I wandered around the camp. Nobody stopped me. Nobody did anything but look nervous. Some observations:

1. There had been a fire. Several fires, actually, I kept finding more scorched areas as I investigated. Patches of the jungle were blackened, withered stumps. I found the remains of what must have been tents; the plastic pipes that had held them up were melted and bent. Rolls of the tent material were haphazardly piled near a stone wall. Was someone going to rebuild?

1. Worn orange wires criscrossed the camp. They led to outdoor lights lashed to trees with plastic zip-ties. I found a few of those, and also a loudspeaker that presumably one could bellow through to issue commands to underlings.

1. The stone buildings were very old; they were pitted and full of holes, and when the breeze kicked up they moaned like huge stone flutes. The architectural style was diet gothic; not a lot of the little ornamentation you see on gothic buildings, but the basic silhouette was the same. I wondered who’d built this stuff and why.

I found lots of places to hide. The ruins were full of crannies, and I found one fully-operational stone tunnel I could crawl in. And the jungle was dense, but it had passages one could duck, climb through and vanish into. Very nice.

During one such expedition I lifted a nest of dried leaves and found a lighter like you’d use on a gas stove or grill, old and a little rusted, and a dirty plastic bottle of Kingsford Odorless Lighter Fluid. I covered them up again so whoever had put them there wouldn’t get suspicious, but I knew about them now. Very VERY nice.

Three towers surrounded the island. They were rough piles of dark stone: tall, skinny pyramids. They looked out of place, very different from the other architecture here. The triangle they formed had the island at its center. Hmm.

I found a baseball game. The young men ran about, throwing a worn-out-looking ball with loose stitching. When the ball was in the air its leather hide came partially loose, causing it to spin erratically. The players had an aluminum bat that had seen better days, but I wanted it for my own use. Phase Two might benefit from head-bashing, though I would prefer to avoid it as head-bashing wasn’t in my skillset.

It seemed pretty high-school normal; there were even some girls watching and clapping on occasion, over there under the trees. They weren’t playing the game themselves. Why were they associating with jerks? Typically incomprehensible behavior.

“Batter up, yeah? I bet you’re wondering why nobody leaves,” said Dr. Jeff Harrigan, appearing beside me like a chess piece dropped onto the board.

I looked up into his tiny ball-bearing eyes. He was a little taller than I was, and it was obviously something he enjoyed. I didn’t say anything.

“They’re devoted to my cause, that’s why.” Big grin, inviting questions.

“What cause is that?”

“Making a new world, one mankind can move to when the Earth is finally depleted. What did you think?”

“I think you’d have started doing that by now. I think you’d be the richest guy ever if you did that. But here I am, and here they are.” I jerked my head at the game. “And nobody back home knows. We’re all missing, aren’t we? Abducted. Nobody even knows about it, though. Do you have something going in on the media to keep it quiet?”

He smiled a little, cold and smug. “Always so direct. No, you haven’t been abducted. This is all perfectly legal. You’re still there.”

“I am? How?” I was falling back on the fiction I’d consumed: movies, games, books. “Is this a simulation, am I in a VR coffin, something like that?”

He grinned. “Nope. You’re literally still there, walking around, doing tiktok dances and eating avocado toast, whatever young people do these days. You’re just a copy. There’s still an Owen moping around on Earth, just like there’s one here.” He gestured expansively at the players. “All of them, and you. All still there.”

I processed this. It made sense; I remembered no transport here. No boat ride, no spacecraft or wormhole portal or anything cool and sci-fi. I’d been holding my phone, using the App, and here I was. It had been instantaneous. It was also absurd for any number of reasons, of course.

“I bet you’re wondering how,” he said.

I watched him.

He grinned. The grin faded slightly as he saw I wasn’t going to bite. “Magic,” he said. “The physical laws here are different. Think about it; if magic were real back on Earth, it would be the basis of entire industries, entire civilizations. We can do that here, and make a new start. Think about it.”

I swear this part is true: he faced away towards the horizon and gazed into the middle distance. “We can save humanity.”

If I’d been afraid of him before, it was doubly so now. Dramatic speeches are a red damn flag. But I couldn’t keep my dumb mouth shut. “What’s keeping people from leaving?”

“Leaving?” he said irritably. “Don’t you see the benefits of this?”

“I want to leave. Is there a job I could do to help your cause, one where I could get on a boat and explore?”

“No no, it’s too dangerous by far. I’d be an irresponsible leader if I let anyone go out there.” He looked to the left as he said it, not meeting my eyes.

Liar. But Harrigan was interested in our exchange, I could tell. Perhaps nobody else was snotty to his face. Fair enough. “You owe it to us. You stole us, didn’t you? Tell me why.”

He scowled. “Science is its own reward, Owen. But I’m also going to save the world. Humanity can’t keep going like it is.”

“An exploration team could find things to help humanity, then,” I said. There was no use, clearly, but why not badger him? Like I said: he seemed to like it. “You say magic is a real item here. What if you explored and found a cure for cancer? Or another civilization? I mean, this is another planet, isn’t it?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Not quite. Close but nope.” He smiled wistfully. “I’d forgotten about this, with you. You just want to leave. I don’t want you to die out there, Owen.”

“Appreciate it. So what’s the goal? Do you want to set up a colony here?”

“It could happen,” he said, warming to the topic. “Do you want to know how?”

It was a fair question. But I’d read a lot of history on my own time. “Who’s already here? Who will we be exterminating?”

His mouth drooped at the corners and his nose went up. “Virtue signaling isn’t welcome here.”

“How about this: will everyone be able to come here? Every human being?”

More mouth drooping. Apparently these were good questions.

“Well?” I pressed him. “Everyone? Or just certain people? Certain types of people?”

He turned with his decisive coat swoosh again. “It’ll getting dark. You don’t want to be out here; report to the men’s tent.” And off he stalked. I wondered where his quarters were; I hadn’t found anything that looked like the Boss Guy Fortress.

I didn’t want to sleep in the men’s tent. Young men are dangerous, foolish and cruel. But it had to be tried; I needed to know a few things. And the tent full of murderous young ladies probably wouldn’t welcome me.

The strutting, preening men were led by one Sean, who had been mentioned by Dr. Jeff Harrigan as my point of contact. A middle-manager, perhaps.

The tent was full of conversation I found perplexing: they were honestly trying to find ways to look fashionable in their cheap uniforms, finding ways to look good to the nearby murderous women. Or for one another.

Nobody discussed escape or resentments or shared any prison craft, like sending secret messages or making a dessert with the meager supplies at hand. Because this was a prison.

Nobody mentioned the disappearance of the aggressive fellow I’d watched Mandy haul to the sea. It was simply not being discussed. Very firmly.

Sean introduced himself to me. He was a burly specimen with a low forehead and a crewcut, mid twenties, a little older than everyone else here. Clean-shaven, muscular, pale of skin with freckles. Oddly familiar. Did I recognize him from something? Was this a reality show, in the end? Would he be complaining to a camera crew about this later?

His face was unpleasantly handsome, with eyebrows handcrafted for cruelty and a weapons-grade chin.

“The Doc told you to ask for me,” he said. “Let’s get you on the fishing crew tomorrow.” He stuck out a hand. I shook it. I didn’t like him.

I faded away as best as I could; I didn’t take the cot Sean had offered just yet. I sat on the rumpled plastic floor with my back to the wall of the tent and watched.

They argued, joked and laughed. Pranks were played. Wrestling occurred. At one point the wrestling got a little more violent than it should have and Sean broke it up. He stood over the two panting combatants and angrily informed them they were gay, among other things he probably found insulting.

Sean caught my eye. "Hey, new guy. Get over here."

I hesitated, but his tone left no room for argument. As I approached, he slung a meaty arm around my shoulders. It was heavy and his body odor was making my eyes water.

"Listen up, everyone," Sean barked. This is Brian. Brian’s joining the fishing crew tomorrow. Make him feel welcome, okay?"

The other guys eyed me with a mix of curiosity and wariness. One of them, a lanky kid with brown skin and a mop of curly hair, piped up. "Fishing crew?"

Sean's grip on my shoulder tightened. "Part of the job is setting up gear. Armand, we talked about this."

Armand quickly shrank back into the crowd.

"Anyone else got something to add?" Sean asked, his eyes sweeping the room. Silence. "Good. Brian, you got any questions? Now's the time."

The crowd of young men zeroed in on me. Faces blank, or hostile, or haunted. Might as well go for it. “How long have you guys been here?”

Sean answered when nobody else would. “I’ve been here longest, about six months. The Doc brings in a couple new people every day.” He spoke loudly, to the entire room.

They watched me and Sean. Mostly Sean. I don’t know people very well, but I detected no fondness from the group. Sean was surrounded by terrified subordinates, not friends.

“Will we ever go back?” I really did want to know. Maybe returning home wasn’t my thing, but what about everyone else? “Is this where we live now, all the time?”

All around the tent, eyes widened. The complete lack of eye contact was somehow intensified. I had my answer.

“I’m going to leave,” I said matter-of-factly.

I heard an indrawn breath from somewhere. Not quite a gasp. The arm tightened around my shoulder. “Doc needs us here,” Sean said.

Shut your mouth, he was saying. Quite clearly; the indications on his face, the thinning of his lips, the lowering brow. His pale skin was reddening, little crimson patches on his cheeks.

I should stop asking questions in front of his peer group, that was becoming quite clear. He was regretting that he’d asked me. Stopping this would be wise. I should sit back down.

I asked: “Who was the girl today? At the other tent. She took someone to the beach.” My voice was stronger now.

I’d thought everyone was quiet before. Now a genuine funereal hush descended. The group went hollow-eyed and despairing. I watched as Adam's apples bobbed, nervous swallows all around. No eye contact: not just with me or Sean. Nobody looked anyone else in the eye. The name of the girl had cast a spell.

“You’re good for now,” said Sean. He shoved me away into the group. “Time for bed, let’s hit it tomorrow, Brian and everyone else.” He trudged off to the other end of the tent.

“Leaving,” I said again before sitting down. “I’m leaving and I’m taking whoever else wants to go.”

Silence again. None of them would look at me. “Don’t try it,” someone whispered. That was fine; I really didn’t want to take anyone, as I have mentioned previously.

My cot creaked and wobbled. No blanket.

It got very, very hot at night. The jungle outside sent suspicious noises through the thin walls of the tent. Rustling, as if things were lurking about. A screaming noise, nonhuman. Like a hunting bat but much lower in pitch. I hadn’t seen any animal life here during the day.

I tried to sleep. Four times I was slapped in the face. When I woke, someone had pooped in one of my shoes.

Not a fan of people.