"I'm afraid you'll have to wait a week here in Old Orleans before we can leave to head up north to Chicago."
Mattie 3.0, whom I had learned had been defictionalized in a process the IntransiGents had stolen from the military during one of the Uprisings ... defictionalized from one of my very own stories that I had written before I stepped through the portal created by my cell phone app and found myself in 2084 ... broke the news to me gently.
"A week in New Orleans can't be a bad thing!" I replied, mostly under my breath.
"OLD Orleans," he immediately corrected. "And that's the problem -- you will need to do so AND still fit in. Just because you have a Population Control Board stamp on your entry papers doesn't mean that people are going to stop asking questions or being suspicious."
I bowed my head, slightly ashamed at my slip.
Mattie 3.0 continued. "You should understand that if you and I and Captain Sandy and the IntransiGents all know that the Fourth Uprising is being planned -- so does the government. You don't want to get on their radar. I don't want you to get ME on their radar."
"Of course. I'm sorry. I won't do it again," I offered up as penance.
My attempt at an apology didn't seem to placate Mattie 3.0, because he spoke even more emphatically in response.
"YOU aren't supposed to be here. I'M not supposed to be here. BOTH of us exist in 2084 due to technology that ONLY the government is supposed to have. EITHER one of us could lead them to the rest of the IntransiGents. BOTH of us taken together could bring down the whole movement."
There I sat in the sex-porium booth, being lectured to by a fictional character I had once created decades before because my early-2000's-mind wasn't using the appropriate 2084-language in casual conversation. I felt like maybe I should have been given a break. Mattie 3.0 clearly didn't agree.
I decided it was in my best interest to try and change the subject.
"So ..." I breathed in and exhaled slowly to communicate my intent to do just that. "Where will I be staying whilst we wait to begin our journey up north?" I queried.
"That's been arranged," he said straight-forwardly. "You'll need to meet me back here at the end of my shift. I still have to make the coins we'll need for our trip ..."
As for the rest of the story about my night on the town, I'll have to wait until the last day of the month next to share as the loophole when the VitalNet updates each month is soon closing. Until then, I remain Ilion in 2084, communicating with you about the future via Troy in 2018's social media account, having been brought here by t1a7n72.lif (my IQ, EQ and SQ files that live on for eternity).
Until the next time ... be sure to take care of each other -- 'cause I'm afraid it gets worse before it gets better. Just know that I trust and believe in our collective ability to get us through what lies ahead.
