Agency 13 # 1

A Beginning

Imagine a tall black man, dressed in comfy blue jeans, a red, stretch fabric shirt, black work boots, and device-laden web gear. He's carrying an unusual shotgun, one which is seemingly emitting a laser sight from the barrel.

There are several folks standing behind him, and though they're mostly obscured by shadow you can make out vague hints of their features when looking close. A hint of red in that flat top here, a cane in the tall, white-haired man's hands there.

(That should do for a 'cover', shouldn't it?)

Notice: for those of you that are faint of heart, the following tale is not at all G-rated. It may include foul language, excessive violence, sexual innuendo, and other things that would get this story burned, were it in a printed form, by the more fanatical elements of every religion on earth. In other words, if these things offend you, you may want to stop reading now.

(That should do for a 'disclaimer', shouldn't it?)

***

Mike Jensen stood tentatively before the Transfinitron.

It had been a scant three years since Mike had perfected the device, a true marvel of modern science by any definition of the term - though he never got around to actually sharing the technology with his fellow scientists. They laughed and laughed as he tried to scrounge up the money to fund his research, though nobody's laughing now. Mike Jensen doesn't scrounge any longer.

That's because shortly after Mike first crossed the border between his earth and the next, he was contacted by the Jensen Congress, which was then twelve other, variant earth versions of himself. Two were female, one had a robotic leg, and one sported an immense afro, as opposed to his own, clean-cut flat-top. They were different on the surface, to be sure, but they were still him in all the ways that counted.

One of the first Mikes that pierced the fifth-dimensional barrier recognized this, and decided to keep an eye out for other versions of himself that could accomplish the same thing. He then brought these counterparts into the fold, as he'd already built a small empire from technologies that he'd raided from other worlds. He never interfered with other worlds' destinies, though, as that would curtail the development of, well, other Mikes.

Using this principle, and sharing his belief about non-interference with his counterparts, the 'original' time-crossing Mike Jensen, Mike 001, formed the Jensen Congress. He set up a vast headquarters for the Congress on an earth where sentient beings never evolved, and it soon became a home for the exchange of ideas, the Mikes of various different timelines started sharing their different technologies with each other.

The organization became a considerable success, and every Jensen that joined the Congress benefited. Of course, to do so, each Jensen had to vow to obey the Congress' singular law: each and every Jensen is equal, and each Jensen's world is off-limits to other Jensens, unless they are explicitly invited over. This simple rule has helped to keep the Congress both at peace and quite profitable for all its various members.

While some of the Mikes (or Michelles, or whatever) did bring vast amounts of the shared Jensen technology to their worlds, some to good effect and some not, Mike 013 (as our Mike came to be known as) didn't travel this route, choosing not to interfere with the normal development of his world. Instead, he chose to keep it clear of cross-temporal information pollution, and that's how it has progressed for the most part.

However, this changed when the entirety of the Jensen Congress asked Mike 013 to participate in a grand project. You see, Mike 101 and Michelle 232 had been studying details regarding the various variant earths under the Congress's purview for some time. They'd discovered that his earth, known as Earth 13, was a nexus of sorts for various happenings occurring, in parallel, on other Jensen earths to some extent.

In essence, they wanted to study his earth in vast detail, since it was an indicator of things to be on their own worlds, if they hadn't deviated from the norm too much. Mike spent several weeks in a deep, internal debate about this, and had finally made up his mind. He was going to go along with this experiment, though on his terms. Making his way through the portal, he addressed the Council to tell them how it would be done.

Essentially, he would have a base built for the Congress from which they could study his earth, though they wouldn't be allowed beyond without his supervision. If they wanted to look into somebody or something, he (or any of the many investigators he would employ) would check the matter out personally. He wasn't about to let the fruits of the Congress' work affect his world at all, even if it was for the greater good.

Once he told the Congress his terms, they gladly accepted, and outfitted Mike 013 with all the gear he'd need for the task at hand. They built him various high tech accoutrements that were disguised as mere current devices from his world, such as a pump action shotgun with a hidden laser emitter built in, a universal sensory device to track weird phenomenon, and a specially lined, force-field generating bodysuit.

"Sweet," was all Mike 013 could offer after receiving these new toys from his counterparts.

They represented the height of the Jensen Council's disguised-tech capabilities. Sure, he'd have preferred to make the gear himself, but since time was of the essence, Mike figured he could spare the ten years it would have taken him to do so. And now that he had the equipment, he had to go and make good on his promise. He figured he could buy some land somewhere out of sight, like in Utah... or Nebraska.

That could work. A self-sufficient compound deep in the middle of nowhere in one of those empty-style states ought to serve the Congress well. The majority of it would be underground as well, so they could cram the place full of the gear they needed to work his earth over for data. He'd get on that right away, since the mass of raw gold the Congress gave him to fund the experiment was burning a hole in his pocket.

Aside from a base, all Mike 013 needed was some top-notch investigators!

***

Meanwhile, outside of natural space and time, forces the Jensen Congress were barely aware of were actively aligning against them. Deep within his lair, the director of one such force was questioning his minion from the shadows of his ornate desk. "Is our agenda for this Jensen Congress world proceeding according to plan, Argyle?" The minion, wielding a typically cocky expression, replied in the affirmative.

"Excellent. For we shouldn't want this ridiculous Congress to really get on its feet, now, should we? I mean, there are more than enough gangs out there trying to manage the timelines as it is. Should they succeed, they could very well get in the way of corporate expansion." The man puffed on a cigar, though there was definitely no tobacco within. In fact, there were no herbs known to the earth in that smokeable whatsoever.

"Yes, CEO Wiggins. That's why I already went ahead and secured the standard corporate cover, and -".

Argyle never managed to finish his sentence, as Wiggins leapt from his desk and slapped him to the ground - with far more speed and force than an old man like him should be able to muster. "Fool! If any member of the Jensen Congress is aware of Ubiquidyne, it will be hopelessly apparent that our holding firm on this so-called 'Earth 13' is, in fact, our own! They would be upon us instantly!"

As Argyle pulled himself up from the cool marble floor (not marble tiling, mind you, but real marble; Wiggins had more money than he could count), his superior continued. "No. If we are to succeed against these fools, we must think differently. Set up a new cover, built from the ground up. Use unknown locals as stooges, and make no one aware of the fact that Ubiquidyne is, in fact, pulling their strings. Do you understand?"

"Yes, CEO Wiggins." With that, Argyle bowed and left the corporate officer's fortress. Some division CEOs had glass and steel monstrosities as their homes, but Wiggins built a stone fortress on Planet U instead, one lined with the most expensive security systems available. He thought it was a statement about his power and tenacity. It wasn't, really, it just showed his fellows his total lack of taste.

As Argyle left the fortress, he was fuming mad. 'Strike me, will he?', he thought. 'Call me a fool, will he?' Angry enough to speak aloud at this point, Argyle ranted. "It would serve him right if this silly Jensen Congress took off, and made him look the fool. The all-mighty Wiggins, CEO of the Aggressive Defense division, letting yet another cross-temporal organization become a threat to the Company. Ha ha ha!"

High on rage and adrenaline, Argyle began to plan how he would set up the new Ubiquidyne presence on this earth... 13, did they call it? Yes, Earth 13. He would forge a completely original cover, original in that it was made up by him, and no one else. However, anybody that knew anything about Ubiquidyne could easily unearth the truth.

After all, they would sell similar products, and the company would be called... Wizardyne. That should work, now, shouldn't it...?

***

Next time, we join our program already in progress, as we are introduced to the ultra-capable Agent Deathmonger, who is deeply embroiled in an investigation of the insidious Knights of the Moral Majority.

While these heinous criminals hide behind the façade of Christian piety, they are actually plotting the overthrow of the United States government! Can our hero maintain his impartiality in his investigation of these fiends, or will he instead destroy their organization utterly?

***

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