11:03 29/03/2587 – (8734/654/24/76)

Nish rubbed her eyes, she had spent a week on that transport, and while not unpleasant, her eyes strained slightly at natural sunlight. The sensation passed, and she took in the departure office.

It was a sterile area with large windows, letting the beauty of the outside shine in. It was designed with elegant curves and marvellous statues, displaying natural scenes and wild creatures.

A few people were stationed at desks, but most of the documents were processed by automated terminals; they were simply on standby in case something went wrong.

Speakers sent out calming music interspersed with the calls of animals and information for the arrivals.

“Welcome one and all to Minagerad, the galaxy's largest biological preserve. An entire planet given over to the conservation of majestic flora, fauna and fungi from across the galaxy, Deathworlds excluded, of course,” the speaker explained; the last phrase was made with a slight laugh, and many people in the crowd laughed with it.

“You are no doubt anxious to start exploring the world, but first, you must get booked in, settled in your accommodation and finally given the orientation so that you can enjoy a fun and safe time on Minagerad,” the speaker added.

“Please make your way to a free terminal in an orderly line; if you have any problems using the terminals, do not hesitate to use the V.I. assistant or ask our dedicated and highly skilled employees,” the speaker stated.

“Mommy, when can we get going?” Pista asked, tugging on one of Nish’s longer arms.

Nish looked down at her daughter; like all Tufanda, she had two large oval-shaped eyes. Those adorably oversized orbs stared up at her.

“Soon, it’s almost our turn at the terminal, she explained, gently squeezing her daughter’s hand.

“I’m hungry”, Pista stated bluntly.

“I know you are; we’ll get something to eat once we’re outside,” Nish explained, gently stroking her daughter's antenna with her own.

As she turned her attention back to the terminals, she saw that one had just become free and that she was next in line.

Nish stepped forward, but her daughter tugged on her arm and said, “It’s not our turn, mommy.”

“It i…” but Nish’s sentence was cut off as she walked into something.

Nish was nearly knocked off her feet as she looked around for whatever she had just walked into. As something just below her peripheral vision moved, she had the rare honour of looking down at someone.

Tufanda were one of the shortest sapients in the galaxy, and though a half dozen others were smaller, Nish had rarely interacted with them.

The tiny creature looked up at her; it was bipedal like her but possessed only four limbs, two arms and legs instead of her four arms and two legs.

Its head was significant for its body size, but that was relatively standard for sapients, a few species had incredibly dense neurons instead of oversized brains, but that was rare.

The person had no features to speak of, no mouth, eyes, nose or… and then it clicked; they were in an environmental suit. That could only mean that their body was incredibly fragile and needed constant support, was this tiny creature from a Class 1 Habitableworld/Class 1 (H)?

“Mommy, everyone staring,” Pista explained, she quickly glanced around, and everyone was indeed staring at them.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Nish explained, waving her hands back and forth in the typical Tufanda display of regret. “I could have killed them if I was going any faster,” she thought, a small nugget of guilt building up inside her.

“That’s alright, we all make mistakes,” the small lifeform replied; Nish was relieved that the person was so forgiving and that their suit was evidently incredibly durable. There was also its voice; though speakers projected it from the confines of its suit, she was astounded by the melodic, almost song-like quality; each word seemed to flow into the next.

“Are you unharmed?” the sapient asked.

“No, I am fine,” Nish replied, once again amazed by their voice.

“Good,” the sapient replied, “Now, if you will excuse me, we are holding up the line; I hope you have a pleasant day.”

Nish looked behind her, and it was evident that once they knew everything was alright, everyone Nish and the unknown individual had held up wanted to get on with the check-in. She turned back, slightly embarrassed, to find that the tiny being had already wandered off, using the vacant terminal Nish herself had intended to snatch.

“How had they moved there so quickly?” Nish thought as she watched the person leave the atrium. She spent so much time thinking about it that Pista tugged on her arm and said, “Mommy, we’re holding up the line.”

Once again embarrassed, she went for the same terminal her potential victim had used, not for any real reason; it was simply the closest one.

As Nish punched in her details and those of her daughter, she realised that they had used incredibly formal language. That was usually a sign that the person speaking was still picking up galactic basic; they had probably learnt it on their journey here; maybe this was their first trip off their homeworld.

The screen told her she was good to go, and she left the building; the stranger was long gone by now, and even if she had been inclined to seek them out, that would have made her a creep. As she took lungfuls of fresh air, a thought occurred to her when she had struck the individual; it had been like walking into a lump of concrete.

That also made her realise that there could be another explanation for their whole body suit, not to keep them safe, but everyone else instead. That could only mean one thing, a Deathworlder.

***

Gabriel sighed; he had only just gotten here and was already in an altercation. At least this one was not his fault. He sighed again, his speaker offline so no one could hear him; it didn’t matter; all he needed to do was get to his lodgings.

As he weaved through the crowd, he noted how easy it was to move; Minagerad had 25% less gravity than Earth, and he could tell. He doubted that carrying his luggage would have made any difference, but the service here was excellent, and it had all been sent to his apartment ahead of schedule.

He received a few looks from passers-by; Gabriel felt it was either the suit or his size, both of which were understandable; everyone seemed to have enough courtesy to assume he was fine, though, rather than stick their noses, or nose equivalents, in his face.

Gabriel glanced at his P.D.A. most people had a V.I. installed, but Gabriel felt it was creepy to have your electronics speak to you. Also, it did not sit well with him on a moral level, he knew logically that it was not sapient or alive, but Gabriel felt it was a slippery slope.

His maps told him he was just a few minutes away; at this rate, he would have just enough time for a quick shower, a drink and some stretches. He needed to get to orientation by noon; then, he would be free to explore the entire planet and have a year to do it.

Gabriel had been planning this for quite some time, years of saving, planning, and pulling in a few favours. He had not gone cheap either; he had a penthouse in one of the best residential towers in the city.

Stolen story; please report.

Usually, it would have set him back hundreds of thousands, but Deathworlders were not ordinary visitors. By galactic law, the planet needed to provide accommodation on par with habitableworlders, which meant a penthouse that went for chump change.

That little fact meant he could afford an entire year here, and he was going to make the most of it.

Gabriel found the building; an impressive, elegant structure composed of transparent aluminium and carbon nanotubes.

The lobby was large and elegantly furnished. A few individuals reclined on couches, seats and giant cushions, either waiting for family and friends or thinking about where they would go next. A clerk stood at an elegantly curved wooden desk.

Gabriel approached them, a large octopedal batlike creature; they had eyes, though small and beady, like small obsidian pebbles. They stood far larger than Gabriel, and he felt he must look ridiculous standing before the large desk.

The alien did not notice him; they were busy working at their computer. “Excuse me,” said Gabriel.

The alien looked up; their small eyes searched for where the song-like voice had come from. “Down here,” Gabriel said.

As they peered over the desk, Gabriel saw a lanyard dangling from their neck. There were two forms of writing upon it; one they assumed was their native tongue, and the other was in basic.

“A pleasure to meet you, Shupp. My name is Gabriel Ratlu; I have a reservation,” he explained, noticing the surprised look on their face when they realised that Gabriel was not a lost child.

“My apologies,” the alien stated, typing what Gabriel supposed was their name in the machine.

“Ah yes, here you are, Mr Gabriel Ratlu, staying with us for over one year, and you are in the penthouse,” Shupp went silent as she read the words; she quickly glanced at the tiny lifeform and then doublechecked the results.

They came up precisely the same, and she decided it was best to check with the guest before bumping it up the chain of command. “It says here that you are in the Excelsus suite; is that correct?” Shupp asked.

“Is that the suite custom-built for Deathworlders?” asked Gabriel.

“That is correct, sir,” Shupp replied.

“Then yes, that is my suite,” Gabriel said dryly.

Shupp saw no problem with this, the guest had been informed, and while they looked far too delicate to be a Deathworlder, she was well aware that looks could be deceiving.

The standard procedure was to give the guest their key and let them be on their way, but Shupp had always wanted to see the inside of the Excelsus suite, and this was her opportunity.

“If you will follow me, sir, I will guide you to your room,” Shupp said, picking up a keycard from a secure box and exiting the reception area.

Gabriel followed Shupp and was mesmerised by the complex way they moved; it was like watching a conveyor belt loop around on itself; it was hypnotic in a way.

Shupp led him into a vast glass lift; fortunately, there was a large touchpad that stretched from ceiling to floor; all one needed to do was tap the screen once, and the interface would conform to your height.

“Would you like me to do it for you, sir?” asked Shupp.

“No, thank you, I’d best get used to it now,” stated Gabriel.

“Very well, we will need to be on floor 110,” Shupp explained.

Gabriel pressed the button, and the lift lurched; his stomach was filled with a strange sense of vertigo. Gabriel had never been comfortable with lifts, not scared exactly; he just did not like the feeling he got whenever he was in one.

Fortunately, he was not so consumed by the sensation that he forgot to look out at the city; it was breathtaking. The architecture blended the synthetic and the organic. Vast apartment blocks studded with trees and flying animals soared through the city while buses and trains ferried people to and fro.

There was no dull concrete or ugly steel here; no, the area had been built with form as well as function in mind. Gabriel saw people dining in restaurants, playing in parks and off in the distance was Minagerad’s zoo, a zoological and botanical park the size of London, containing thousands of species from all over the galaxy.

“Welcome to Minagerad, Mr Ratlu,” Shupp said, with a warm expression on her face.

***

Gabriel stepped through the threshold into a large room, or it would have been large if Shupp had not been present; the eight-legged bat person took up a considerable portion of the space.

“Now, I would just like to offer a reminder that due to your homeworld, you will need to decontaminate every time you leave your room,” Shupp explained.

A little light turned green, and the door opened into a vast apartment complex. The room was expertly furnished, and everything was suited to his proportions. The only exceptions were the doors and halls, which needed to be large enough to let hotel staff and emergency services in.

“All furnishings have been designed with Deathworlders in mind, and even your strength will find them difficult to break,” Shupp explained. Gabriel chuckled; the idea that humans were in some way exceptional was rather comical to him.

Shupp did not respond to his laugh, seemingly utterly unaware of its meaning.

“You will find the gravity controls by every door frame, next to the light switch; however, if you would prefer voice controls, you may set them up yourself, using the step-by-step guide provided,” stated Shupp, gesturing to the touchscreen by the front door.

“Do keep in mind that if you have guests over, they will be required to wear a full face mask to prevent infection,” she said as Gabriel peered into the bedroom. He sighed; the bed was colossal, making a kingsized look puny by comparisons; it seemed the furnisher knew that just about everyone loved giant beds.

“I will,” replied Gabriel as he walked to the large windows; they reached from the floor to the ceiling, allowing an unobstructed view of the city below.

“The windows are tinted, allowing for total privacy; visible, ultraviolet and infrared can not look into it,” Shupp explained.

“I notice that there is no balcony,” said Gabriel, pointing towards the sheer drop outside.

“We apologise, sir, but… considering your nature, a single bacteria you carry could cause an epidemic that very few could tolerate; therefore, your room is kept sealed from the outside.

“I understand, and my name is Gabriel, not sir,” he stated, looking up at the bat woman and into her beady eyes.

“Thank you, Gabriel. Do you have any questions?” asked Shupp.

“What about meals? Considering my….” Gabriel gestured to himself, “Condition.”

“Room service will provide any meal you request from our kitchens; we even have Deathworlder chefs that can cook food most would find unbearable; it will be sent up in an exclusive dumbwaiter and delivered to your kitchen”, answered Shupp.

“If you would prefer to dine in a more social setting, we have a special restaurant on the 51st floor; as you can imagine, it receives very little business, and therefore the service is excellent,” she added.

“Finally, as previously mentioned, you have a personal kitchen; therefore, if you would prefer to cook your own meals, ingredients can be requested from the tower's larders and sent to you,” Shupp said.

“You’ll just send me ingredients, no extra cost?” asked Gabriel, raising an eyebrow and then rolling his eyes once he realised that she could neither see it nor would she understand what it meant if she did.

“This is a penthouse suite, Gabriel; you’ve already paid for everything unless you request anything illegal,” Shupp explained.

She then realised that what she had just said could be perceived as an insult, so she quickly added, “I only mention it because certain items that would be completely pedestrian to you could be considered contraband on Minagerad.”

Gabriel nodded in agreement; that did indeed make complete sense.

“Anything else?” asked Shupp.

Gabriel shook his head and replied, “Nothing that comes to mind; if I have any more questions, I will ask.”

Shupp was about to leave the room when she turned and asked, “Gabriel, might I make a request?”

“Very well,” he said, waiting patiently.

“If it is not too much trouble, I would like to wait in the room as you turn the gravity up; I have always been curious was intense gravity was like,” she explained.

“Can’t you just do it in your own home?” asked Gabriel.

Shupp chuffed, which Gabriel assumed was her species' equivalent of shaking their head, “due to safety concerns, it is illegal to have your gravity over three per cent higher than your homeworlds baseline.”

“However, many visiting Deathworlders positioned the local government to have that rule rescinded for them. So you can push the gravity up to twenty per cent higher than your homeworld, as long as you understand that no party upon Minagerad is legally responsible for any injuries you might incur,” Shupp explained.

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and approached the nearest console; several options were available, curtains, lights, temperature, airflow, oxygen content, humidity. There it was, gravity.

Gabriel pressed the icon, shaped like a planet and a new interface came up, a simple slider with a positive sign on the left and a negative sign on the right. There was also a little marker on the slider, which indicated Earth’s gravity. He pushed the positive sign, and slowly the gravity started to climb.

He could feel the weight slowly build on his joints, making it more difficult to move. Gabriel enjoyed it, low gravity was fun and all, but there was something comforting about having a proper weight on your shoulders.

“Wow, you people really live like this all the time back home?” asked Shupp; Gabriel could see her legs buckling slightly under her newfound weight, and her breathing was laboured.

“No, this is Galactic standard 1g, which is about twenty per cent less than my homeworld,” Gabriel explained, and he began to tap the screen again.

With each tap, the gravity increased, and Shupp’s body struggled more and more with it. She gasped, and Gabriel realised he had pushed it too far; he immediately jabbed the slider and dropped the gravity to a state even lower than when they first entered.

“Sorry about that; I should not have let it go as long as I did,” Gabriel said, approaching the woman, making sure she was alright.

“No, no, it’s fine. I asked you to do it; I shouldn’t have tried to act tough,” she replied, rubbing what Gabriel supposed must have been sore legs.

Shupp took a few deep breaths and said, “Thank you, I have something to impress my family with now.”

Gabriel glanced at the clock and realised he had eaten up too much time. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you are unharmed, I need to get ready for orientation.”

Shupp also became aware that she had left the front desk unattended and immediately headed for the exit, “I am so sorry; I should have realised,” she said, apologising profusely.

“It’s fine; I still have plenty of time,” he explained, trying to put her at ease.