Kurtis's ears twitched at a high-pitched sound. He rocked forward and was struck by something angular across his stomach. He recoiled quickly, banging his knees. Then his eyes started working and awareness spread to his limbs; he registered that he was sitting. Red, striated by eyelashes, peeked through his rapid blinking.

“Agh.” Kurtis rubbed his knees. “What the heck?”

The table was high gloss red. He pushed back, squinting and making to stand, but the chair was stuck. He tried to slide out from it but could barely move an inch. He and the chair were invisibly restrained: some serious Star Trek shit.

The walls were red and too close—and, terrifyingly, had no door. Kurtis swung his tail forward and held it. At least the chair had an open lower back space. He’d squished the new appendage too many times those first few weeks. It wasn’t quite getting kicked in the nuts, but it was close enough.

Kurtis could feel the hairs start to prickle as the walls closed in. His stomach tightened. He could see his tail starting to puff up in his mitt.

No, no, no, Kurtis thought, scrunching his eyes closed.

He hated when his tail did that. People didn’t need a reminder of what he was and how he was feeling. It was like the universe had singled him out for an extra dose of the sick joke they were all in.

No, killing everyone he knows and plucking him from his sad little life isn’t enough. Let’s stick some cat parts on him too. Kurtis sighed and rested an elbow on the table.

His life before hadn’t been much, but at least it had been his. He went to work, came home to his apartment and his cat, had a few friends online that he gamed with. He sometimes waved at the cute girl downstairs. She’d smiled back once.

What would she think of me now? She’s probably dead anyway.

Kurtis knew how people kept looking at him. A lot of the time they just stared. But then there were the ones looking for someone to blame, or someone to belittle. The rational part of his mind knew that it was more about them than him.

He could hear his mother’s lecture from childhood: “Don’t let them see they’ve hurt you. Their words are more about them than you.” Yet those words still tore into his heart, his soul—they always had—and now his fur didn’t let him hide a thing.

Kurtis itched to get up, to escape. His stomach turned over. There was no exit and, even if there was, he couldn’t get out of the damn chair. He let go of his tail and slammed his fists on the table. “Why is the damn room red?”

The table, the chairs, the walls, the floor, the ceiling—everything was fucking red. The owner of this room needed interior design help badly. Kurtis was always on the architecture side, but they had designers at his firm, and he’d seen enough to know that this was horrible. Hell, people on the street would know that.

Joke’s on you. Should’ve hired my firm before you blew up the world.

A man appeared, suddenly standing in front of him, short and bald with a white beard and dark gray robe. Kurtis narrowed his eyes. He was sure the air had been empty a moment before. He leaned closer with a partial hunch, then jumped when the figure finally moved.

“Greetings,” the stranger said stepping to the table. Purple light flashed in a design on his sleeve.

Kurtis opened his mouth, then paused considering his words.

“Earth traveler?” the man said.

Kurtis wasn’t quite sure it was a question. The man seemed to be reading from a piece of plastic, like the clear duotang folders he’d used for high school reports. An empty report, Kurtis thought, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

The stranger narrowed his eyes and Kurtis straightened his expression. Normal people didn’t get his jokes half the time, and he was already convinced this man had zero sense of humor.

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Kurtis cleared his throat. “Um. Hi?” He raised a quilted blue oven mitt in a tentative wave. “I am Kurtis Aoki. Who are you?”

“I see that.” The man scanned the plastic. Then he finally looked up. “You may address me as Tertiary.”

Kurtis nodded and the man leaned into the table. A hazy reflection stretched across the shine, a pale blob for his head and then a dark streak of robe. Purple flared in it, then disappeared.

“We are here regarding case number…” Tertiary glanced down at the plastic. “1425778. Please confirm you were a resident of F-311246.3.”

“Is that,” Kurtis croaked. His throat had gone completely dry. He swallowed and then forced out the word, “Earth?”

Tertiary nodded, still studying the plastic.

Kurtis studied him. The man’s appearance reminded him of Murl’s. His vibe, however, ranged from neutral to cold. Maybe it was just that they were both short old men and both wearing robes—his brain working on overdrive to explain things. He was definitely not in the castle. Those rooms had doors.

Kurtis nodded back.

“Please state in words for the recording.”

“Um, yes?”

What the heck is going on? Kurtis tried to retrace his steps. That usually worked when he lost his phone or his keys. But the problem was that he didn’t recall stepping anywhere. He wasn’t sure how he got in this chair let alone this room. It was the cat parts thing all over again.

Kurtis let out a sharp breath. He had to stand. He had to get out. He pushed against the chair with his hands and against the floor with his sweet ass Chucks. Still stuck. He could feel the hairs on his neck and tail bristling.

Would anyone come to rescue him, Kool-Aid Man through the wall? What would his party think of his disappearance? They hadn’t looked for Anika. They’d thought Sharkie and Manuele were dead. Would they bother with the weirdo cat-man? They already had too many people for the Megabowl. Kurtis's stomach churned.

“Sorry about that,” Tertiary said. “Protocol. You understand.” He raised his eyebrows.

Kurtis stilled and met the stranger’s eyes. “Why am I here?”

No one was coming. Sure, they let him be in their party, but did they really care? Val had defended him at the abbey. But those guys had attacked her too.

“Why are we all here?” The man chucked. “But here, in this room? Well, we have some important matters to discuss.”

“Okay…” Kurtis said, ears lowering. “And then what?”

“And then, it’s up to you.” The man smiled—a predator’s grin.

Kurtis's instincts flared. It felt like the dogs from the caves when, on top of the small spaces, the universe had piled on another fuck you. There was something about that smile but he couldn’t explain it. And he was sure his fur was fucking massive.

Kurtis closed his eyes for a moment, seeking inner calm. Then he opened them, nodding slowly, hoping to get it—whatever it was—over with.

“You have been selected as a potential Orator for the trial. This meeting is to determine whether we will be proceeding.”

“Okay?” Short answers seemed to be the safest.

“While we do have other candidates, I am authorized to extend a particular offer, contingent on you performing well.”

Tertiary paused and looked at Kurtis, but Kurtis just stared back, waiting.

“If you perform to our satisfaction,” the man continued, “we are prepared to offer citizenship among one of the member worlds.”

“What?” Kurtis blurted.

“You would, of course, need to agree to certain confidentialities. Including your origins and lack of… physical being. It’s an irregular situation, you understand.”

The white-bearded man pulled out the chair opposite Kurtis. The sound of it scraping along the floor filled the room.

So, that one moves.

Tertiary sat down. He set the plastic page on the table and, at that angle, Kurtis could see faintly glowing symbols.

“You like this?” Tertiary must have caught him staring. He held up the page. “Standard issue plasti-sheet. You can have as many of them as you like if you proceed with our offer.” He set it back down in front of him.

“What is it you want me to do?” Kurtis asked slowly.

“Ah, yes. We would simply like you to recount some of your experiences in the Preserve 1 Continuance. That’s all. Specifically combat experiences against other travelers. In our legal system, it is important that we hear first-hand accounts.”

And there it was. Kurtis took a deep breath to prevent blurting something out again.

“We understand you have had several such encounters and we feel we can offer you a uniquely valuable token of appreciation. We would ask that you limit your testimony to this topic and in exchange…”

Tertiary waved his arm to the left and a moving image appeared. The video hung in the air. It showed a sunny city market full of people, milling about colorful stands of fruit and cloth.

Holy moly. A third of them had ears and tails. Kurtis gaped. His heartbeat quickened.

The people meandered around stalls, speaking with vendors, shopping. They popped in and out of buildings. It looked like normal, happy life. And they were like him.

“What is this?” Kurtis breathed.

“Just a live feed from Fivepoint. It’s one of the more popular Continuance cities among the Deinya and Ecoyemia. Your citizenship would, obviously, be with one of those.”

“I could go there?”

“Correct.”

“It’s digital?”

“Correct.”

Kurtis's heart fluttered up near his collarbone. The people continued bustling about the market like it was the most normal thing in the world. There were other people like him. A lot of them. He wasn’t alone.

Kurtis gripped the edge of the table. “How would it work?”