold the key to winning."
It was a clever strategy and it made perfect sense. The companies created a game where people’s habits worked against them, making them spend more money chasing the most obvious choices while the real prizes were hidden in plain sight.
“Guess the military has done some intellect on your brain, Mitchell,” I said with a smirk.
Mitchell chuckled, “The Little Bird Military has two main strategies: ‘divide and conquer’ and ‘death from above.’ The latter involves using Paratroopers, Paramarines, Marine commandos, Army Rangers, or Naval Tridents to launch surprise attacks behind enemy lines. They set up hidden bases close to the enemy, using stealth aircraft and maintaining radio silence. These bases allow troops to paradrop right onto the enemy’s position, catching them off guard. The NCOs and Officers are highly motivated, inspiring their troops to fight fiercely, no matter the odds.
The ‘divide and conquer’ tactic is all about misleading the enemy. Officers devise fake-out plans to shift the enemy’s focus. If the enemy has a strong central defense but weaker flanks, they’ll launch a fake offensive in one area, drawing the enemy’s attention and resources. Once the enemy takes the bait, the real offensive strikes from the opposite flank, catching them off guard and effectively reversing the balance of power.”
As the waffles and sausages were cooking, I decided to ask Mitchell about the ‘46 mutiny. Mitchell explained that in response to the Great Mutiny of 1946, President Abigail Orange, the second female president of Little Bird, faced an incredibly tough decision. She issued an ultimatum to the loyalist forces. Either launch a pre-emptive strike against the mutineers or risk the mutineers using their captured atomic warheads to devastate half the country.
The loyalist forces, comprising the Little Bird 1st Army and the Little Bird 2nd Army, were mobilized for this critical mission. The 1st Army included:
- 12 Infantry Divisions: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th
- 2 Armored Divisions: 1st and 2nd
- 12 Mechanized Cavalry Divisions: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th
This force totaled 480,000 troops: 220,000 infantrymen, 40,000 tankers, and 220,000 mechanized cavalry.
The 2nd Army included:
- 9 Infantry Divisions: 14th, 15th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd
- 2 Armored Divisions: 3rd and 4th
- 12 Cavalry Riflemen Divisions: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 14th, 15th
This force totaled 460,000 troops: 420,000 infantrymen and 40,000 tankers.
Both armies were supported by:
- 516 artillery guns
- 1,032 anti-tank guns
- 12,000 tanks across the four armored divisions
The combined might of these forces, totaling 940,000 troops, was a formidable response to the mutineers. The pre-emptive strike was launched with precision, targeting the Eagle’s Nest Research Facility to neutralize the threat. The mutineers, despite their fierce opposition, were significantly outmatched. They had a modest force of 5,500 soldiers, 65 heavy guns, and seven outdated light tanks from the early stages of the war. These tanks had become obsolete by 1942-43 with the introduction of heavier Panzer IVs and Tiger Is.
Blocking their retreat was the formidable First Marine Army, consisting of:
- 9 Marine Divisions: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th
- 10th Marine Regiment
This force totaled 165,500 Marines, supported by:
- 120 artillery guns and rocket artillery
- 2,000 tanks
- 120 anti-tank guns
The mutineers' only escape route was to marshlands, a terrain where the Little Bird Marine Corps excelled due to its training in amphibious landings and marshland combat. The loyalist forces' strategic positioning ensured that the mutineers were effectively trapped, with no viable means of retreat.
The combination of overwhelming force and strategic advantage allowed the loyalist forces to swiftly neutralize the mutineers, securing the Eagle’s Nest Research Facility and preventing any further threat to the nation. This decisive action not only restored order but also demonstrated the strength and preparedness of Little Bird’s military. The loyalist forces were strategically positioned in camps named after historic battles, reflecting their readiness and resolve:
- Camp Thermopylae: Home to the First Army, symbolizing the legendary stand of the Spartans.
- Camp Alamo: Base for the Second Army, evoking the spirit of the defenders at the Alamo.
- Camp Nelson: The First Marine Army’s camp, named to honor a colonial-era Little Bird military camp that changed hands between Little Bird Army and Marines and the country of Blister Canyon during the Little Bird-Blister Canyon war of 1700-1705.Before it was razed to the ground by the Little Bird Marines as a final “fuck you” to the country and military of Blister Canyon
These camps served as the staging grounds for the loyalist forces’ decisive actions during the Great Mutiny of 1946. The historical significance of the names underscored the gravity of the situation and the determination of the loyalist troops to protect their nation.
Mitchell also mentioned that the research facility created a couple of super heavy tanks at the beginning of the war. These tanks were hybrid vehicles, somewhere between a tank and a tank destroyer. Originally designed to breach static defenses like the Siegfried Line, their powerful 105mm smoothbore gun could be loaded with either AT (Anti-Tank) or HE (High-Explosive) shells, making quick work of any kind of armor, buildings, or concentration of troops. The super heavy tanks could sustain many hits thanks to their thick armor but lacked a turret and couldn’t fire while moving. They were later remodeled to include a turret, allowing them to face German tanks like the Tiger I, Tiger II, and tank destroyers like the Jagdtiger, or Soviet heavy tanks like the IS-2 or IS-3.
I was not expecting a history lesson at 6:55 AM.
Emily soon joined us, still in her pajamas, and asked what we were talking about. We all had different answers; Cadence said “family,” Mitchell said “history,” and I said “both.” Emily got herself a cup of coffee and sat down with me at the table.
“You three should’ve seen James’s mom and stepdad,” Emily started. “Once they found out that James and I got married, they hounded us to redo the wedding, even offering to pay for it or have a private ceremony because they missed it. My entire family was the same, minus wanting us to redo the marriage. When my parents found out, they crashed the wedding, saying how ungrateful I was for not inviting anyone from my side of the family.”
I replied, “If people don’t invite someone to an event like a wedding, there’s usually a reason behind it.”
Emily sighed, “My family makes those strict religious cults look better. Seriously, they don’t practice what they preach. They want James and me to take in my niece, her lazy deadbeat boyfriend, and their eight kids because their starter apartment is cramped. Well, no duh it’s cramped! Those apartments are for people just starting out, not for families with eight kids. They’re meant for 18-20-year-olds to save up for a down payment on a house or a bigger apartment. But my family tries to gaslight and manipulate me into taking them in because our apartment is more spacious. When I suggest they take in my niece, her boyfriend, and their kids, they either stutter or hang up the phone. James lets me handle it because he has a few choice words that would make even a thick-skinned person cry.”
I replied, “Let me guess, he wants to tell your family it’s not your duty to take care of your niece, her boyfriend who fakes a disability, and their eight kids because they made poor life choices?”
“He says he’s got half a book of things he wants to say, and 97% of it isn’t positive,” Emily said.
Mitchell chimed in, “There are people with actual disabilities who work like everyone else unless their disability is so severe they can’t. They don’t use their disability as an excuse because they don’t want sympathy; it’s just life to them. People like Emily’s niece’s boyfriend want others to feel sorry for them because the army labeled him 4F for not being able to walk straight. He can walk, just not in the way the army requires, so he blows it out of proportion.”
“Does he get money from the State or Government for his disability?” Cadence asked.
Emily sighed, “He just sits at home all day watching TV and eating. He doesn’t clean or do dishes. When my niece gets home from her job, he points out the full sink, and she ends up doing the dishes after an exhausting day. She works in the administrative wing of a place that handles special needs and troubled kids, and the paperwork is draining. They have to go to the store every day because he eats most of the food. He refuses to look for a job, claiming he’s too disabled because the Army 4F’d him for not walking straight, even though he can walk. They rely on food stamps, but 40% of their grocery bill goes to snacks, 50% to meals, and 10% to beverages. He eats more than their four kids who are in elementary school.”
Mitchell chuckled, “A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”
“If my dad met him, he’d give him an earful,” I said. “He’d point out that there are people with real disabilities who need help, like those in wheelchairs or on crutches. He’d tell him that if he’s going to sit at home all day, he should at least do the dishes, sweep, mop, and vacuum. Sure, here in Little Bird families can live on a single income, but the other partner should handle domestic chores so the place isn’t a pigsty. My dad would be speaking from experience because his first wife, my mom, was the same—sitting at home all day doing nothing.”
Emily went on a tirade, “That will never happen. There’s a bus stop right in front of their apartment building, and their apartment is on the ground floor, so it’s not that hard. The newspaper’s job section lists jobs with qualifications, hours, pay, and contact numbers. Most of these jobs don’t require many qualifications, and 98% don’t need advanced education. They’re usually 8-4 or 9-5 jobs that pay well. You can call up and ask for an interview. The worst they can do is say no, but they’ll find a time to meet and give a courtesy call to let you know if you got the job or not. They’re not going to pull the ‘oh you need experience’ card unless if said job position requires experience like a sales manager needs some experience in sales but it’s not crazy like wanting an eighteen year old needing 20+ years of experience usually a couple of years but it’s pointed and directed at people who have done that job at a lower position to try and get them an advanced position.”
“That’s sad,” I said. “But from what I read in the newspaper, companies and people do take out ads looking for workers or offering short-term jobs, like helping others move. People are willing to pay for these ads because it’s better than nothing. Small businesses use newspapers to advertise their jobs, listing their number and address so people can call or show up to get a paper application.”
Emily sighed, “My family is so messed up. Some of my female relatives claim James cheated on me with them, but that’s absurd. He’s on an Air Force Base for eleven months out of the year and only leaves once to be with me. Plus, he wears a purity ring and never had sex like those people who save their virginity until they get married. James and I hate it when we give people love and affection, and they throw it back in our faces. I’m a cynic who sees the world as a place where bad things happen, while James believes ‘everything happens for a reason.’ When his father died testing an experimental aircraft, he saw it as the universe’s way of revealing his mother’s true nature. She remarried within two weeks of his father’s death, and it turned out she was cheating on him with her boss.”
Emily continued, “James’s stepdad hated him because he wasn’t his kid, and his mother called him ‘a mistake from her previous relationship.’ They tried to change his legal name to his stepdad’s, but he always refused. Even when they did change it legally, he kept signing his name after his father, who spent a lot of time with him. His father was a military man who, despite his busy schedule, always made time for James. He taught him not to charge into things headfirst, saying that people with a hero complex can cause more harm than good. Just because you do a good act now doesn’t mean it’ll have a good effect. Like if a person runs into a burning building to save someone that’s seen as both honorable and stupid because it’s great to help others. But at the same time you can become a victim yourself or while trying to save someone you can get hurt or take a route where the person you’re trying to save can get hurt by the heat or fire and how there is a group of people called ‘firefighters’ who do this for a living,”
Emily laughed, “Some of my male relatives thought James could prevent their adult sons from joining the military. The joke’s on them because James was a Senior Airman and now he’s a Senior Master Sergeant in the 96th Fighter Squadron, 32nd Multirole Fighter Wing. Not a high ranking military official like a Lieutenant General or a Brigadier General.”
She continued, “It’s so hypocritical. James’s mom and stepdad called him a troubled child, but no duh! They forced him to live a life he didn’t like without trying to understand why. Instead of understanding, they just pushed harder. They don’t get that everyone processes things differently. James’s teachers and school counselors were more understanding. They knew nobody just moves on after their spouse dies, especially not within two weeks like his mom did.”
Emily wrapped up by sharing how James 4 found his father’s journal a decade later. His father knew his wife was cheating on him with her boss and had changed his life insurance policy for a bigger payout. So, he got the last laugh by changing his life insurance and military life insurance to benefit James 4. This meant James 4 received $10,000 from the Air Force and another $17,000 from life insurance. His mother had expected to get $27,000 ($198,902.43 USD in 2010) but got nothing. His father had planned this without any signs, except for spending more and more time with James 4, taking him to throw a football or baseball around, camping, hiking, and encouraging him to try new things like sports.
Cadence laughed at how James 4’s mom was expecting the money but got nothing. James 4 had to wait until he turned eighteen to get the checks. His mother and stepdad tried to sweet-talk him into giving them the money, but he told them to drop the act. They had treated him like dirt his entire life and were only being nice because he had money. They even used his step-siblings to tug at his heartstrings, but he wasn’t buying it. His mom and stepdad wanted to look acceptable to their friend circles, presenting themselves as the best parents in the world. They were like actors in a stage play, exiting stage left when their role was done.
Emily said that’s why she thinks James 4’s mom and stepdad want them to redo the wedding—to look good to their upper-class friends. But she and James 4 always say no because they believe weddings should be magical and special, not something to be redone just because terrible people weren’t invited the first time.
Emily then mentioned how James 4 always jokes about his stepfather’s terrible cooking. I was tempted to say it reminded me of Sims with low cooking stats, but I kept my mouth shut.
Mitchell went to check on the waffles, pulling them out of the oven and plating them.
“So, James’s mom and stepdad wanted you two to redo your wedding?” I asked.
Emily nodded, “Yup, they offered to cover all expenses and even wrote us a $7,000 check for the wedding or a down payment for the church or venue, catering, and photographer. But James and I cashed the check and used the money to renovate his apartment. We got the landlord’s approval and repainted the walls, replaced the Mahogany hardwood floors with Hickory, and put tiles in the kitchen and bathroom. His mom and stepdad tried to sue us, but the check didn’t specify it was for the wedding. It was written ‘For good faith,’ which can be used for anything, like donations to a church or the Fire or Police Departments. Any leftover money went to an environmental group to save the ice caps and polar bears.”
I chuckled. “That’s their fault. If the check was meant for the wedding, they should’ve specified. I would’ve done the same thing. But Emily, you said your in-laws can keep pushing, but you won’t redo the wedding?”
Emily sighed, “Exactly. My parents, on the other hand, keep setting me up with random men and planning weddings. I go along with it but never show up. Here in Little Bird, if you cancel an event within 24 hours, you get 25-75% of your money back. On the day of, you get nothing. So, I let them plan and spend money, then I don’t show up. It’s my way of making a point. They spend all that money, and the bride doesn’t show, leaving the groom at the altar. It’s a reverse of the groom leaving the bride.”
Mitchell handed us two blue ceramic plates with waffles and sausage, complete with forks and knives. He then went back to get his own plate and joined us at the table with Cadence. We continued talking about family, and Emily had nothing positive to say about hers. She mentioned that her family, much like James 4’s mom and stepdad, would leave if put in an awkward position, only to return once things had calmed down.
Cadence and Mitchell speculated that James 4’s mom and stepdad were trying to sneak back into their lives because they saw Emily and James as a source of grandbabies. They were more interested in protecting their image and reputation than genuinely caring about their kids.
Mitchell asked if Emily had family members who owned businesses but ran them into the ground by being morons. Emily nodded and, after swallowing a piece of waffle, explained that some of her relatives had businesses but ruined them by showing up drunk or hungover to meetings with high-paying clients or by having female family members flirt with clients. This often led to clients pulling out of deals because they saw them as untrustworthy. Also it was unprofessional.
Emily continued, “Some of my male relatives in the design business would take someone else’s work and present it as their own, or praise one gender while putting down the other. In fields like architecture, no one likes it when their boss takes credit for their drawings or gives promotions based on gender. Those who were sexist against females saw a mass exodus of employees who went to work for competitors who recognized their worth. Clients can tell the difference between a detailed blueprint and one that looks like it would blow away in a 1 MPH wind.”
Cadence remarked that it fits them perfectly—being arrogant and hostile, not liking one over the other, and then losing those talented individuals to competitors who appreciate their work. Emily added that in the State of Starfish, there are no non-compete laws, so employees can leave one employer and work for another in the same industry without any restrictions.
We all found it amusing that people who are disliked or mistreated leave to work for competitors who recognize their worth. As they say, one mistake can be your downfall. Mitchell commented that if these people were military officers, they would’ve been killed either by the enemy or fragged by their own troops. He noted that while many Little Bird military officers are fanatics who inspire their troops to fight to the death, soldiers prefer such officers over those who are tactically inflexible, glory-hungry, ambitious, and unable to take responsibility for their actions. Officers who demand salutes in no-salute areas, risking sniper fire, and insist on orders being followed to the letter regardless of the situation are a major no-no. Mitchell and I agreed that such rigidity removes personal initiative, which is crucial in the military.
We finished breakfast in peace and quiet, then put the dishes in the sink. Mitchell gave us a ride to the train station. On the way, Emily asked him about the weirdest thing that happened to him on patrol. Mitchell shared a story about pulling over their boss’s daughter. He and his partner, Starlight, usually saw traffic tickets as a scam for the local government to make money, so he was just going to give her a warning. But when she offered Mitchell a blowjob in order to get out of a traffic ticket, it earned her a ticket instead. Mitchell said that if she kept her mouth shut for another twenty seconds she would’ve gotten nothing but a verbal warning.
Mitchell dropped us off at the town train station. I bought a one-way ticket to the City of Empire and grabbed a newspaper to read on the train ride home. Emily bought a one-way ticket to Ft. Suction. I boarded the train, found a seat, and settled in. The train had a radio system that played news from across the Commonwealth of Mountain.
As I sat on the train, flipping through the newspaper and listening to the news, I couldn’t help but notice the increasing chatter about businesses shutting down. The Commonwealth of Mountain and our own Government of Little Bird aren’t stepping in to help, which might seem harsh at first glance. However, there’s a deeper reason behind this decision. Financial experts in Little Bird caution that subsidies can distort markets. When the government injects money into a specific industry, it allows those businesses to lower their prices, making it difficult for competitors to keep up. While the intention behind subsidies is to keep prices low and boost production, they can inadvertently drive competitors out of the market.
I recall a conversation with an economics professor at Arcane University who shed light on this concept. He explained that government subsidies can stifle competition. He cited an example from the early 1920s when Little Bird faced a severe drought. To ensure bread production, the government subsidized wheat farming. This led farmers to focus solely on wheat, causing other crops to wither away. As a result, there was a shortage of other crops, prompting people to buy seeds from flower stores to grow their own in their backyards. The government eventually incentivized the growth of other crops, but only temporarily until the start of the Second World War when the government needed every penny to train troops, pay said troops and to fund the war effort. So only money that the farmers were getting were from the government to send food to the soldiers and from the stores to pay said farmers.
The professor also shared a historical anecdote from British-ruled India. To control the cobra population, the British offered a bounty for each dead cobra. People began breeding cobras to turn them in for money. When the British stopped the payments, the cobra problem worsened as the cobras were released. This unintended consequence highlighted how well-meaning policies can backfire.
These examples underscore the complexities of government intervention in the economy. While subsidies might offer short-term relief, they can lead to long-term market distortions and unintended consequences. It’s a delicate balance that requires careful consideration and strategic planning.
As I continued reading the newspaper and overhearing the news on the train, I couldn’t help but notice a woman nearby loudly voicing her opinions. She was going on about how the minimum wage in Little Bird should be raised to ten dollars an hour, despite the fact that it hasn’t changed since 1960. Her constant criticism was starting to grate on my nerves.
Eventually, I couldn’t hold back any longer and told her to quiet down. I pointed out that in many parts of the world, people wouldn’t even understand the concept of civil liberties and rights. For them, poverty isn’t just an issue—it’s a way of life. I reminded her that dissatisfaction isn’t new. Many of my grand uncles, for instance, grew up during the 1930s and witnessed people lining up for jobs or seeing quarantine signs on neighbors’ doors due to scarlet fever, whooping cough, diphtheria, or polio. We’re much more educated and healthier now than previous generations.
I also told her that the modern generation’s desire for quick fixes to complex problems is part of the issue. Thousands of people die in car accidents globally, and there are no instant solutions to such tragedies. Since the baby boomers, each generation has grown up with instant communication, entertainment, transportation, and financial transactions. While every generation has had its challenges, they learned to live with them and often pushed back against their parents’ ways of governance.
In the end, I hoped she understood that while it’s easy to criticize, it’s much harder to appreciate the progress we’ve made and the complexities of the issues we face.
As I continued reading the newspaper and overhearing the news, I couldn't help but think about how people in the 1800s tackled transportation challenges. Back then, log rafts were the primary means of navigating rivers. To speed up travel, inventors developed paddle steamer boats, which revolutionized river transport. These steam-powered vessels allowed for faster and more efficient movement up and down rivers, leading to the growth of towns and cities along these waterways.
The development of paddle steamers wasn't the only innovation. Bridges also played a crucial role in improving transportation. In the early 19th century, the construction of bridges across rivers allowed people to travel by horseback or horse and buggy, bypassing the need for multiple boat rides. This advancement made travel quicker and more convenient, fostering economic growth and connectivity.
Bridges have been around since ancient times, with early humans using simple log structures to cross rivers. However, the 1800s saw significant advancements in bridge technology, particularly with the introduction of iron and steel, which provided greater strength and durability.
I remember a conversation with an economics professor at Arcane University that really opened my eyes. He explained how government subsidies can actually stifle competition. He gave an example from the early 1920s when Little Bird faced a severe drought. To ensure bread production, the government subsidized wheat farming. This led farmers to focus solely on wheat, causing other crops to wither away. As a result, there was a shortage of other crops, prompting people to buy seeds from flower stores to grow their own in their backyards. The government eventually incentivized the growth of other crops, but only temporarily until the start of the Second World War when every penny was needed to train and pay troops and fund the war effort. During that time, farmers received money from the government to send food to soldiers and from stores to pay for their produce.
Reflecting on my time at Arcane University, I realized how different the teaching approach was compared to my experience in America. Back in the States, many of my teachers discouraged free thinking, insisting that their way was the only correct way. At Arcane University, however, students were encouraged to find their own methods to solve problems. For instance, in math classes, while I preferred writing down numbers and using basic operations, my classmates had various approaches, such as using square roots, geometry, algebra, or calculus. This diversity in problem-solving methods highlighted how different people think and learn in unique ways.
Each person has their own way of arriving at answers. For me, I would write the number down, add the operation sign, and then the next number, drawing a line to solve it step by step. I was taught that smaller numbers can be added to bigger ones, but not the other way around. My classmates, on the other hand, had their own techniques that worked for them. This experience showed me the value of encouraging different ways of thinking and problem-solving, something that was often stifled in my earlier education.
Here’s how I write my math problems:
82
+ 12
____
94
This straightforward method works for me, but I appreciate how Little Bird’s education system encourages different approaches to reach the same answer. Schools here start with basic math concepts like 2+2 and 4x9, ensuring a strong foundation before moving on to more advanced topics. Studies have shown that this method has a lasting impact on students’ understanding and retention of mathematical concepts.
Little Bird’s approach to education is thoughtful and progressive. They don’t just throw students into advanced classes like Algebra 1, Algebra 2, or Calculus without ensuring they have a solid grasp of basic math and Pre-Algebra. It’s like expecting a non-swimmer to dive into the deep end of a pool—it’s bound to have negative effects.
My girlfriend’s kids, who are in 5th and 6th grades, are still learning basic math like 1+1=2. According to her, the school curriculum in elementary school includes Writing, Basic Math, Art, Reading, Social Studies, and Physical Education. As they move into middle and high school, the subjects expand to include Writing/English, Arithmetic, Art, Science, World History, Shop or Home Economics, and Physical Education.
This comprehensive and gradual approach ensures that students build a strong foundation before tackling more complex subjects, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for learning.
I appreciate how in Little Bird, sex education is primarily reserved for those pursuing medical careers, particularly in pediatric care. This approach stems from the belief that sex education is an “adult topic” and remains somewhat taboo. My girlfriend shared that when she was younger and asked her parents where babies come from, they simply told her, “You’ll find out when you’re older.” This was a common response from neighbors and others in the Eastside district as well.
In Little Bird, teachers are given the freedom to teach their subjects in ways that encourage students to discover things for themselves and foster creativity. History teachers, for example, present both sides of conflicts, providing a more balanced perspective. This approach contrasts sharply with my experience in America, where teachers often enforced a single way of thinking.
The education system in Little Bird hasn’t changed much since the Cold War and the Space Race. There was a recognition that not everyone would become rocket scientists. Advanced subjects like rocket science and higher mathematics are reserved for college, ensuring that students first master basic concepts. My girlfriend likens the education system here to a snowball. You start small, learning foundational skills, and gradually build up to more complex topics.
Economics is a great example of this approach. While not inherently a branch of mathematics, economics relies heavily on mathematical concepts like differential and integral calculus, matrix algebra, and other computational methods. These tools allow economists to develop meaningful, testable propositions about complex subjects, which would be difficult to express without a solid mathematical foundation.
This methodical and progressive approach to education ensures that students are well-prepared for advanced studies and can think critically and creatively about the problems they encounter.
In older times, goods were often distributed via barter, but for most of the last several thousand years, money has been the primary medium of exchange. When I was at Arcane University, I delved into modern economics, which dates back to 1776. That year, Scottish philosopher Adam Smith published his seminal work, “The Wealth of Nations.” In this book, Smith argues that the free market is the most efficient means of assigning values to and distributing goods and services.
Smith contended that a totally free market would automatically produce the right amount of goods at the right price. He believed that any government interference or regulation distorts the market, making it less efficient and more wasteful. Smith was also a strong proponent of self-interest, arguing that when individuals pursue their own self-interest, they inadvertently promote the good of society as a whole. In essence, Smith believed that pure capitalism is the best economic system available to a civilization.
This perspective has had a profound impact on economic thought and policy. It underscores the importance of allowing markets to operate freely, without excessive government intervention, to achieve optimal outcomes for society.
Honestly, that book was a real page-turner. But for now, the newspaper is the closest thing I have to read. I’m saving the best part for last—the comic section. I just finished going through the rest of it, catching up on the current status of the world, sports updates on which teams won or lost, and everything in between. Most of it was about town events, and the classifieds were filled with people selling things they no longer need, like vehicles they’ve replaced with new ones.
I’ve also overheard some interesting conversations. Some folks are excited about going on family vacations with their extended families, as long as they’re not roped into babysitting duties that ruin their own vacation while everyone else gets to relax. Some said how they stopped going on road trips and camping trips with their extended families because they always end up being the ones to watch the kids, unload vehicles, and set things up while everyone else sits around doing nothing or goes off to enjoy themselves.
Others were talking about how they’re fed up with the “keep the peace” mentality that sacrifices them to placate their relatives. They said that wanting to keep the peace is just a way to make someone suffer in silence because no one wants to deal with the real issues.
Some others mentioned how they have family members who decided to become stay-at-home parents. While they respect that choice, they believe stay-at-home parents shouldn’t feel entitled to “a break” because they chose that lifestyle. They chose to stay at home, do domestic chores, and raise the kids, so they should have understood the responsibilities that come with it.
Aunts and uncles also shared their frustrations about siblings who expect them to be free babysitters, using the “But they’re your nephews/nieces!” excuse. These folks are quick to respond with, “They are your children!” They believe it’s unfair to force someone to babysit just because the parents want a break. Some even talked about how they’ve had to confront their manipulative family members, essentially saying, “For the love of God, stop. We can’t take the retaliation.”
Others love their stupid family members because they said, “If my family stops giving me ammunition then I won’t have nothing to say to others” then their family does something stupid or narcissistic to give them said ammo. Some said how they got siblings who treat them like a slave or a butler instead of compensating them for their time.
To me, if someone is going to babysit someone else’s kids, then it’s polite and courteous to compensate them for their time. Leaving some money for food is one thing, but actually paying them per hour or for the overall time they watched the kids should be standard. Not just playing the “We’re family” card. I can’t stand people who ask their friends and family for help in their time of need, promise to pay them back, and then never do.
I really dislike when people choose to be stay-at-home parents but then complain about how hard it is to feed all their kids on just one salary. Well, no duh—one person working to support eleven kids is going to struggle. Even when others point out that they’re not really friends, and show evidence of how they’ve never helped back after receiving help, it’s clear they’ve just taken advantage of others’ generosity. They’re nothing but parasites.
It’s frustrating to see people not taking responsibility for their choices and expecting others to pick up the slack. Everyone has their own challenges, and it’s important to respect each other’s time and effort. If you need help, be honest about it and make sure to show appreciation and reciprocate when you can. That’s how you build genuine, supportive relationships.
Some other people are talking about how glad they are to be out of a war economy because things were more expensive during crises and war. The government of Little Bird had two options to raise funds for wars or humanitarian aid: raise taxes, which nobody likes, or engage the public through creative means like three-way baseball games or using actors and actresses to raise funds and encourage people to buy war bonds. Many are relieved that factories have reverted back to making consumer goods. For instance, a factory that once made computers and typewriters was converted to manufacture precision munitions, car factories were transformed to make military vehicles, refrigerator factories were repurposed to produce ammo, and even factories making baseball bats for both little league and major league baseball were converted to produce plastic explosives.
Back in 1940, the Commonwealth of Mountain, where I live, saw a significant population increase due to many people moving to work in factories because of the global tensions at the time. Many also left the cities to work in agricultural centers. The Commonwealth I live in saw a 40% population increase, the Commonwealth of Cascade saw a 51% increase, and the Commonwealths of Starfish and Blueberry saw a 49% increase. This was because the Little Bird War Production Board designated which Commonwealths had the types of jobs that could support the war effort, from working in defense factories making tanks and planes to other essential roles. It felt like God picked up the country and shook it like stove-made popcorn, like Jiffy Pop.
During the war, the country produced an astounding 41 billion rounds of ammo, 100,000 tanks, 300,000 aircraft, 20 million small arms, and 4 million mechanized and motorized vehicles.
Of course from what I know from Little Bird Military History is that the air forces is that they didn’t take their defense of their bombers seriously because well the Little Bird Air Force, Army Air Force, Marine Air Corps and Naval Aviation were taught in both World Wars is that fighter pilots were trained to shoot down bombers by going for the engines to make it easier or to go for the gunners on said bombers leaving them utterly defenseless.
I just listened to some other conversations that were quite interesting. Some folks were talking about how they lost money on last night’s baseball game. They had placed bets on which team would win, who would have the best pitch, or which team would hit the most home runs, and unfortunately, things didn’t go their way.
Others were discussing their strained relationships with their in-laws. One woman shared how her in-laws, who had always disliked her, suddenly became nice when she found out she was pregnant. However, after the baby was born, her husband gave their baby to an infertile couple without her consent. Here in Little Bird, it’s a crime if both parents don’t sign off on such a decision. If one parent signs away their parental rights but the other doesn’t, it counts as human trafficking. Both parents must sign away their rights through the courts or a family lawyer. If only one parent does and gives away the child, they can be charged with human trafficking and kidnapping.
The woman said the police were lucky to retrieve her baby because she reported the child as stolen. Since she didn’t know about the arrangement, it was considered a crime. The town’s prosecutor charged those involved with bribing a medical official, human trafficking, kidnapping, medical malpractice, lying on a medical form, and lying about the welfare of a newborn. Needless to say, they’re not very popular with the maximum-security prisoners now. Most likely a pin cushion for shivs.
I knew this was going to be a long train ride—covering 560 miles with four stops in Cozy, Arourafall, Midnight Cove, and Sunset Vale before finally reaching the city of Empire. It’s going to take about seven hours.
Some folks were talking about how they helped a family member or friend through a divorce because their spouse crossed an unforgivable line. They shared stories of spouses who, when faced with divorce, would get angry and demand their soon-to-be ex to take it back, thinking it was a joke or that they wouldn’t actually leave. It’s baffling how some people can’t comprehend the seriousness of the situation. I’ve heard of spouses threatening divorce just to scare the other, but never intending to follow through, holding onto their pride as if it’s more important than their marriage.
Others mentioned how their friends or family members ended up marrying people who treat their marriage like a game, more interested in boosting their own egos than in building a genuine partnership. It’s sad to see relationships where one person’s pride and need for control overshadow the love and respect that should be at the core of a marriage.
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One important page I read mentioned that Madeline Azure and the guy she was telling me about the other day got married. The papers even said that Madeline is now the full owner of her family restaurant. It also described how grand the wedding was, combining two restaurants—one private, which Madeline is from, and one public, which her husband is from.
Looks like Madeline went with my plan, agreeing to marry the guy if her parents would come to the negotiation table, retire, and hand over the reins of the family business to her. Smart move on her part! She’s probably getting the marriage annulled at this moment.
But as I continued to read the newspaper and overhear other people’s conversations, I found myself lost in my own thoughts. I remembered my time at Arcane University studying fire science. My classmates and I were randomly assigned to shadow three different firehouses for either twenty-four or seventy-two hours overall. The officers at the companies I shadowed were adamant about the importance of following orders. They emphasized that in firefighting, there are no second chances. This is why firefighters must listen to their officers, who have the experience and authority to direct rescue operations and firefighting efforts.
Different emergencies require different specialties. For example, an Engine company deals with fires but only has manual tools and medical gear. A Truck company handles situations an Engine company can’t, like car accidents, and performs forcible entry, search and rescue, ventilation, and ladder-pipe operations. If a Truck company can’t handle it, a Squad Company is called out. They can operate as either an Engine or Truck company but with half the tools of a Rescue Squad. If a Squad Company can’t manage the situation, it’s passed on to a Rescue Company. Beyond that, there’s no one else to call unless it’s a HAZMAT incident, which falls under HAZMAT jurisdiction.
Of course, during my shadowing at firehouses Sixteen, Thirty-Three, and Squad Five-Two-Five, one thing that stood out was the use of gallows humor. The firefighters often cracked dark jokes, usually followed by, “I’m going to Hell for saying that.” But the truth is, there’s a healing power to comedy. If you can make fun of yourself, talk about your problems, and have someone laugh with you, it makes you feel better and your problems don’t seem quite so bad anymore.
Some of the men who were in the military as pilots would say, “Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing. A ‘great’ landing is one where you can use the airplane again.” Those who served in the Navy or as submariners had their own versions: “Any ship can be a minesweeper. Once.” or “Every ship carries at least one torpedo.” and “A submarine is a ship for which the number of sinkings is equal to the number of surfacings. Hopefully.” That last one took me a while to understand until I realized it referred to how submarines submerge and surface.
I think the reason they use gallows humor is because they probably feel like they shouldn’t talk to a therapist. Maybe they don’t want to open up to someone who gets paid to listen to other people’s problems and actually don’t care. Instead, they find solace in humor, sharing a laugh with their peers who truly understand the weight of their experiences.
Honestly, I can understand why they refuse to see a therapist. You sit on someone’s couch, they write down what you say, charge you for the session, and if you start talking about something they don’t want to hear, they can just say, “And that’s time in our session,” even if there’s time left.
My great-granddad and most of his sons came from a time when it was seen as weak for a man to talk about his feelings or trauma. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, mental health wasn’t fully understood. The only way people got the “help” they needed was by being institutionalized in insane asylums, living apart from the rest of society. These institutions were seen as places of treatment, where people could receive specialized care, but they were also places of segregation. For my great-granddad and millions of others, it was the Great War from 1914-1918 that left deep scars.
Back then, talking about mental health was taboo, and the stigma was immense. Men were expected to be stoic, bottling up their emotions. It’s no wonder that humor became a coping mechanism for many, a way to deal with the harsh realities they faced without appearing vulnerable. It’s a tough legacy to break away from.
It’s interesting how Little Bird’s political system works. Even though the country has democratic elections, some presidents have had incredibly long terms. For instance, Abigail Orange served from 1936 to 1955, a total of nineteen years. My grand uncle’s term was even longer, spanning from 1968 to 2010—almost 42 years. Other presidents have served between 10 and 35 years. It does sound a bit like a Hereditary Republic when you consider that some of their eldest children run for president or other political positions.
Other people on the train were talking in code, which I managed to decipher. They were discussing the kind of operations they carried out during the war—missions so secretive that they’ll never see the light of day. These actions are covered in black ink, put in a file, and locked away forever. Their stories will die with them due to the secrecy of their missions.
Meanwhile, others were proudly talking about how well their kids are doing in school, especially in writing or English class. They mentioned how many educators find that creative writing can boost students’ academic performance and resilience. Completing small goals consistently, rather than leaving big goals unfinished, creates a sense of pride and releases dopamine in the brain, which increases motivation. It’s been shown to build resilience in students by allowing them to document and analyze their experiences. This gives them a new perspective on old situations and helps them sort through their emotions.
Others are saying how wonderful it is that their kids are out trying new things like sports instead of just playing tag, throwing water balloons, or walking through the woods playing soldier with friends. They’re encouraging their kids to try new activities because you never know if you’ll like something until you give it a shot.
That’s so true. When I was younger, I didn’t eat a lot of foods like pork chops and ribs. My dad would always say, “There are starving people in the world who would enjoy what you’re eating.” I also have family members who would say they didn’t slave over a stove or grill just for people to refuse to eat because they don’t like it, even though they’ve never tried it.
To me It’s important to step out of our comfort zones, whether it’s with food, activities, or experiences. You never know what you might end up loving until you give it a try. Plus, it’s a great way to build resilience and adaptability, qualities that are valuable throughout life.
To me, it’s great to have comfort zones, but sometimes staying in them can feel like insanity because you’re doing the same thing every day without trying anything new. If someone enjoys that, more power to them, but many people I know prefer to stay in their comfort zones. On the other hand, some people thrive in their optimal performance zones, trying new things even if they make them uncomfortable at first. They might try something again later down the road because people’s tastes and interests change over the years.
For example, I know people who hated baloney as kids but like it as adults. Some people who disliked being creative with their hands eventually found joy in woodworking or other trades and ended up getting jobs in those fields after graduating high school. It’s amazing how stepping out of your comfort zone can lead to discovering new passions and skills. It’s all about being open to new experiences and giving yourself the chance to grow and evolve.
I also read about other people who said they were snipers during the war. They talked about their kill counts and their nicknames or callsigns, which were either feared by the enemy or uplifting to their comrades. Pre-Vietnam era Little Bird snipers operated as one-man armies, with one sniper per company. From 1864 to 1962, the Little Bird Military described these sharpshooters as “These men are the best shots in the company, devastating against enemy officers.” This was updated in 1914 to include machine gun teams, emphasizing their ability to choose their targets from afar.
Since the 1960s, snipers have been required to have a spotter with them. The sniper focuses on long-range combat, while the spotter handles mid-range combat. This partnership enhances their effectiveness and safety, allowing them to cover more ground and support each other in various combat scenarios.
Ears wide open, I soak in the train's chatter. To my left, someone's planning a fancy dinner, all romantic vibes. On my right, a group’s buzzing about their recent family park trip. But the real kicker is this lively bunch ahead, raving about their upcoming vacation. They've booked rooms, saved up, and are set for a grand amusement park adventure—with one ironclad rule; no dumping kids on others. Everyone's there to have fun, not play unpaid babysitter. Fair point, right?
As for me, if I were on vacation, I'd be all about enjoying it too, not getting roped into watching someone else's kids. Picture this: me, lounging at a beach resort, margarita in hand, waves splashing at my smelly feet. Beats being an unwilling nanny any day. My family and I, we're the type to tell parents saying, "We deserve a break," that parenting's a full-time job. You can't just clock out and expect someone else to pick up the slack. If you don’t want to be parents or want someone else to handle your kids, then maybe rethink having kids in the first place. Harsh, but hey, that’s life.
I mean, can you imagine? My great-granddad was a legend. He and his first wife had a whole lot of kids: Terrence Jr. in 1919, Charles in 1920, Kevin in 1922, twins Stanley and Charlie in 1923, Diamond and Lily in 1924, Benny in 1927, Jackson in 1928, Paul in 1929, and Bill in 1942. Through it all, they never asked for a break. Not once.
Great-granddad was a full-time New York City fireman from 1921 to 1966, and he still managed to fight in both World Wars and the Korean War. Yet, the stories passed down from my grand-uncles? They always say how he and his wife took care of them all, no complaints, no asking for someone else to step in. They just did it.
So, yeah, when it comes to watching kids on vacation, I’m with my great-granddad. You take on that responsibility, you see it through. No dropping your duties on others so you can have all the fun. If you can't handle it, maybe rethink the whole having-kids thing. Harsh? Maybe. Real? Absolutely.
Of course, my great-granddad and his first wife came from a time when kids were supposed to be seen, not heard, and parents were the type to say, “My way or the highway.” Some folks on this train are talking about calling a service to watch their kids so they're not chasing after them when they decide to go sightseeing without their parents. But their friends pointed out how hiring a service can be pricey. In this country, economic value is everything, so you have to decide; do you want to shell out more money for a skilled sitter or save by getting someone with next to no experience? Decisions, decisions.
Then there's this bunch right across from me, engrossed in the wildfire situation sparked by the heat. That's the nature of the place—sporadic rain that leaves weeks of dryness, especially after June’s deluge. They’re saying the fire is mostly contained, thanks to the resilience of the trees. These trees have faced wildfires for centuries. Fire actually plays an essential role in forest ecology, clearing out old, less productive materials and creating openings for new flora. It’s like nature's reset button.
Some trees even have seeds that can only be opened by fire. When these seeds fall, new trees and plants grow, making the forest more resistant to future high-severity fires. In Little Bird, the government has a policy of letting wildfires burn for a while before putting them out. This approach allows the fire to clear the forest floor, promoting new growth. Native Little Birdens have long used prescribed burns to clear land for cultivation, and now urban, town, and wildland firefighters do the same. They create backburns, removing fuel so that when fires meet, they burn out due to a lack of fuel—part of the fire triangle of oxygen, fuel, and heat. These controlled burns also clear the canopy, letting sunlight hit the ground to support new growth.
And when I was at Arcane University, my science teacher had a lot to say about the Urban-Wildland interface. Since 1962, the government has banned this mix because it's simply impractical. On paper, it might sound like a quaint idea to blend homes with wildland. In reality? A disaster waiting to happen. When fires start, they have more fuel to burn, and let’s not even get started on people’s stubbornness. They always wait until the last minute to evacuate, often until it's too late. The fire cuts off escape routes, and they’re stuck because they refused to leave until surrounded.
Here in Little Bird, if the police issue an evacuation, most folks have time to pack a bag or two and leave in their own vehicles. But if the military steps in, it's a different story. They don't mess around. They’ll grab people, shove them onto military trucks, and evacuate them—no time to grab anything. You leave as you are with the clothes on your back. It’s harsh, but it’s about saving lives in the face of wildfires that can turn deadly fast.
Just then, the train intercom crackles with a news update. Last night, a domestic flight malfunctioned and crashed into a river. It was nighttime, and most people were already at home, getting ready for bed, so emergency response was slow. Turns out, the crash happened during a shift change at Air Traffic Control. The new controller thought the plane had just gone off radar and out of the capital of Little Bird's airspace. No one knew what had happened until a night-time walker spotted the wreckage and called for help.
That’s the thing about disasters—they're unpredictable and can strike out of nowhere, catching people off guard. Human judgment often makes things worse. Look at Chernobyl; it could’ve been prevented. In my 27 years, I've seen that most disasters come down to good old-fashioned corruption and cutting corners on safety. High-ranking officials trying to save a buck usually end up costing lives.
I mean, look around this train. My gut says some of these folks are the type to ignore warnings on TV and do whatever they please. Coming from North Carolina and Alabama, I know a thing or two about staying alert, especially with thunderstorms and tornadoes. Tornadoes often develop from supercell thunderstorms. If it was storming at night, I'd keep my bedroom TV on to the news or weather channel. Being a light sleeper, I'd hear any warnings. My dad didn't like it, but he knew I’d be the first to know if a tornado was coming, so I’d get up in the dead of night to warn him. My mom? Different story. She’d scold me, but our relationship was always rocky. I’d tell her I’d rather ask God and Satan for advice before her.
When there was a tornado watch, I'd head straight for the basement with my trusty teddy bear and a radio, waiting until it was safe. But some folks, here in Little Bird or back in the States, are the kind who’d go outside during a tornado warning, waiting to see it with their own eyes. To me, that's just plain stupid. Stay safe, be prepared, and don’t gamble with your life is a better solution than play daredevil.
My girlfriend, back when she was a probationary firefighter, faced a tornado hit in Empire in '97. Her district caters to off-campus college students and senior citizens, so their response plan included checking on at-risk folks, shutting off gas lines, and cutting electricity. They'd rescue and stabilize those trapped until ambulances arrived. Unfortunately, some were DOA because they didn’t seek shelter or took it seriously too late. Tornadoes are fascinating from a safe distance but terrifying up close.
I've seen a few, always making sure to keep a safe distance. That myth about the funnel being the only dangerous part? Totally false. Tornadoes are among nature's most awe-inspiring yet deadly displays. They can strike anywhere, anytime, causing devastating loss of life and property. When friends and family who've never seen one ask, I just say, imagine a windy day, then crank that up about fifty times. Or imagine a hurricane but instead of blowing away it’s sucking you in. It’s no joke.
Disasters have a way of testing our mettle.
My girlfriend and I are pretty practical when it comes to taxes. We get up on January 1st or 2nd and file them right away. Unlike those who wait until April 15th and scramble to mail them at the last minute, we like to get it done and out of the way. I've seen people underestimate their taxes and end up paying more later. By filing early, we avoid that hassle.
Many folks don't even know what an accountant is, and some, like my dad, just go to a tax professional for convenience. It's about what works best for you, I guess. Most of my family, except my mom, prefer to file their taxes in the first couple of months of the year. They write zero dependents on the tax form but put the number of kids they have under eighteen on the tax return. It’s not illegal; it's just the way things are done. My girlfriend does it too—zero dependencies on the form, but seven for her seven daughters on the return.
When the train pulled into Moonlight Cove, I decided to hop off even though my destination was the city of Empire. The train is an all-metal, streamlined beauty with four carriages—locomotive/passenger cars on the ends, and two passenger carriages in the middle. Accordion joints link the carriages, making it easy to move between them during transit. Each carriage has exits on both sides, and the locomotive's cockpit even has an emergency exit at the nose.
I figured it was a good chance to visit my cousin Mitchell "Mitzy" Waterson and his wife, Visala. I have two cousins named Mitchell, but the elder one got the nickname "Mitzy" from his mom. The other Mitchell, whom I stayed with for the night, doesn’t really have a nickname—unless his wife has one she keeps to herself, which honestly, I don’t care much about.
Mitzy works at the town's military supply depot, starting his day at 5 AM and wrapping up by 1 PM. Visala, on the other hand, works at the town science lab from 8 AM to 2 PM. It’s always a mix of early mornings and intriguing conversations with them, blending the routine with the unexpected.
I made my way to their house, where the flag of Little Bird was gently flapping in the light breeze. I walked up to the wooden door and knocked once with my right hand. Visala opened the door, but she was in disguise.
"Oh, I thought you were the delivery man," she said, thinking I was one of those shipping and supply chain guys. To be honest, I can't imagine myself in shorts, driving around dropping off packages to strangers.
Visala's got this thing about human greed. When disasters strike, she’s always quick to point out how some people profit from others' suffering. It's true—there are always those who scam and exploit in times of need instead of helping out.
Visala does cut funeral homes some slack. She figures they at least help people lay their loved ones to rest, whether it’s through burial or cremation. Her culture leans heavily towards cremation.
Visala also believes modern humans are soft compared to our Neanderthal ancestors. She’s convinced we couldn't hack it in the Neolithic era. Back then, when the ice retreated and megafauna went extinct, people didn’t have the luxuries we do. They couldn’t just run to the store if they were hungry or flick on the heat or AC. Farming was grueling labor with wooden hoes, turning fields every spring.
In her culture, they only visit the burial sites of truly legendary figures—warriors or influential politicians. Ordinary visits to burial mounds are for honoring and drawing strength from their ancestors. It’s about maintaining a connection to the past to boost their morale.
I feel strongly that once someone dies, they should be allowed to rest in peace without any disturbances. The Bible condemns spiritism, mediums, the occult, and psychics, but my stance comes from a place of respect for the deceased. They deserve eternal rest after a lifetime of challenges and triumphs, and any attempts to disturb that, like séances or mediums, feel deeply disrespectful.
Many people I know encourage communication with the dead for guidance. To me, that's the realm of ghosts—beings who remain in the physical world to avenge, help, or punish the living. The idea of drawing strength from ancestors or using mediums just doesn't resonate with me. It seems to disrupt the peace they’ve earned.
I mean, many people like me don’t bother the dead unless it's to pay our respects. Others, though, fork out hard-earned cash to those séances and mediums, who I think are whack jobs. I know a lot of folks who refuse to disturb the dead unless it’s out of sheer respect.
Take my great-granddad, for example. He fought in both World Wars and Korea. According to family stories, he refused to visit his second eldest son's grave for over 30 years. Terrence Waterson Sr. felt no need because his son was one of thousands who died in the Second World War, fighting alongside 156,000 Allied soldiers to free Europe on D-Day. To him, Terrence Jr. died a hero, trying to save millions under brutal occupation. It's heartbreaking, though, considering they landed in different sectors on the same beach—my great-granddad on Dog Green, his son on Dog White.
He didn’t want to visit Terrence Jr.'s grave because he saw each soldier as a cog in a vast machine. To him, his son's sacrifice was part of a greater effort, not an individual loss.
I looked around Visala and Mitzy’s house—it’s cozy but minimalist. They’re usually out and about, and the kids are outside when not in school. Visala mentioned Mitzy was at work, and the kids had left for school an hour earlier. When she asked why I stopped by, I explained I just wanted to check in on my family. She was alone, so we got to chatting.
Turns out we’re both the type who can't stand people ignoring weather warnings. Like, if a tsunami is coming, get told that it’s coming and you still head to the beach where it’s going to hit, that’s on you. There are systems for all sorts of disasters—volcanoes, earthquakes, thunderstorms, hurricanes, tornadoes. If a warning’s issued, we take it seriously, whether it’s a watch or an warning. No waiting until the last minute; being prepared is key.
We also reminisced about how things have changed from the 1920s to the '50s. Back in the '50s, construction was cheaper and cars were everywhere. Prefabricated buildings weren’t a thing yet—there were pre-cut buildings where everything was pre-measured for you to assemble. Prefabricated buildings came about in the late '40s and early '50s, mostly due to returning G.I.s after the war.
Visala also shared that on their first date, she and Mitzy went to the town’s Bistro. It’s a bit pricey, but worth every penny. They had a little hiccup when the waitress brought them the wrong order, but they kindly sent it back, and she quickly corrected it with apologies.
I told Visala how Empire’s restaurants often have dress codes. Many establishments offer options from a single course to a full three-course meal. My girlfriend and I usually stick with mozzarella sticks for appetizers, and while the main course varies, I often go for steak with a side of mac and cheese. Dessert is typically goth lasagna. I mean chocolate cake or a milkshake. Empire, once a sleepy town, transformed into a nightlife hub when the film industry moved in, attracting actors and actresses. It’s no wonder restaurants enforce formal dress codes.
I told Visala that about 90% of the rich folks in Empire are in the film industry. You've got your A and B list actors, the faces everyone knows. Then there are the C list actors—recognizable but nameless to most—and the D listers, barely known and often holding down regular jobs while waiting for a big break. Directors typically want A and B listers, believing that known faces will draw bigger box office sales. Funny thing is, all those A and B list actors started off as nobodies, D listers grinding their way up. Some A listers even got a head start thanks to family connections.
Take my cousin Twilight, for example. She dreams of being an actress. Many actors start as background extras or by helping out on set, fetching food orders instead of splurging on catering or craft services. Craft services, by the way, is the department in film production that provides snacks, drinks, and other assistance to the cast and crew.
Visala talked about how she could never be a Storm Chaser. Chasing storms is incredibly dangerous. But, she and I agree that people should follow their passions, despite the risks. Just, you know, take a moment to observe your surroundings.
When I asked Visala about family members who are one-sided, she didn't hold back—she absolutely despises them. I shared my own experiences with family members who manipulate situations to their advantage. It's like siblings setting up the eldest or youngest, and the family blindly believes the lying child.
Blind trust can ruin relationships. I've known people who got kicked out by their parents over a sibling's lie. When other Watersons hear about it, they voice their opinions, wanted or not, emphasizing how blind trust damages relationships. Parents who truly love their kids should act like detectives to find the truth, not just believe one side without evidence. If parents kick out a child based on a lie and that child moves on, starts a new life, and then gets married—it's often the parents and the lying sibling who want to show up uninvited. If they give an ultimatum, "include the lying sibling or none of us will come," many choose to go without them.
It’s true, you find out who your real friends are when you're at your lowest. Fake friends disappear when times get tough. Real friends and true family stick.
I even shared with Visala how I had friends back in Alabama, ones I met in middle and high school, who were kicked out by their parents over a single lie. When they showed up at our doorstep, my dad and I would take them in for a few nights. My dad would call their extended family to explain, but many were rude and sided with the parents. Others were sympathetic but couldn't take them in due to space. Eventually, my dad would reach out to our own extended family, explaining the situation, and we Watersons would band together, doing our best to provide stability for these kids.
My dad always said rumors are often stronger than the truth, and people are quick to believe them. But once these kids found stability in a supportive environment, they slowly began to heal. Though, as my dad noted, people are never quite the same after such experiences. When their original families, who had kicked them out, wanted to re-enter their lives, it felt like they were trying to play happy family or when it’s convenient for them after so much time had passed.
Visala's reaction was spot o.: "So the parents 'can't abandon their son or daughter' by going to the wedding or any other event alone, but they could abandon their other child for years over lies? They deserve to go to the grave knowing how badly they messed up."
It's a tough pill to swallow, seeing how deep family betrayals can cut. It really makes you appreciate those who stand by you, through thick and thin. But the thing is that you only know who will stick by you when you’re at your lowest. People you think are your friends will happily sell you out or abandon you if you get in the way of something they want. You'll only find out who your real friends are when you're down.
Of course I told Visala that in my eyes that those fathers are sperm donors not fathers and the mothers are egg donors not mothers.
To Visala, parents like them can go to hell and still wonder why the child they kicked out doesn’t show up to their funeral. It’s because people tend to remember bad things when there’s nothing good to balance it out. If you’re always put in bad situations, you remember the bad and have nothing good to hold on to. It’s especially true in family dynamics where “the people you are closest to tend to be able to hurt you the most.” That hurt runs deep when it comes from those we love and trust.
My friends who were kicked out by their parents over lies know this well. When their parents want to reconnect years later, they often say no. They’ve spent years without contact, disowned and abandoned. Then suddenly, the parents want to reconnect because a lying sibling is in the hospital, calling it “a sign” to move on as a family. But those wounds are deep, and they’d rather move on with their lives than be dragged back into negativity. Their parents and siblings can’t understand what it’s like to have their name dragged through the mud, given the cold shoulder by everyone.
Those friends found refuge with other families, ones who believed in evidence over blind trust. It's ironic and sad how some parents believe lies without question but demand proof when their kids tell the truth. It's a double standard, and it's destructive.
I even told Visala how some of my friends moved on to greener pastures, landing good-paying jobs and better positions due to their experience. But now, their parents and siblings, who once abandoned them, want back in. They think it’s socially acceptable to look like a happy family or expect them to use their position to give jobs to the sibling who lied and ruined their lives, or to other siblings.
But my friends said no. They’re not going to abuse their positions, and they’re certainly not going to play favorites. They'd rather hire an inexperienced person than any family member who left them high and dry over a lie.
Visala and I left the house and strolled through Moonlight Cove, a charming coastal town cradled by mountains on three sides. It’s a unique blend of modern and futuristic architecture mixed with the nostalgic charm of 1950s American suburbs. The town has its own school, police station, library, art gallery, and movie theater.
We headed to the store, taking a detour through the park. It's not a supermarket, just a small store with everyday essentials—perfect for a quaint town like this. As we walked, we talked more about our views on life and family, soaking in the serene atmosphere.
Visala shared some wild stories about the worst kinds of parents—the ones who demand their failing kids get passed, accusing teachers of violating educational rights. But teachers just grade based on the work they see, no special favors. Many of them have military backgrounds and combat experience, so dealing with entitled parents is like water off a duck’s back. When they snap back, it's a whole different level, because these folks have faced real-life danger.
I mentioned to Visala that my girlfriend has met those types at PTA meetings. Teachers often tell these entitled parents that if parenting had grades, they’d score an F minus. It’s tough dealing with people who can’t face the reality of their own shortcomings.
I told Visala about my girlfriend's encounters with entitled parents who think the world revolves around them. They want their failing kids to pass, but here in Little Bird, there’s no “No student left behind” policy. Students need to have the appropriate grade-level reading and writing skills. Every year, from elementary to high school, schools perform summative assessments to determine how many students are reading at grade level, who needs extra support, and who has serious difficulties requiring further assessment.
I also mentioned how my girlfriend's daughters, who are in fifth grade, have a sixth-grade reading level. Her eldest twins, who are in sixth grade, tutor their younger sisters. Lusty, my girlfriend, even bribes her eldest daughters to help their younger sisters with schoolwork and prepare them for middle school. It’s all about more advanced schoolwork now, with no more recess before or after lunch.
Visala and I agreed that education is crucial, and it’s important to ensure kids are truly learning and not just being pushed through the system. It’s about preparing them for the future, not just the next grade.
Visala shared that when she was in elementary school, recess came before lunch from first to fourth grade, but in fifth grade, it was lunch first and then playtime. I told her that according to my girlfriend, it varies by grade—grades 1, 3, and 5 have recess before lunch, while grades 2 and 4 have lunch first. I asked Visala where she was from, but she said I wouldn't believe it and chose not to elaborate. I've learned to give people space until they’re ready to open up.
People often never fully heal from traumatic events, even with closure. My girlfriend, Lusty, for example, lost her parents in an apartment fire when she was a probationary firefighter. She feels she never got to say goodbye. She convinced her company officer to go to the tenement building, which canceled Squad Co 525's response. Fifteen years later, she still blames herself 98%, with the remaining 2% on her mother’s former client. This client filed a fake lawsuit in 1980, causing her mother to lose her therapist license. Her parents took on backbreaking, low-paying jobs to support the family, working long hours on very little sleep, which affected their senses.
Lusty told me more about her parents, a mixed couple—Caucasian father, Native mother—hence she's mixed too. Her father's parents never accepted her mother or her. They even called Lusty a "thing" instead of acknowledging her as their granddaughter. That was the final straw for her dad. He cut ties without losing sleep over it because his real family was his wife and daughter.
On her mother's side, her grandparents were skeptical but respected their daughter's choice, treating her future son-in-law as family. They never saw Lusty’s mother as their in-law or Lusty as a family member. It wasn't until a decade after her parents' deaths that her father's family wanted to reconnect. Lusty shut them down, telling them her parents were dead and they should leave. Her father spent years wanting his family to accept his wife and daughter, but once they called Lusty a "thing," he was done and burnt that bridge beyond repair.
Visala said they made their bed and now they have to lay in it, never accepting my girlfriend or her mother. We suspect they're like those strict religious families insisting on opposite gender, same-skin-color, same-religion marriages. Visala pointed out how my girlfriend's mother struck gold. So many people cave to family pressure and leave their partners when their parents disapprove. But my girlfriend's father stayed with his girlfriend-turned-wife, even when his entire family opposed it. He ignored them and stood by her side. My girlfriend’s mother found someone who had a spine, who stood up to his entire family—something not everyone can do.
I told Visala how people make their choices and have to live with the consequences. Like my dad and cousin Mitchell's half-sister Cadenza always say, "Choices have consequences." Some choices are definitely better than others, though. Take my girlfriend's father's family—they didn’t like him dating someone of Native background, and when they had a child, they never accepted her. Calling my girlfriend a "thing" was the nail in the coffin. They alienated my girlfriend’s mother and her, and there was no fixing what was broken.
When some of her father’s family reached out to reconnect, my girlfriend gave them the same treatment they had given her and her mother. They didn’t like getting a taste of their own medicine. They claimed race had nothing to do with it, but when she challenged them, they froze and stuttered. She knew she’d hit the mark. When they called her "stubborn like your father," she simply responded, "I’ll take that as a compliment."
Visala laughed at the irony of my girlfriend's father's family alienating him just because he chose to marry someone they didn't approve of, yet he stood by his significant other against all odds. She called it tribalism, explaining how it's often easier to follow your group—even if it means conforming to opinions that conflict with yours—than to stick to what’s right. Tribalism can override reason, making risky times even riskier, either by feeding into dangerous actions or encouraging behavior one wouldn’t normally engage in due to peer pressure.
My girlfriend, being part Native Little Birden and from the Nightingale Tribe, understands this dynamic well. Her tribe, known for its militaristic culture, emphasizes earning individual merit rather than relying on ancestral achievements. Lusty delved into her heritage, earning her own Native name and discovering that her mother’s family included military legends. In their portraits, the rifles were customized to reflect their cultural identity.
Lusty shared how, historically, four out of the five Native Little Birden tribes had no concept of total war before 1697 in which then all five tribes united under a single banner. They engaged in minor skirmishes but avoided major conflicts. The Nightingale Tribe, however, introduced the brutal concept of total war, inflicting casualties and damage within days that the other tribes might have faced over a century. The other tribes typically had women perform domestic tasks, but the Nightingale Tribe included female warriors skilled in archery and specialized roles like "Thieves" and spies who infiltrated enemy territories to sabotage their finances by razing crops and stealing valuables.
I told Visala how Lusty shared with me the structured roles within the Nightingale Tribe. Everyone has a role, with able-bodied people primarily serving as fighters, while others handle farming, hunting, and educating the next generation. Lusty had embarked on a quest to uncover her mother’s heritage, which led her to retrieve a special rose that grows high on vines to get sunlight.
When she asked a Chieftain about the Nightingale Tribe's contributions to the Little Bird military, he explained, "Raiders mostly. We'd raid enemy lines at night or in urban combat, using our battle cry to terrify the enemy. Initially, we used wooden spears, then upgraded to spears with bone heads and bow and arrows. When settlers arrived, they thought their muskets would scare us off, but we'd raid them at night, capturing their muskets and black powder. Our cultural identity remains strong; we carry tomahawks instead of knives and decorate our helmets or wear headdresses instead of military caps. And we always speak in our native tongue in the military."
I also told Visala about how Lusty discovered her spirit animal, a wolf, symbolizing courage, strength, loyalty, and success in hunting, even though she doesn’t hunt. Her mother’s spirit animal was a dog, which guided her as a Stalker and Hunter, following her to hunt for meat.
“So, how’s it been being married for the past twelve years?” I asked.
“It’s been nice and quiet,” Visala replied. “I’m still more used to city life than rural, but that’s just me.”
We wrapped up the shopping and headed back to her and Mitzy’s place. She’d grabbed just a few things, planning to cook a fancy meal because, back where she’s from, royalty dines on luxury food. As we left the checkout line, our conversation shifted to how some people hate others just for existing or for superficial reasons. But the irony? When those same people come into money—winning the lottery or inheriting cash—everyone they know shows up with their hand out. They try to guilt-trip them emotionally or legally for a quick handout, then disappear when the money runs dry.
I shared with Visala how I have friends who are like cheesy rom-com characters, dating people who are their total opposites. I said, “The Cobbler has the worst shoes.”
She agreed, noting, “Most experts in their fields do not take their own advice to heart.” It’s true; many experts don't follow their own advice.
Visala and I both get mad that people with strong morals and good intentions often get punished by the petty and corrupt. She mentioned knowing families who enable adultery, choosing to keep it a secret when they find out.
It’s frustrating to see good people getting the short end of the stick because they won’t compromise their values.
Visala mentioned encountering some truly mean and toxic people. She talked about how other housewives called her tradition of honoring her dead mother and ex-fiancé stupid. Twice a year, on April 25th and May 1st, she takes time out of her schedule to honor their memory by doing activities they used to do together. These women even planned lunches on those days, knowing about her traditions, and then criticized her for not showing up.
Visala said, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sad when they stopped coming around. It showed where their priorities lie.”
To me It’s disheartening how some people can’t be respected.
Visala takes immense pride in her work as a scientist, often called upon to study alien technology and reverse engineer it for human use. Whether it's making alien laser weapons more practical for humans or developing advanced medicines to shield from harmful radiation, she’s deeply passionate about her contributions.
I asked her about her parents and ex-fiancé. She said their deaths were something I wouldn't believe—"out of this world" was how she put it. As for her ex-fiancé, she explained that her culture sees dying on the battlefield as the ultimate honor, far better than hiding in cowardice. He was at a crossroads and chose to sacrifice himself to save what little remained of their culture, thus regaining his honor. Despite his brilliance and strategic mind—operating with “subtlety and minimum expenditure of lives and resources”—he made the ultimate sacrifice, following a lineage of fearlessness from his father, grandfather, and beyond.
When we got back to their house, I asked Visala more about her culture. She made me promise to keep it a secret, and I gave her my "Scout’s honor" vow, even though I was never a girl scout. I believe in honorable standards and standing by my promises.
Visala shared that her home is literally out of this world, with sleek buildings in light colors, primarily white. The cityscape had many green spaces, non-grid boulevards, and sunken parks. Fountains were everywhere, and there were underground plazas with thick glass roofs. The city centers are interconnected with an L-Train system and subway stations, and the road network accommodates cars, buses, and trucks. There was a bus system for city or cross-province travel, with buses emerging from tunnels around the cities.
Her world’s technology is leagues ahead of what we have here. And, as it turns out, Visala was a princess.
Visala shared how advanced her world was—so advanced that they had cures for many diseases now lost to time. I told her that if her culture had the cure for cancer or other human ailments, she would’ve won a Nobel Prize, ironic since those prizes are named after the inventor of dynamite.
Visala’s story took a somber turn when she mentioned she left her world to escape its destruction. She was among the few who managed to flee while everyone else couldn’t. It’s a heavy burden to carry, knowing you survived when so many didn’t.
When I delicately asked Visala how many people were on her planet, she said there were 7.9 billion. Out of that, only 1,000 managed to escape alongside her. It’s a somber reality, knowing that billions perished while only a handful survived. I asked where the others were now. Visala explained that they’ve blended into human society. Some, like her, are married, have kids, and hold jobs. Others live off the grid.
Visala then asked how’s my prosthetic left arm, in which I told her that it’s fine and how it works like how it’s supposed to but for a while I had problems but went to a specialist who worked out the bugs and got it fixed so it works good. Visala said that I was welcome because it was her knowledge that could create prosthetic arms that look realistic to a real human arm but just filled with circuits and connect to the bone.
Visala shared that over her twelve years on Earth, she’s learned it’s okay to disappoint others, but never disappoint yourself. I couldn't agree more. I told her that I actually enjoy disappointing others if it means staying true to myself.
My mindset is simple. “There’s two kinds of people in the world; those who like me and those who can go to hell.” I’m not changing for anyone who wants me to be someone I’m not.
My mother tried to mold me into her ideal of an obedient 1950s housewife—cooking, cleaning, having kids, and listening to my husband without question. When I came out as bi, she dismissed it as a phase. Thankfully, my dad supported me, even when acceptance of homosexuality wasn’t as common. To Visala, someone’s sexuality is their own business. I totally agree—everyone’s different, and those differences should be respected.
I shared with Visala the irony of my mother wanting me to be an ideal 1950s housewife while she herself was an addict, lying around watching TV, and constantly fighting with my dad over minor things like a messy house, despite his long work hours.
When Visala asked about my job, I told her it’s fine. I plan to be the kind of firefighter officer who vets potential newcomers to ensure they can handle the job's stress. Like my girlfriend, who’s nicknamed the “Ghetto firefighter” because she's comfortable in any situation—whether it's a fire, a mass casualty incident, or specialized rescues like rope or building collapse, she's scared but comfortable with it all.
Lusty’s from a district that middle and upper-class people would call a “ghetto.” It’s rundown and at the bottom rung of the social and economic ladder. Banks and other places often redline this area, denying loans or insurance due to perceived danger.
I even told Visala how the city of Empire burned from 1968-1995 with increased fires, mostly arson for profit. There’s debate about when it started, some say 1967, others 1968. The Fire Department City of Empire fire commissioner attributed it to poor families from rural areas crowded into unfamiliar environments, leading to accidental fires. But in reality, the old tenement buildings were obsolete, a century old by now. The electrical systems couldn’t handle new appliances, causing fires when people used TVs, blenders, microwaves, or electric stoves.
Looking at fire department incident reports, 94% of those fires were labeled as “Suspicious fire” rather than “Cause of Fire: Unknown,” which requires an Arson Investigator. The city only has 40 arson investigators in the Fire Department, with the Police Department having their own Arson Squad. Both are considered the most boring and lowly departments because there's often not enough evidence to investigate thoroughly. Many investigators believe arson is typically insurance fraud, with people setting fires to claim on their insurance. Fires are most destructive when they burn longer, and many start at night, delaying the fire department's response.
I also told Visala how in this country, turning eighteen means fighting a metaphorical war. Take my job, for example—each class has 100-120 men and women training for one spot. It’s all about performance in training and exams. My girlfriend and I are in specialized units acting like miniature rescue squads but operating as Engine or Ladder Companies. She advised me to take HAZMAT Tech A, Building Collapse One, and Vertical Rescue courses to be eligible for a Squad Company. You have to show you want it, giving 200% and going the extra mile even when exhausted.
Of course, I told Visala that we have to really bust our rear ends to get picked for more dangerous jobs in firefighting. It's a tough gig, especially when dealing with hazardous goods like explosives, flammable and poisonous gasses, flammable and nonflammable liquids, and dangerous solids. We also handle water rescues in white water and rapids, dealing with classes four to six on the international river difficulty scale. We're all certified divers, even though the city has its own Dive rescue unit.
I shared with her how my girlfriend had Thalassophobia for a long time. When she was six, she was with her grandparents on a rainy day, and a truck hydroplaned, hitting their car and sending it into the river. Her grandparents were killed instantly, but she was still alive and terrified. She didn’t know the city had a specialized water rescue unit until someone in a dive suit appeared, used an Oxy-Hydro cutter to get her out, and saved her. The city brought in one of those cranes or wrecker cranes to pull the car out of the water.
I told Visala how, in the academy, taking classes to join a Squad company made other trainees talk behind my back. It made me feel like I'd done something wrong. Seeing their looks, I could imagine what they were saying. But I kept reminding myself that ambition makes people uncomfortable, and I wasn’t doing it for them—I was doing it for me. Lusty and my dad always said that ambition is seen as a threat. Taking those advanced classes rubbed some trainees the wrong way since we were all still just trainees, not even fully-fledged firefighters.
I also shared with Visala that I carry two chips on my shoulder: being a woman in a male-dominated field and being related to two highly respected captains, plus dating a highly respected lieutenant. People expect me to act entitled because of my connections, but I just keep my head down and do as I'm told, showing my worth through my actions, not my associations. My cousin Dave who’s a Captain, his wife Captain Linda, and Lusty all say I’m the type of person every officer wants—someone who can keep their mouth shut and follow orders. In the academy, we learned “Not to run but walk with a purpose.” It’s about making informed decisions.
I told Visala about others in my class who’d run to a door without checking if it’s hot, often triggering a backdraft. They’d get chewed out by Backdraft Specialists—experts who know the signs of a backdraft and teach us how to avoid or neutralize one. These specialists would demonstrate using a metal trash can, lighting a fire inside with the lid on, then quickly removing the lid to show the blast of smoke and fire when oxygen rushes in, simulating a hot, oxygen-depleted environment.
I told Visala how, after getting injured on the job, I was temporarily assigned to an arson investigation under Captain Daniella Vinton. Her first words to me were, “I know your cousin and your girlfriend—they’re helluva firefighters and they have a reputation. But Dave and Claire’s reputation doesn’t mean anything here.” Captain Vinton was actually Dave’s first Captain, and she said there was little she could teach him because, “Dave was already trained before getting on the job.”
Dave’s father and uncle were firemen from 1968-2003, and Dave was pretty much raised in a firehouse. Captain Vinton told me that Dave’s mindset was such that if you gave him a number of a compartment on any fire engine or truck, he’d tell you every tool in there and describe each tool's role. He spent most of his youth in the firehouse, absorbing everything around him. Despite that, Dave says he never really wanted to be a firefighter but ended up taking the civil servant exam and became one out of his own will.
Visala noted how many people end up pursuing careers they initially didn’t intend to, often because of tradition, being around it so much, or just to stay with friends. She also knew about Dave’s father and uncle, who were ahead of their time in the early '70s. They were the type of firefighters who’d leave you more knowledgeable after every conversation, always eager to try something new. Born and raised in Greenwich Village, Manhattan, their father was a Manhattan fireman. They volunteered in Queens and Staten Island but faced rejection when trying to go professional. They even tried to fight in Vietnam but were denied, so they moved to Little Bird and finally got accepted as firefighters. This was during New York’s decline, with economic stagnation, industrial decline, and high unemployment leading to increased crime rates.
Bobby and Clark Waterson were known in Little Bird for being tough on business owners to install sprinklers and on building contractors to use fire-resistant materials. They lobbied for new fire safety laws and better technology, foreseeing the need for more comprehensive fire department roles, long before the first accredited paramedic training. They believed that as first responders, they needed medical training to provide proper aid until ambulances arrived.
I mentioned how my girlfriend recounted a female mayor of Empire who merged the city EMS with the Fire Department to reduce response times. She argued that if a bomb went off in the City Council room or a major earthquake happened, rescue units would arrive within minutes, but independent and hospital owned ambulances would only transport the injured to another waiting doctor, often too late. The Fire Department could provide some first aid but lacked the comprehensive medical training needed on the spot. She emphasized how crucial it was to have fully integrated emergency services to stabilize victims faster and improve their survival chances, taking into account traffic and roadblocks. She convinced the City Council, and the merger passed.
Visala asked about my public school experience. I explained it was fine, but I was mostly a reserved kid, sticking to the shadows, blending in with the crowd. I preferred being a nobody over being someone constantly craving attention.
I shared about how some students were picked on for their religious views, especially those that prohibited celebrating holidays and birthdays. High school was the toughest for me, especially with puberty and coming out as bi. Some of my friends belonged to a cult that didn’t accept outsiders. They claimed to accept everyone, but behind closed doors, anyone who wasn’t straight and not in their cult isn’t welcome.
In high school, I got a lot of unwanted attention from guys, and how many fellow female classmates were jealous of me having bigger breasts than them but to me that’s more of a curse than a luxury, and my refusal to go out with a popular guy sparked rumors spread by some girls. I do like guys, but I prefer women. I was in a rebellious mood mostly against my mom. Some of my friends in the cult were discouraged from befriending outsiders because we could give them a reality check. If someone left the cult, they were cut off by all their friends faster than a blink.
I explained to Visala that I’m a non-practicing Baptist. In my religion, if someone leaves, we remain friends but avoid talking about religion with them but still friends with them. However, my friends in the cult are cut off entirely if they leave.
Continuing our conversation, I shared more with Visala. I explained how some of my friends in a cult had to deal with isolation because their group hates them having friends outside the cult. They fear that outsiders like me could give their members a reality check, exposing the cult’s flaws or showing there’s more to life than dogma.
Visala asked how much of a non-practicing religious person I am. I told her it’s been over two years since I attended church, and I haven’t read the Bible in three and a half months. My last participation in religious activities was missionary work from 2001-2003. I stopped because it felt like forcing my beliefs on others, and I wasn’t comfortable being far from home for extended periods even though I did enjoy being far from my mom so guess you can say that’s a double edged sword. Honestly, I’d rather work as a waitress for 96 hours straight than go on another mission trip.
In high school, I was a waitress part-time and got decent tips. But I was shy and more of a loner. I doubt my teachers even remember my name because I was just another face in the crowd. In contrast, many of my friends had spoiled siblings who were involved in sports or after-school activities and were widely known. Teachers often talked to them about their siblings' successes.
Visala told me that back home, she attended what we humans call a private school, exclusively for royalty and influential families, like her ex-fiancé’s, renowned for their brilliant tactics. Despite being an arranged marriage, it could’ve worked because they were long-time friends, familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
Visala shared that her mother would never have forced her to marry a stranger, as they both have a knack for seeing people’s true colors early on. She told her fiancé multiple times not to feel pressured by family tradition if he wasn't comfortable with it, even though he was supposed to be the next military commander, following in the footsteps of his father, grandfather, and so on. He had no interest in that path, and Visala herself never wanted to be a princess. Her mother being a queen meant they were thrust into roles they didn't want. Visala is more of a scientist at heart, and on Earth, she studies xenoarchaeology. Her ex-fiancé was more comfortable behind a desk, doing paperwork, stargazing, and studying the weather rather than making military strategies and playing wargames.
Visala shrugged when I asked about her father, as she never met him, and her mother never really talked about him. She assumed he either died when she was too young to remember or was a qualified donor who vanished after conception. With her home world destroyed, he’s likely gone unless he was among the few who escaped. Visala never lost sleep over it, believing her dad was just "sleeping," as her mother used to say about the deceased.
Visala mentioned how kids in her home world are seen as smarter than adults often give them credit for. They understand more than people realize. As a child, she didn’t grasp the concept of death fully but knew her mother’s "sleeping" meant something more permanent, which she called "forever sleep" until learning about death later in life.
I agree with Visala. Children have incredibly active imaginations and can understand far more than adults think, often picking up on subtleties that are overlooked.
Visala used to speculate that one of the Royal Guards protecting her and her mother could've been her father, but she dismissed this theory. The Royal Guards were strictly professional, ensuring that those they protected knew who to allow access. Any romantic relationship between a royal and a guard would’ve caused a scandal and led to the guard being fired for breaching contract and ethical violations. Visala asked me to visualize a medieval hierarchy pyramid: the Royal Guards were akin to medieval knights, and the royalty of her world held the same status as medieval royals.
She explained that while her species has more or less human anatomy, she and Mitzy’s kids are half-human hybrids. The kids don’t know this because her species’ mothers can add or remove certain traits from their newborns. Visala ensured their alien heritage was concealed. Some of her DNA is human, but it’s a long story.
I asked Visala how old she is when Visala revealed she's twenty years old and was nineteen when she arrived on Earth. She explained that ten Earth years equate to just one year on her homeworld. It's mind-blowing to think one Earth decade is merely a year where she’s from. The technology from her world is so advanced that modern human tech looks like it belongs to the Classical era, and anything from a century ago appears to be from the Neolithic era.
Visala said how one Earth century is a decade from where she’s from so she has to work four hundred Earth years which is forty years where she’s from.
Visala told me I would’ve loved her planet, but words couldn’t do it justice. She showed me photos of her homeworld before its destruction. It looked like one of those planets in sci-fi movies—lush jungles and forests, a popular tourist destination. Her planet was almost nine thousand miles in diameter, with gravity at 1.04, an atmosphere of 1.5 nitrogen and oxygen, and temperatures ranging from 63°F to 125.6°F during the day, dropping as low as 20°F to 62°F at night.
The planet was covered in dense, lush forests and jungles. It had tropical plant species like small palms, ferns, and various broadleaf plants, similar to date palms and banana plants. The culture of her people was peaceful and thriving.
It’s incredible to think of such a vibrant, advanced world that once existed. It must’ve been a beautiful place to call home.
Visala reminisced about the advanced tech on her home planet. Hover cars, mind-bending engineering, and trains that make Earth’s high-speed trains look like antique coal engines. They had robots programmed for specific fields: firefighting models that could withstand 24 million degrees Fahrenheit and used cryo guns; police models equipped with shockers; construction models with built-in hammers, nail guns, and welding tools. There was no military robot version, though. Their culture believed in the honor of flesh-and-blood sacrifices in war.
It's astonishing to think of such technological advancements, making our modern world seem primitive in comparison. Visala’s descriptions paint a vivid picture of a world we can only dream of.
Her world sounds like something straight out of a science fiction show. Faster-than-light capabilities, military pulse weapons, lasers, and plasma weaponry, and advanced armor. Visala even remade their powered exoskeleton assault armor for human use. It's fascinating and mind-blowing to think about the advanced technology they had.
As one in the afternoon rolled around, Mitzy came home. He asked what I was doing there, and I told my cousin once removed that I was just visiting. He didn't push it and went over to the fridge. I noticed his uniform had a Major insignia, which surprised me because last I checked, he was a Lieutenant back in the late 90s, early 2000s.
When I asked what he does in the military, he shrugged and said, "It’s a supply depot. What do you think?" I guess that means he's a supply officer who spends his days at a desk, on a computer or typewriter, or walking around doing inventory.
Mitzy just said he got his hands full at the battalion level, ensuring every little detail is documented thrice over. I can’t imagine the patience required for that much paperwork.
Mitzy’s response about the bureaucratic nature of logistics work was enlightening. “Everything has to be done in triplicate. If you need just one bandage, then you and that soldier need to fill out three pieces of the same paper. And if you want your pay early, you need to do that paperwork in triplicate as well.”
Talk about meticulous. It’s a far cry from the more hands-on, immediate action of firefighting. But I guess every role has its own challenges and necessary precision.
I said about how in firefighting well to me that the city I work for that only officers do the paperwork unless if it’s a major emergency or one of those situations that they needed everyone’s point of view. Like if someone accused a company of theft at an emergency then they would want us to write out paperwork from what we did, what our position is and if we saw anything like what was stolen or not. But mostly it’s the Captains and Lieutenants who get stuck with the paperwork and I told Mitzy and Visula how my cousin Dave and girlfriend Lusty said how you need to be 100% accurate on said reports no detail left out no matter how small of course it’s kinda difficult of writing an report on the effort of six others or seven overall of what they done to the letter. Of course I said about how my cousin Dave doesn’t do that because while yes he’s a captain but he can’t supervise six others at the same time because having two guys on the roof to ventilate the roof while another two performing search and rescue while another two performing forced entry along side with the search and rescue team.
I explained to Mitzy and Visala that in firefighting, paperwork is usually handled by officers unless it’s a major emergency or when everyone’s point of view is needed, like in cases of theft accusations during a response. Captains and Lieutenants mostly bear the brunt of the paperwork, and both my cousin Dave and girlfriend Lusty emphasized the need for 100% accuracy—no detail too small.
It’s challenging to document the precise actions of six people. Dave, even as a captain, can’t supervise all tasks simultaneously—having two guys on the roof ventilating, another two performing search and rescue, and another two handling forced entry alongside the search and rescue team.
I told Visala how my cousin-in-law Linda, married to Dave, has it even tougher. She handles calls a normal fire company can’t manage. According to Dave, once Linda was so backed up with paperwork it would make a school teacher pull their hair out. From 7:30 AM at shift change, she was called to an underwater rescue, then at 8:15 AM to a high-rise building spewing scalding steam onto a boulevard. By 9 AM, she was dealing with a third alarm fire, and at 11 AM, she was dispatched to a 200-ton crane that broke a water main. All this before lunch! And back at quarters had to write a detailed report of each one and that each one had to be written.
I told Visala that Linda’s father was a highly respected battalion chief, and still is. Linda and her siblings practically grew up in the firehouse, learning the ropes. They know how crucial it is to write up accurate incident reports. Miswriting or miscalculating can cause serious issues. They’re trained to classify incidents correctly and record times down to the second. They report from their own perspective but cover their company’s actions in the third person. They start with the initial response details and classify the fire, whether it’s:
Fire (with cause)
Suspicious Fire
Cause of Fire: Unknown
I explained to Visala that those who didn’t go home at shift change could at least file for overtime. In Empire, the Fire Department has a system where at shift change, if one member comes in for their company, one person can leave until all seven off-shift report in, then the on-shift can go home.