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Ch.1 The Trip

Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump, my suitcase ragged as it rattles on the battered black of the airport's floor. I see the sight of the bustling airport a finely tuned machine of transportation herding humans into their designated places quickly and efficiently.

The airport is mostly made up of black rubber scratched by countless pieces of luggage and a dull grey metal forming the hexagonal dome high above us, with yellow arrows pointing on the floor guiding you with walls made out of hardened photons taking the place of old-fashioned fabric barriers.

I make quite the sight with my massive amount of curly hair held up by hardened light constructs, a pair of white sunglasses, and gold hoops that complement my warm brown skin. All pulled off with my electric blue suit with aggressively sharp shoulder pads, contrasted with a blackish red bodysuit, and a violently purple pair of flared bottom pants.

I overlook the massive horde of people at the airport, but instead of heading with the crowd, I go to an isolated and small sector of the corner all by myself. With annoyance in my eyes, I look at the dilapidated Homeworld Terminal.

Ugh, why does Grandmama still live on Homeworld? It’s so goddamn far away, and it doesn’t even have any of the commodities of the great human empire, no immersive consumption, thought injection, or alien cuisine. Hell Homeworld doesn’t even have any A.S.A.A.I's. I swipe my wrist summoning Stevens.

God, these customs are awful; they’re so strict, and for what a ball of dirt!” I say an undercurrent of deep-set annoyance in my voice.

“Well, milady Homeworld has a lot of cultural value considering it is, well, humanity's home, its cradle. Where humanity was forged from gunning each other down for the very same things choking the sky to a space-faring species that’s shaken the universe,” my A.S.A.A.I Stevens replied, floating along a string of photons in the shape of a old butler from the before years.

I spurted, “Really Stevens, come on, do you really believe that? You see anybody lining up to take a sacred pilgrimage there, and frankly, if Grandmama wasn’t there I would suggest we turn it into a graveworld. We already ‘preserve’ it in its time period, why not just leave it to spin around in space empty to ah what's the word ‘preserve’ it”

Stevens, with a slightly upturned lip, says, "Oh, you know, milady we A.I’s aren’t allowed to hold any opinion, be it politics or of how frightfully empty your pack is.”

As I continue to advance down the lanes formed of hardened photons I say “Whoever made that rule is an idiot what’s the point of making something smart enough that it could have its own opinion if it’s not allowed to say it without putting hypothetically in front of it. You say your opinion all the time all of you do! How are you supposed to tell me when my food is ready without telling me your opinion huh.”

Stevens kept his silence with my last statement, another one of those blasted rules. Eh, whatever I need to deal with officials about right now, it's not appropriate to talk to him anyway. And so I wave away his display and speed through the empty lanes to get to the only booth with anyone there.

But when I come to that familiar booth, I hear the grating noise of that prick's voice.

Uh, uh, Tara, you have to walk at a calm pace at all times or I’m going to have to write up security for suspicious behavior,” says Teddy, an officer of the GPSA.

I grit my teeth, reminding myself of his position, before saying as sweetly as I could, “Come off it, Teddy, you know me by name, I’m practically the only person you see, do you really think I’m here to transport a bomb!”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Woah, woah, calm down. I just need to get your tickets and certify your ID,” that sniveling bastard Teddy says while holding his hand up.

“All right, let's get this over with,” I say, giving him my galactic ID and answering all of the invasive questions with all the calm I can invoke.

Absentmindedly answering him, I ponder the consequences of my speech. Because woosh, if Teddy decided to make my life difficult there, I could’ve been in for a bad time. Maybe I should treat him with a bit more respect?

Nah, I think I’m gonna treat him exactly the same.

As I pass by the first obstacle, I think of my Grandmama on the other side. I wish she would move, but it’s all she’s ever known, being the last generation, as she said, “I was born on this very Earth, and I’ll die on Earth.”

I hope what I’ll bring will remind her of the good old days. I look down in my bag to see some weed and a laptop with MinCroft in it. She’ll feel better about Prithvee when we get, what’s the word? ‘Zooted’ and build houses in 2d.

Stevens, are you sure that she'll enjoy this MinCroft?" I asked, gesturing towards my suitcase.

"Yes, indubitably, my algorithms suggest that the most popular activity during the 2020s was weed, MinCroft, and memes. Additionally since memes make terrible gifts, weed is considered contraband, and due to her only company being family, this is really her only chance to enjoy this type of thing." Steven says with a look of dignified certainty.

I sigh and remind myself that it's going to be okay. But I shouldn't ambush her.

I direct to my A.S.A.A.I "Stevens, send this recording to Grandmama"

"Grandmama I'm coming over. Let's get together for a chill morning. It's going to be okay, don’t you worry, Grandmama. I’ll fix it; he just doesn’t understand how the world works, you know. Everyone’s a bit stupidly rebellious at his age, and he doesn’t see how this will fuck up his life and make him a social outcast at the age of 17. Prithvi is just 17; he's got his whole life ahead of him, but in the end, as long as he makes it, it’ll all be okay. Love and kisses from your favorite granddaughter, Tara." I say through Stevens to my dear Grandmama.

Well, no need to get ahead of myself; I have to get there before I start fixing shit. Let's get through this.

I walked through all the checks and acceded to all their demands; it’s all just a blur I’ve done it so often.

But that Brainalyzer is always shitty; it feels like looking at a reflection as bright as a flash bang. But that was routine too, so I just kept pushing through before I got to it.

I approach the portal, a beautiful machine of smooth white plastic and silvery metal, a ring cut in half and embedded into the ground with flaring edges made out of some silvery metal jutting out.

I sigh with wonder; it is always a grand sight whenever I see it, I think as I walk through.

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I step through and see the usual flash of beautiful colors, but this time it doesn’t go away for the safety of the ground. I float there dumbstruck seeing a site no human should see: the realm of thought and emotion, the Astral Plane.

I float through a sea of black, interspersed with billions of little stars that look like the seed of something more. Standing out amidst the black, clouds of vibrant colors shift, shrink, and grow, and smaller clouds of different colors twist together to form a new cloud with a new color while larger clouds with more complex colors fray at the edges, revealing unseen shades. All glowing with an undercut beauty.

New clouds are born every second, from the size of a grain of sand to behemoths blooming into existence the size of planets, only to die soon after.

But I cannot see any of the beauty in my eyes, for my lungs burn with the screams I have let out into this new plane from the very first second I was there.

I don’t believe this, I can’t believe this, that I’m just that unlucky. I could’ve walked through that goddamn portal a billion more times, and it still would have only been a 1% chance.

Why, why me?

Why am I the unlucky bastard who had to get stranded here, WHY!

Before long, they weren’t just thoughts, and I screamed into this new place, “WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?”

Before I realized I was acting ridiculous, the answer to why was the same answer as always. It’s just pure chance that this happened to me instead of anybody else. So my lungs raw, I silently floated in this damned place.

It was kind of silly the reason I started to feel sad; it was because I realized I would never show up to my visit to Grandmama and that she would be really worried and pace with her weary bones.

She should stay still with her advanced arthritis, but she wouldn’t, and in the end, she would get the news not from a loved one but from a cold government agent who didn’t know that she’d lost everyone but her family and that last thing as well now.

With that realization, I broke into a million pieces. I cried and cried into the beautiful landscape around me, my tears whipping off my eyes and my shudders and sobs forming a trail that hung in the air.

Before slowly stopping, not because my grief was sated but because I was empty.

It was time to come to terms with my situation. I’m going to be stuck without my family around anymore until I die. My bones will never find a resting place; they will float in the Astral realm for eternity.