I wasn’t planning on publishing in December. Really. Wearing the Cape: Barlow’s Guide and the B-Files has only now finally taken up by the printer to produce the 240-page book (tons of detail about the Post-Event World, nearly 80 characters, etc.), and I’ve been focusing on the outline for the next Wearing the Cape novel while pulling together ideas for The Archon Files.
But this idea wouldn’t leave me alone.
Astra has met Santa in the course of her cross-reality adventures two books back. But of course he was only a Santa, not the Santa Claus of the Post-Event World, and Astra’s amazement at meeting Father Christmas seemed to indicate that what is her Reality Prime doesn’t have one. But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t get one; after all, the Post-Event World is becoming increasingly populated with people like Ozma. If she’s possible, anything’s possible.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that, sooner or later, Santa Claus was going to make his appearance. But I’d already written a Santa Story; writing another, even as a piece of flash-fiction, seemed redundant. So instead I decided to introduce the Santa Claus of Astra’s reality through an adventure supplement for Wearing the Cape: The Roleplaying Game. The players get a chance to do what Astra did; meet Jolly Old Saint Nicholas. Well, he’s not that old. Or that jolly, given the situation.
So Merry Christmas. Of course I’d love it if everyone who reads my books ran out and bought this little adventure file (you can find it here). But since a lot of you aren’t into RPGs, and $2.99 is a bit steep for just a page of background (all that will interest you if you aren’t interested in playing), here’s what you need to know about the Post-Event World’s new Santa Clause.
“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.”
The New York Sun, 1897
Before the Event, and for more than a decade after, the famous answer to young Virginia O’Hanlon’s question was a metaphorical truth. Not anymore. Three years ago, on the precise local instantiation of Christmas Day (defined as one second after true midnight, the second in the Earth’s rotation when that longitudinal slice of its surface is opposite to the Sun on Christmas Eve), homes across the world were invisibly and instantaneously visited, leaving presents and stockings filled with candy and toys. Or with coal. The types of toys and candy were all found to be culturally appropriate to each region and child, and analysis showed the gifts to be expertly hand-crafted, not industrially produced. None were more technologically advanced than wind-up toys, driven by clockwork and spring-driven mechanisms also of the finest sophistication and craftsmanship.
As the news spread—first through social media images of the gifts or coal left, then through the news as reporters quickly jumped on and broadcast the story—the full magnitude of Santa’s first visit slowly became apparent. It quickly became apparent that millions of homes had been visited in the night, with no evidence of any intrusion other than nibbled cookies and what Santa left behind.
Not all homes with children were visited, however. Far from it. And researchers carefully interviewing thousands of families across the world quickly determined the apparent parameters of the obviously Omega Class breakthrough phenomenon. All visited homes had three things in common; 1) a child in the home wrote some kind of message to Santa Claus and the message was “sent” in some way the child believed efficacious, 2) some kind of gift (generally but not always milk and cookies) was left for Santa Claus to partake of upon his arrival, 3) nobody in the household was awake to observe his arrival, nor were any devices in place to record his arrival.
Also, apparently Santa really likes fresh chocolate chip cookies. And snickerdoodles. He’s not so fond of oatmeal cookies. And yes, that’s just one of the factoids learned as everyone went nuts over the Christmas mystery. Santa Claus. Santa Claus.
Well alright, then. Adults shocked, kids not, and the next Christmas hugely widened the number of visits—a forgone outcome since the news of the first Santa’s Visit had spread around the world within days and researchers had tentatively agreed upon the necessary conditions for Santa’s Visit before January was over. Millions of children around the world had nearly a year to prepare.
So did the scientists.
Testing on the second Christmas was variously successful. From recording instruments turned on at different intervals after true midnight, researchers learned that the visit, where it happened, was entirely completed between the last second of Christmas Eve and the first second of Christmas Day. All the deposited gifts appeared only in that slice of time. From this, they posited that “Santa Claus” operated only in that moment of Real Time—possibly from an overlapping reality similar in nature to a speedster’s Hypertime. Several of the world’s most powerful Mentalist and Merlin-Types also focused their gifts on perceiving Santa’s Christmas Ride in operation on that second Christmas, either in transit or arrival. None were successful, and those that focused on undetectably perceiving his arrival blocked those arrivals as completely as an awake witness or recording device would have.
Compensatory gifts were provided to the disappointed children, and researchers began plotting a new line of investigation; if they couldn’t spot Santa Claus, whatever he actually was, in transit—well then they were going to go to the source and find him at home.
Of course the point of the whole adventure is A Meeting With Saint Nick, but don’t worry about what isn’t here; in keeping with a lot of the more mysterious beings Astra has met before, Santa remains mysterious even after meeting him. You get to tell your own story of exactly what he really is, which is how it should be—how dreary an explanation would be!
So Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and may God bless us, every one.
Marion G. Harmon