It was a normal morning for Jennifer Brand. She let her daughter’s geriatric golden retriever Larry out and watched him walk in circles to find the perfect spot to do his business, sipping at her coffee as she stood at her back door. Then she went through the motions of her light morning exercises – a little yoga, a little jog on the treadmill – before jumping into the shower. She could hear her phone going off just before she stepped under the steaming water, but opted to ignore it for the moment. She dressed and prepared for the day, picking up her phone to check the time and see who had called earlier. Her daughter’s flight was arriving this morning, and she was going to pick her up from the airport.
Frowning, she saw that she had received several text messages and had missed calls from three separate people, two of which had left voicemails. A sense of dread crept up her spine – one of the calls had been her ex-husband as well, and he rarely called unless it was something dire. Swallowing hard, she opened her text messages and read them quickly, then immediately moved to the living room, grabbing the remote to turn on the television. She flipped to the news. She half hoped that it was some sick coordinated joke arranged by her friends and her ex, but she knew that was a vain hope even before she watched the flashing banners declaring the breaking news. News that Stateside Flight 5071 had suddenly and mysteriously gone missing overnight.
Flight 5071. Cassandra’s flight.
She stood, staring at the television, her mouth opened into an ‘o’ of shock, until they displayed pictures of the flight crew and passengers. Even as a small grainy image on the television, Cassandra was instantly recognizable to her – her shoulder length wavy brown hair, her high cheekbones that she had inherited from Jennifer, the heart shaped face. She felt like she had been punched in the gut, and sank into the nearest chair – a comfortable loveseat. Larry ambled over to her and placed his head in her lap, staring up at her with large worried eyes, and she absently stroked his fur as she continued to stare at the screen in shock. “I guess you’re staying with me a bit longer,” she said to him, and he briefly wagged his tail and whined. It wasn’t an important detail, but for a moment it was all her mind could grasp. But after a few more moments, she shook her head to rouse herself.
She ignored the other calls and texts that she received after that, not really wanting to speak to anyone. She knew that going to the airport wouldn’t help – they didn’t know anything yet, and there was nothing for her there. There were already people out searching for signs of a crash, and she didn’t think she was going to make a difference there either. Instead she sat, glued to the news or searching for details online, the day disappearing into a blur of focus like it used to prior to her retirement. She reached out to a few contacts she had that could tell her if the authorities had any information beyond what was reported to the news, but everyone seemed stumped. There was no crash site. No wreckage. The flight had reported hitting some mild turbulence, and then had disappeared from radar and, as far as anyone else knew, from existence. It had happened somewhere over Utah, or perhaps even crossing into Nevada. The entire plane and everyone and everything on it just… disappeared.
In the afternoon, the story shifted as people began to wonder if the plane had somehow been hijacked by terrorists. But that idea never seemed to pan out. She heard from one of her contacts that security had been amped up for certain areas just in case, but no one had claimed responsibility or come forward with demands or threats. The only unusual thing about the flight was that it carried a famous actress, and some of her fans seemed to think she’d been kidnapped. But it seemed excessive to take an entire plane full of people just to target one individual.
Hours later, no one had found anything, heard anything. If the plane had been hijacked, it may have been landed somewhere, but what could have made that particular flight a target? Jennifer sat, frowning as she rubbed at her temple and considered everything she had researched, hoping to find some missing piece to the puzzle to why she wasn’t picking up her daughter from the airport today. She heard Larry whining at the back door, and jumped up to let him out, feeling slightly guilty at having ignored him for so long. Had she even fed him? She glanced at the time, and once he came back in, she fed him and made sure he had enough water, then let him up onto the couch to fall asleep halfway on her lap.
Feeling the need to act in some small way, she set about returning phone calls and emails and text messages into the evening, letting others know that she had heard about the disappearance, that she had not received any more news, accepting well wishes and condolences (which she thought were a tad premature as there was no confirmed deaths, but what else could be expected, given the circumstances?). Eventually she fell asleep on the loveseat.
The next few days were a similar blur and a growing mystery, a constant topic on social media and television.
What had happened to Flight 5071?
No one was certain how long the website had been streaming before it was discovered. It was a simple page, displaying four simultaneous streams at once, set 2×2 and centered. At the top of the page, a bold font simply stated, “Ye are to be judged by they.” It garnered attention first and foremost when people began posting links to it on social media with screenshots showing Peyton Hobbs, the actress that had been on the flight, in one of the streams. “Is This Legit???” one famous post had asked when sharing the link.
The other three were quickly identified as well. Alexandra Saint, a young girl also known as AlphaSaint to her stream and game review fans, and another passenger on Flight 5071. Lucas Kearney, a man in his mid to late 30s who worked as an accountant in Reno, also a passenger of Flight 5071.
And again, her face visible on another screen, identified by internet sleuths. Cassandra Murphey. A passenger of Flight 5071.
People began recording the Stream almost immediately – there was even one individual that had a backlog of it mere hours after it had started, and their uploads were considered the source authority. Many people tried tracing where it came from. But no one was able to figure out where the site was hosted – or where the Stream originated – or what had happened to the other passengers of Flight 5071.
There was a theory that the missing plane was a publicity stunt by Peyton Hobbs to advertise this elaborate internet show. The other passengers and flight crew were looked into as people attempted to justify the theory, assuming that the rest of the missing were actually acting as behind the scenes crew or extras. But the families of the missing were very real and very vocal about their desire to find their loved ones.
The streams were pored over, watched and rewatched. People began to devote entire channels to summarizing and analyzing the events of the Stream. People began to screencap moments and turn them into memes. There were even people making music videos or compilation reels of themed moments, with much of the initial focus being on Peyton and Lexie since they already had an established fanbase. Though as the Stream continued, fan pages and trending tags for Lucas and Cassandra also started to gain traction.
Jennifer became obsessed with it all. She had never been a fan of internet culture, that had been a thing of Cassandra’s generation, but she found herself immersed in it now. There was a lot of focus on Cassandra too – why was she alone? How had she become separated from the others?
There was also analysis and complaints on why those specific four had been chosen. Was there something that linked them? Some people griped that it was all Americans, until it was pointed out that while she could do an impressive American accent, Peyton Hobbs was actually Australian. Some griped that Alexis Saint acted “too white” or was simply a token. Some people complained that there was a lack of LBGTQ+ representation. People from Eastern countries complained about being judged according to the actions of Westerners. The only real link anyone could find: all four had been on Flight 5071, a flight traveling from Ohio to Nevada, a flight that had disappeared and taken 132 people in total with it. And no one knew what had happened to the other passengers.
People also spent a lot of time theorizing and arguing about what the page meant. If it wasn’t real, where were they filming? How were they keeping a 24/7 stream going and adding all the special effects so quickly? Was this all prerecorded? And more terrifyingly – if it was real, what did it mean that they were all to be judged? Was that everyone in the world, or just everyone that watched the Stream? What did judgement entail? What was the time frame of this judgement? Some people thought God was behind it. Others thought demons, and spoke forbiddingly against watching the Stream in fiery sermons. Quite a lot thought aliens. Given the presence of magic and elves in the Stream, some thought it was the Fae. Everyone had a theory.
Jennifer watched every moment she reasonably could. She started to coordinate her sleep schedule to Cassandra’s, and would still watch summaries of the past several hours once she woke. During slower moments of her daughter’s day, she would watch videos of internet commentary about the Stream. It felt strange. Once, she had been so focused on her career that she hardly had time for Cassandra. She had missed a lot of important moments when Cassandra had been growing up, had missed a lot of time at home in general. It had driven her husband away (though she suspected, given how many times he had married after their divorce, that he would have cheated eventually anyway). She often guiltily thought of herself as being a bad mother, and that guilt had been a part of her decision in moving to Reno, to follow Cassandra and be closer to her.
But even here in Reno, she sometimes had trouble being there for her daughter. They were completely different people. Cassandra always had her head in the clouds, was always reading books with dragons and magic, and playing games that held little to no interest for Jennifer. She made a point of meeting up with her daughter for dinner and quality time once a week, but it was often an awkward and quiet occasion. They didn’t like the same foods, could rarely agree on a movie they would both enjoy watching, and had such vastly different life experiences and interests that they could rarely a hold conversation that lasted more than a handful of sentences.
Now though, her entire life had become about Cassandra.
There were practical things to take care of as the days went by. Stateside Flights had a lawyer reach out to clarify the terms of refunds on missing or crashed flights, but Jennifer didn’t much care about the money and succinctly told the lawyer to go to hell. Since it was clear that Cassandra wasn’t going to be able to come back anytime soon, Jennifer closed out her utility accounts and spoke to her apartment manager, who was understanding of the situation and didn’t require funds for the broken lease. She had Cassandra’s furniture and belongings moved into storage, which she was quite happy to pay for, and she had Cassandra’s car stored in her own garage. Instead of the temporary set up she had for the dog, she stocked up on supplies and touched base with his vet to let them know she was now his caretaker.
Soon, another lawyer reached out to her – strangely, an estate lawyer. “I’m reaching out to you in regards to your daughter’s will and a letter that she left for you to read in the event of her death.”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, my daughter is not dead,” Jennifer had said tersely.
There was an awkward pause on the phone. “Yes, it’s been a very unusual situation. It’s especially hard for the people who are still technically missing, but in regards to your daughter’s case, given that we know where she is and that it’s been stated in the Stream that they will not be able to come back to our world, we’ve decided to execute your daughter’s will. She left behind a series of letters for friends and family, and has left the remainder of her monetary estate to you as well.” Jennifer frowned, and agreed to meet at the lawyer’s office, setting up a time and date she would be by, and wondered why her daughter had been so prepared for her death.
After completing all the legalese and securing the electronic transfers through the bank and finally closing out the remainder of her daughter’s accounts, Jennifer found herself sitting in her car, staring at an envelope that had Cassandra’s familiar sprawling loop on it. Cassandra had quite a bit of money in her account – apparently she had cashed out the 401k that Jennifer insisted she open, which is how she had been paying for the extra time off work and the trips she had been taking lately, including the one to visit her father. “For Mom” the envelope said. She tapped the envelope a couple of times, feeling conflicted about reading it. She saw Cassandra on a screen every day, would see when or if her daughter did die. A part of her wanted to rip the letter open and read it immediately, but another part of her felt that it was supposed to be saved for Cassandra’s death.
And Cassandra wasn’t dead yet.
Once she was home, she put the letter away so it would be safe and out of sight, and no longer a temptation. She decided she would reach out to her financial advisor the next day and see about having her daughter’s money put in an account where it could at least usefully accrue a decent interest. Because her daughter wasn’t dead. And she intended for her to be able to step back into her previous life if she did find a way back.
Jennifer also decided she would do what she could to help.
In her life before retirement, she had worked as a handler in the CIA, had even been a field agent once upon a time before starting a family. She still had security clearance and contacts in the office, and she intended to use them. If there was already a team researching the Stream and attempting to find the missing passengers, she intended to be a part of that team.
And if there wasn’t one yet, she intended to spearhead that initiative.
mehryment 