As an intra-trans-dimensional traveler, one of the first from the lovely and dying orb that is known colloquially as Earth I found it difficult to reconcile stepping through a tear in time and space and ending up in a small corner office with a walrus staring back at me. He wore a three button vest that did nothing to hide his rolling belly and looked to be in the process of shining his tusks with some sort of viscous unguent that dripped green and smelled of what one can only imagine concentrated sardines would. It was disturbing. I picked myself off the floor, still queasy from one small step. Noticing me, he toweled off his tusks and rifled through a small roll-o-dex looking device.
“Ah, yes.” The walrus had a deliberate and measured way of speaking, “Transfer number 9874329. You were expected earlier. Hmmm?”
“I ran into some trouble on the way to the Gate Station.” Riots. Anarchy. The collapse of civilization. Some trouble.
He didn’t respond to my question but pulled out a binder, flipped to a page, and began reading, “Dear Sentient Life-form,” At this point the walrus lifted his spectacles and furrowed his shaggy brow, staring at me and conveying that he had some question as to the validity of the opening statement, “we recognize that the transition to a greater understanding and ones place in the universe can be difficult, however, the Finder’s Guild is here to help. For a small tithe on future earnings we provide an Essence Crystal, a Book, and a free meal.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Yes, thank you, but where exactly is here?”
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
“Finder’s Guild sub-quarters on Iteration 77787. Would you like a cookie?” He pulled out a round tin and pried off the lid, showcasing biscuit-like waifs of cookies.
“Uh, sure. Thanks.” I bit into it, eager to sample the exotic wares of some mind-numbingly different culture. The cookie had the taste and consistency of a medium-grade cardboard.
“How is it?” The walrus asked, pen in hand.
“Stale.” I coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“Not included. Now that we’ve ticked one item off the old to-due list…” He leaned back in his chair and yelled “MIRANDA,” paused to give me a sheepish look and continued, “GRAB THE BOX”.
Miranda turned out to be an over-makeuped alligator lady in a revealing dress (my mind spent some time processing this) and she sauntered in with a small box and dropped it on the walrus’ desk taking up position to her bosses left and started staring at me with what I can only describe as a hungry look.
“He looks so defenseless. All pink and pale and clawless.” She said with throaty intonations and a brilliantly white smile.
I took a step back, doing my best to avoid looking at the evolutionary denoted apex predator, and peered at the walrus over the desk, “I have questions.”
He waved his flipper-hand at me and continued rummaging through the box until he exclaimed, “got them” and pulled out a beat-up leather bound book and a faintly glowing orange crystal. He held the crystal out to me and I took it. It felt warm to the touch.
“Well, use it then. I haven’t got all day.”
I looked at the crystal again. “How?”
“Absorb the essence.” He made the carry on motion. I glanced at Miranda, whose smile had only grown wider.
“Try holding drawing the heat into your body,” she said.
I wanted to respond, with what? Instead I envisioned myself absorbing the heat of the crystal. It worked. Some time passed while I writhed on the floor in pain.
When I came to there was only Miranda in the room with me. “The first time is always the most painful. Here.” She gave me the beat-up book and a small card with a series of numbers.
“My number.” The width of her smile carried promise as did the rows of sharp teeth, “I am supposed to introduce you to your Katar but I thought we would make an evening of it.” There were questions to be asked. I knew that. My mind still cycled the exhaustion and the pain. I let her show me out.