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The Shape of Things To Come (Panoptipal and Demimaiden)

For Oliver, going to Oregon was an escape. An overworked intern didn't really have much opportunity for escape, even in the city, a thriving metropolis where escape seemed everywhere. But Oliver was dedicated if nothing else, dedicated to his job, or well, his internship. Some would call it "being used by the system," but Oliver preferred the phrase "investing time now for better opportunity in the future," and although it didn't necessarily have the same ring to it, it was true. It would pay off one day, he always told himself. He couldn't depend on luck. Luck was for the lazy. Hard work, that was all he needed. That was all anyone needed, and one day, it would all pay off. He believed that more than anything else. Until then, he had the responsibility to keep his priorities in check. Punching his asshole of a boss in the face did not trump and would never trump working hard for a better future. Simple as that.

But with Oregon, he was making an exception. The photoessays would not take long, or rather, he had more time than he really needed. If he was back in the city, he would move onto the next task assigned to him, but in Oregon, he wouldn't get the same opportunity again to just escape. Escape the stress, the people, the noise of the city. At the end of the day, it was a rationalization, a rationalization that Oliver normally wouldn't comply with, but the circumstances were special. His mindset had adjusted. This time was different. He wasn't in the city anymore. He was somewhere new. Somewhere fresh. It was a change. And that excited him.

But then, he saw the meteors. Well, at first, they were two bursts of color and heat that fell from the sky, something he couldn't really comprehend or understand, just something he could be amazed about and stare at for the instant that they were there with his dark blue eyes. It was only seconds later that he realized exactly what he saw, and upon this moment of realization, he only laughed. He glanced around, more aware than ever that he was alone. No one saw that but him, or at least no one nearby saw that but him. He laughed again. And to think he found Oregon exciting just moments ago. No, this was exciting. Meteors crashing within walking distance. And he was the first person who could report about it. That was something. That was what he wanted. That would be his escape, and perhaps also, his future.

Twenty minutes later or so, he approached the crater. His lanky body was a little worn out by this point, and night was approaching, the cool air settling in, but his curiosity kept him going. He dropped his backpack at the edge and slowly made his way down into the crater, hoping to get a better look at whatever it was that fell from the sky. For once in his life, he didn't care about what would happen next or in the future. He cared about now. It was a change, certainly, but he had gone to Oregon knowing his time there would be about the exceptions, the escape, not the rules. He was simply following through on the promise he made to himself, a promise to just let go for once. And besides, this was a great opportunity. How could it hurt?
 
"...What is that?" Oliver whispered as he inched closer, his heart pounding. It was a light blue woman, a ghost or something. Certainly not solid, or human for that matter. A hologram? That was the most likely possibility. But maybe it was something else, he figured, and then doubt crept in like a spider, like it always did, poisoning his thoughts. He should go. Turn back and leave. Just forget about it. It was probably something he shouldn't interact with. Something dangerous, probably. He was just an intern. This was bigger than him.

But he kept moving forward. No, don't turn back, he thought. Usually this would be stupid. But this is Oregon. Just approach it. It can't be too dangerous. Whatever it is.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, and then she spoke. And he listened. It felt like she talked for forever, even though she only said a few sentences, a couple dozen words. But for whatever reason, it felt like forever to him, maybe because it was just what he wanted to hear.

"My name is Oliver Dobble," he stuttered, trying to remain composed. "I'm, um, not a squirrel. I'm a human. A human being. Um, male. 22 years old. Intern at... well, no, that's not important. Anyways. What's this about making a valuable contribution to the survival of the species? I... I want to help." He nodded, more to reassure himself than anyone else of his certainty. He wanted to do this. Whatever 'this' actually was, it didn't matter. "Yeah. I want to help."
 
Oliver remained where he was. Not out of fear, at least he wouldn't readily admit that. No, he preferred the idea that he was just being careful in what could be the biggest decision of his life. Even exceptions had exceptions.

"Listen, um, I'm not exactly what you would call an expert on, well, technology. So let's back up here. I want to help, but not before I figure out what's going on."

He wanted to sound confident, but didn't want to sound aggressive or forceful, not sure of the capabilities of the suit or hologram or whatever that was. Being blown to bits by some alien technology would make for a great story, but one he would like to tell, not star in.

"Why exactly do I need to pilot you? How exactly would I be making a valuable contribution to the survival of my species? And why did you fall out of the sky?"

He was ready to make mental notes in his head for what could turn into the story of a lifetime. If for whatever reason saving the human race turned out to be a little inconvenient for him, at least he would have a decent report. But no, he was trying to be serious here. Saving everyone everywhere trumped having a good story.

He then added, "Oh, and what exactly do you mean by discomfort?" That did not sound pleasant, because, well, it probably wasn't. He figured he might as well get as many details out as possible. Just so he could make the best decision, of course.
 
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