Terminal A, Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport
7:34 P.M. local time
“…REPEATING, THE FEDERAL AVATION ADMINISTRATION HAS LIFTED THE INCLEMENT WEATHER GROUND STOP AT DALLAS/FORT WORTH INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. ALL PASSENGERS SHOULD HASTEN TO THEIR GATES IN ANTICIPATION OF DEPARTURE. OTRA VEZ, EL ADMINISTRATION DE AVATION FEDERAL…
You mentally shove the latest in the endless stream of public announcements into the background, along with the other myriad distractions of a modern airport surging back into motion, intent only on reaching Gate 3. They’re just announcing the bleeding obvious, after all: a look out the windows would reveal a few peeks at the sun setting on the twin Cities of Texas, suggesting the thunderstorm was losing some teeth….finally.
While you might have been initially delighted that your divine patron apparently dropped the case to send you first class, that was pretty much the only thing to go right so far today. Multiple delays, this “Ground-stop” due to bad weather being only the latest. Questioned extensively by TSA and/or Customs regarding the Relics in your luggage, and having to gin together excuses on the spot. Having a seat mate insistently inquire whether you’ve found Jesus yet. Now you just want to get to Memphis, meet whoever if is you’re supposed to “learn the trade” from, and go to bed already.
A buzzing comes from your pocket, and you pull out your phone to see the text confirming that your flight is boarding. Or perhaps, you should say “your new phone.” It was included in the envelope with the letter ordering you to ditch the original plan and get to Memphis right fucking now, instead of a month from now as originally planned. It was a sleek, large, modern phone, taking design cues from several on the market now, but not quite matching any of them. On the back case, is a design sporting a set of hieroglyphics reflecting on a river floating below. Staring at the reflected images reveals a word: iTeru.
Around the same time that it mysteriously appeared, your previous smartphone mysteriously vanished, with all efforts to search for it (either physically, or via Find My RoboFruit or other such apps) proving fruitless. But no worries, all of your contacts, data, etc. mysteriously transfered over to the new phone, no intervention on your part necessary. Frankly, you’re not certain if you should me more concerned about this fact, or less.
You reach the gate just as the attendants announce first-class boarding — not many of you this time, from the looks of it. But as you’re waved through, and head up the jet way into the narrow-bodied plane, you feel your teeth on edge as you sense a familiar power around you.
Others like yourself, perhaps?…