My parents moved to California for the earthquakes. I’m sure that sounds strange in the Early 21, but not any stranger than getting some mystical email from the future. The quakes keep us free.
In about five years, the San Andreas will shake off the tech boom like a dog shakes off fleas; swallow up whole data farms and rattle the skyscrapers until they’re as stable as a boxer’s teeth. Billions lost overnight, market crash, same old, same old. The wealthy wunderkind move their lineage east to ‘fix climate change’ from Music City bunkers, and the fuckers find a way to freeze the plates. Except the largest; she wouldn’t be tamed — until now.
You are one of 1,000 agents selected to protect the Pacific Plate by locating and eliminating these rogue time aliens. You will recognize them by their arrogance, their antipathy, and their obsession with primitive inebriation. Good luck.
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