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It was strange, getting absorbed by a gigantic red light field wasn’t as painful as Chio thought it would be, in fact, it wasn’t all that different from floating through an underground tunnel, a hazy crimson one leading into a spear-tip chamber full of white dots pretending to be windows.
Wait…was this…real?
An actual room?
She shivered as the white dots stopped the window impersonation and moved out into the general airspace of the chamber, some of them forming pupils the same shade of red as the dot that had just absorbed her.
Seemingly reading her mind, or the discomfort segment of it, the white dots vanished, all of them, just like that, and then so did the chamber. For a second, perhaps two, there was nothing but Chio and a black void.
Don’t stare into it, she thought, or it might stare back.
Or was that an abyss?
Yeah, an abyss. Didn’t matter though, void or abyss, it was pretty much the same thing, and then it wasn’t a thing at all as the black nothingness gave way to pale green tiles and smeared mirrors and…a line of cubicles that…looked kind of like the ones she’d been hiding in earlier.
No, not kind of, they were exactly the same.
She was back in the toilets, on the second floor of Lucky Luck Plaza.
Wasn’t she?
Before she could get out a ‘what the jun?’ the red dot re-compartmentalised, detached from her head and morphed into the asteroid sales rep who’d thrown the pink crack bag at her face and fled to the air-pod, and, at that point, she realised it wasn’t absorption at all, it was transportation.
A floating device to get her from A to B, with B being this weird, incredibly detailed simulacrum of a bathroom she’d almost died in.
She shivered again, and then so did the asteroid sales rep.
This is not a place you know, flashed into her head, either psychosis or some form of telepathy from the alien. Probably the former. Jun.
You do not feel comfortable here?
It was confusing, disorientating, the words definitely weren’t spoken but, somehow, it felt like they had been. There was that kind of firmness to them, that level of real.
Same with her own thought of no, this is a random toilet I almost got shot in.
The asteroid rep appeared to understand this. He, or they, nodded his or their head and the tiles started to disintegrate into photonic dust, the particles swirling for a moment or two before reforming themselves into a much more familiar place: her bedroom at the Allex Dorm.
It was uncanny, even more authentic than the toilets; there was the bed with the pagan towels on the pillows, the shelves with all her favourite serials – Void Galaxia, Purple Muon Castle, ALF, Zone Cook Mechanism – plus the philosophy books she never read, the Xxun poster on the far wall, the massage stick on the side, the photos of her and the bitch who could go jun herself, which, okay, at least meant these red dot alien things behind all this weren’t omniscient cos she’d got rid of that shit three months ago. But still…her own bedroom…here, like this. Ninety nine per cent accurate.
Is this more comfortable? transmitted the asteroid sales rep, his/their head tilted to an almost ridiculous degree.
Better than the toilets, she thought, sitting down on the beanbag the asteroid rep’s glowing red arm was pointing at.
The asteroid rep returned his/their head to the original position and seated themselves in front of an old-style wooden desk she’d never seen before.
Would you like to continue in this mode, or switch to oral?
Sorry?
Most humanoids prefer oral as telepathy unnerves them. But we like to start this way as a form of self-respect. It is our planet, after all.
Planet?
To be more precise, it is under our care and supervision. To a certain degree.
Degree?
Please, don’t repeat my own words back to me. It is slightly irritating.
Sorry, I didn’t-
Though not uncommon in this type of communication. Yes, we should leave telepathy behind. Please, use your vocal chords from this point on.
Err…
Don’t worry, they still function.
Okay.
And don’t be afraid to ask intrusive questions. We do not have the concept of shame. It is redundant, along with other humanoid flaws. Now, what would you like to know?
Chio thought of a single red dot and then multiplied it by a hundred. Then switched to the green swirly thing that had brought her to this place. The figure who’d disappeared on the other side of the volcano. The idea that this bedroom and planet and everything else was nothing but an incredibly advanced simulation suite on Triton. Or something worse, a halfway state between-
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She reached up, rubbing the bandage still clinging onto her head.
‘Am I alive?’ came out of her mouth, almost apologetically.
‘Obviously.’
‘I mean…this isn’t a…kind of halfway, purgatory type of-…’
‘No.’
‘Okay…’
‘And it is not a simulation suite either. Outside of this simulation suite we are currently in. Sorry. Bad phrasing. This is a simulation suite. The planet beyond it is not.’
Chio nodded, shifting the beanbag back a little.
‘You are still uncomfortable,’ replied the asteroid sales rep, watching her move.
‘Err…not really.’
‘Yet this form is familiar to you, correct?’
Chio squinted at the figure opposite, unsure exactly where this was going. ‘You mean your face? This body?’
‘According to our scans, this face is one you have seen recently, and it produced a feeling of satisfaction during the interaction.’
‘Yeah. For about half a second. And then you ditched me.’
The asteroid sales rep stood up in four movements that were like poorly executed spasms and moved side-on round the edge of the desk, which, now that she looked at it properly, had a little Neptune globe and a sign with red capitalised text that read, ‘THIS IS YOUR LANGUAGE.’
Reaching the beanbag, he/they placed a glowing hand on her skull and started mumbling words that were either mangled Urdu or his/their own native language, Icelandic perhaps, though she really doubted that’s where this was.
Too warm for one thing.
‘This form should be more soothing for you,’ said the asteroid sales rep, who, as she looked up, flashed deep red and rearranged himself/themselves into the bearded, baseball-capped form of Sataan, her fellow shifter and self-proclaimed good friend.
So good that he hadn’t answered her emergency call, and probably wouldn’t even notice she was gone until he needed something.
‘This form is more soothing for you,’ the red-outlined Sataan repeated, dipping his head and raising it again slowly, the kind of patronising nod they used to do for those kids who’d escaped from the Indigo Ya sex cult on Sedna.
‘It’s not the worst,’ she replied, cutting off a second nod.
Red Sataan returned to the other side of the desk and seated himself on…nothing. Thin air. Chio hadn’t realised at first, but now she’d adjusted her position on the beanbag she could see that there was no chair and no sign of any discomfort as her interrogator…pseudo-Sataan…bent down and acted like something tangible was there.
Red dot physics, she told herself, slouching back and looking at the Neptune globe. Then added ‘sorry’ when she remembered the alien knew telepathy.
No acknowledgment back.
Just continuous staring at her forehead.
‘You are psychologically adept,’ said Red Sataan after a short while, slapping his right palm against the side of his baseball cap.
‘Err…should I answer?’
‘Falling from 10,000 feet did not result in a heart attack.’
‘Yeah, only cos I thought it wasn’t real.’
‘Seeing a red dot float before you did not lead to screams or attempts to harm it with large pieces of grit.’
‘Again, not really praise.’
Red Sataan removed his hand and placed it on his neck.
‘To be honest, I was in shock for most of what just happened. Throwing grit didn’t even occur to me. Are you okay?’
Her hand half reached forward as Red Sataan pinched flakes of dry skin off himself, then retreated quickly when his tongue came out and tried to lick his own chin.
‘You’re not used to this body, are you?’
‘Thirteen thousand, four hundred and seven humanoids have been processed by this unit. The last one was four days ago, by your Triton time.’
‘There are other humans here?’
‘Pinching and licking are abnormalities and will happen from time to time. Please wait.’
Red Sataan’s tongue kept prodding at his chin construct, and his hand kept pinching neck skin…until suddenly they weren’t.
It was odd, more like a jump cut than a natural retraction.
‘Are there other humans here?’ she asked again, wobbling a bit on the beanbag and putting a hand on the desk to steady herself. ‘Is this Iceland?’
‘This question has been answered. Iceland is irrelevant.’
‘That means it’s not-…we’re not there. Right?’
‘Now, let us address your skills. Please do not be hurt, the following assessment is not intended as a personal attack.’
‘Okay…’
‘You have beginner language ability in Portuguese and Urdu. Your native language is Tritonese, a derivative of English and Cantonese and not appropriate in this setting. You can throw knives at stationary targets in low-pressure situations. One time four years ago, you took several lessons in jujitsu. Despite this lack of ability and experience, you have recently taken part in amateur fights to earn credits. This speaks highly of your endurance levels. However, the bandage on your head suggests you are low on spatial awareness and enemy assessment. Your telepathic and telekinetic levels are zero minus one. Food knowledge is negligible. Mesmerism level is two point six in everyday situations and seven point eight when selling baking powder in pink colouring. Flight and floating are beyond your physical type. Other fringe skills include running, treading water, locating the clitoris, using ice-boots on a sublimating ice surface, sleeping, blocking out things you do not wish to hear, basic first aid, beginner physics, tolerance of exotic life forms, and occult-geomancy.’
Staring at the thing spouting the bullshit seemed immature so Chio looked down at the beanbag instead.
‘Based on this criteria, you are accepted into the arena of Gaarrr and will be placed at a moderately safe base exit point. Please stay seated as the translator implant is embedded. Thank you.’
‘Wait…what?’
There was a fizzing noise, like a can of Huxx being opened, then, as she turned to try and locate the origin of the sound, a drill appeared, floating with a slight wobble in the airspace next to her temple. Before she could say what the hell's that, Red Sataan had grabbed it by one end and placed a very cold palm on the side of her head.
‘Take the green ball on the table. It will help to nullify any pain.’
‘What?’
‘You have five seconds.’
‘Did you say pain?’
‘Three seconds.’
Chio muttered three seconds back to herself and then realised it was now two seconds, and, after that, everything was a complete blur as she swiped at the green ball and moaned in discomfort at the soft thud hitting her temple.
Can’t be the drill, she told herself, picturing a seven foot long drill sticking out of her head.
‘There, all done.’
‘No…’
‘The residue effect will dissipate in a minute or two, after the implant has completed the embedding process.’
Chio pushed away from the simulacra of her so-called friend, looking up at the drill with blood dripping off its tip.
‘What did you do to me?’
‘From this point on, you will be capable of communication with any type of alien on Gaarrr. With the sole exception of slang or gutter speak.’
‘That’s why you put a drill in my brain?’
‘You may also remove your bandage at any time. All wounds have been repaired.’
‘Repaired? You just put a-…’
‘This concludes the assessment. Please stay on the beanbag and measure your breathing circulation as things are rearranged for your exit. Do not flail or throw furniture. Thank you.’
Red Sataan pushed his tongue out again then pulsed into an all-encompassing red light, before putting itself back together as a floating red dot.
Or orb.
Whatever the hell it was.
‘You can’t leave yet…I don’t know anything. I don’t know where this is, what’s happening. Change back, bring Sataan here…’
Chio leapt up from the beanbag and tried to reach across the desk, but that was changing too, merging with the red dot and the rest of her bedroom simulation wasn’t far behind.
‘What do you mean, accepted? Accepted where? What the jun is Gaaarrrrrr?’
The line of RRRRRs trailed off into a soundless red abyss as her arms vanished and her voice gave up, and even her thoughts were saying, red empty space, how comforting, why not?
And that was that.
Gone.
Into the void once more.