Paistiche

    "Look it, Booba... big kitty..."
    Cinescope stipple, the orange tabby, an interference pattern against
aqua blanketed couch, stirs.
    Can you just turn up the heat, yes I see,
    "Look at..." gestures to the wide screen tuned on Wild World.
    Yes, yes,   she phases through the display as he dips back in the kitchen
turning maple bacon.  She's back napping.  Radio static snow pelts the ground
outside.  Static.  Stasis.  Stable state.  Static.
    "He's not doing anything.  He never does," Roger That of Observation Team
Beta Six drones next door.  "Can't we just..."
    "Scuttle that." Captain clips, "why do you think Alpha pulled?"
    Static.
    "Did he just...?" Roger drawls.  "But isn't that... he's hacking reality..."
    "First Alpha Team got yanked when one of their ops just disappeared," Captain
dryly annoints.  "He thought he'd intervene and then... nobody knows what
happened to him.  We're here to observe: watch for the Others."
    "That's not possible, what do you mean?" Rogers skin perks, hairs bristling.
    "Second Alpha Team pulled out when words started changing their spelling."
Cap slowly breathes.  "He's baiting them."
    "But he's not doing anything.  He doesn't go anywhere, I mean, other than
groceries," Roger whines.  "And even then, there's nothing.  We looked;
we tailed him: someone in store; nothing.  Can't we...."
    The Captain silences That.  "Third Alpha Team pulled when all their skin
started changing colors.  He just knows.  He doesn't care.  He's already done
it.  He's done it all.  We can't even figure it out or how.  And it's happening.
We don't know what it is or even where.  But we have to watch so we can see,
if even that."
    Quantum imperitive.  Static.