Chapter 3
Avery
I’m in absolute luxury.
My version of it, at least. I’m in my childhood bedroom, before I got angry and smashed a few things after my parents died.
There are two things here that are out of place. The amazingly comfortable beanbag chair I’m sitting on and the table that produced a bowl of my mother’s chili with a generous heap of oyster crackers. My absolute favorite.
I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled it.
“Wow,” I say, leaning back. “The only thing that would make this better is a nice cocktail and a French vanilla cream vape.”
As if by some sort of sci-fi magic, a cocktail appears on the table.
A red lace martini. I used to drink these with my best friend when we got into that fancy bar downtown with our fake IDs.
Back when people still checked IDs before pouring a drink.
It went from criminal to pour one to almost criminal not to pour one real, real fast. Everyone still breathing deserved something to take the edge off.
Before I can reach for the drink, a disposable vape appears. Brand new, still in the wrapper. I look around the room, a little concerned, but unable to pass up the opportunity.
The drink tastes amazing. The hits of French vanilla cream and nicotine are even better. I could get used to this. That demon could have fucked me if he’d told me this was what I got when he was done with his examination. Not really, but that’s how incredible this feels.
“Okay, magic room. What’s the catch?” I ask, taking another hit from my vape. “There’s always a catch.”
A seam of light appears on the floor. A screen rises, similar to the one Dr. Grix had, but much bigger.
It flashes once, then an image appears. Another demon.
This one is a woman, though, and she’s smiling.
It’s unsettling, because she looks like something straight out of literal hell, but it’s still a smile.
“Avery Thomas,” she says, still smiling, her voice softer than Dr. Grix’s.
“You were spared from the destruction of your planet. You knew it as Earth. You can just call me Sylvax, since that will be easier on your tongue. I’m your social worker.
We’re going to find you a suitable new home, based on the medical examination and the data we’ve collected from your blood. ”
“And my brain,” I mutter, looking around the room.
“Yes, your memories were scanned prior to your retrieval, and archived to use as needed,” she replies. “Now, as far as suitable new homes, you qualify for two of the A+ Premier Planets. Utopia 64 or Utopia 65.”
“Utopia? Okay, that… actually doesn’t sound bad. Um, what’s the difference between the two?” I ask curiously.
“Utopia 64 is close to the technology level of your planet, give or take a few decades. Utopia 65 is much more advanced. They discovered the trillinium compound much faster than most planets. Impressive, really,” she says, her smile widening.
“And the people? Are they… human?” I ask, gnawing the inside of my lip.
“No, but they’re close enough to be distant relatives. Close enough for you to be easily integrated into a life not much different from the one you were living on your planet, Utopia 93, which you called Earth.”
“Oh, wait, you mean they’re not really utopias?” I ask, raising a brow. “Cause Earth wasn’t… I mean, not really.”
“No planet is perfect, but these are the most similar to Earth that will take someone who is defective. They haven’t discovered interstellar travel.
They aren’t part of the Intergalactic Alliance’s sphere of influence, but they’re safe.
Crime rates on both planets are near zero, outside of the occasional bar fight. ”
Maybe being defective isn’t the worst thing in the universe. It doesn’t seem to have limited my options, if what she’s saying is correct.
“That’s not so bad,” I say. “Okay, well since I know Earth wasn’t perfect, which one is… I don’t know, is better for women? I mean, can I… meet a guy? Would we be… compatible?”
It’s a strange thing to think about, but I’m going to be very lonely, wherever I go. I won’t know anyone. I won’t even have a neighborhood bar, with a few people who remember my grandfather.
“There will be no compatibility issues. That was factored in when determining the best options for you. Their culture is very similar to your former home. There’s something called Cosmic Influence, which your species was centuries from understanding, but you’ll find many similarities,” she says, smiling warmly.
“Utopia 64 has a show called Friends, and two of the characters have the same names as the ones from your planet. Utopia 65 has a popular musical duo named Bad Roll and Jelly Bunny.”
“What… oh!” I say as it clicks. I sip my drink and take a hit from my vape as I consider it. “Can I sit here and ask you questions as long as I want, or do I just have to choose one immediately?”
“We allocate a reasonable amount of time for questions, yes,” she replies. “I’m happy to answer a few, but I do have other clients to attend to today.”
“Okay, you’re a woman,” I say flatly. “Which planet would you choose if you wanted one that treats women better than Earth?”
“Utopia 64,” she answers.
“Why not Utopia 65?” I take another puff of my vape and blow out a nice, relaxing French vanilla cloud.
“On Utopia 64, they passed laws for global equality over a hundred years ago,” she says. “Utopia 65 is still working on that, despite their technological advances.”
“Okay, and there are no horrible things going on that I should be aware of on Utopia 64?” I ask. “They’re not days from nuclear war or fighting subterranean bug people or anything, right?”
“No, it’s a very peaceful planet. Both of them are.
You will integrate well into either, but the choice is yours.
I will tell you this, though.” She smiles and leans closer, lowering her voice.
“The men on Utopia 64 will be much more to your liking as well. They’re very generous mates, based on the research in our file.
Very loyal. They don’t even have a word for cheating on their mate. ”
“Alright, then. Utopia 64 it is,” I laugh. “I’d probably be confused by all the technology on Utopia 65 anyway. What the hell is trillinium?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with, since you’re going to Utopia 64,” she chuckles. “Unless you’d like to change it before I finalize transport.”
“No, I’m good. Utopia 64. Lock it in,” I say, sipping my drink. “How long until I get transported there?”
“Let me see.” She pauses for a moment. “Forty-three days. You can spend that time learning about your new home. The history of Utopia 64 and everything you’ll need are available in the archives. You can access them anytime, by simply saying archives.”
“So, for forty-three days, I just… stay here? In my childhood bedroom?” I ask, raising a brow.
“Yes, you have been given a Provider. It will provide anything you ask for. If you are in need of assistance, say assistance. If it’s an emergency, well, yell loudly,” she says. “If you get lonely, AI Companions are available simply by saying…”
“Let me guess, AI Companion?” I ask, and the table hisses.
“What kind of AI Companion do you require? Male? Female?” a voice asks.
“No, no AI Companion needed, thank you!” I say quickly, and the table stops hissing. I look at the screen and smile. “Yep, got it figured out.”
“Very well,” the woman says. “Goodbye, Avery Thomas. You’re going to be very happy with your choice.”
The screen goes dark, then it lowers into the floor and disappears. I’m alone in my childhood bedroom with a… Provider. That’s apparently what the mysterious table is that produced my food, drink, and delicious French vanilla clouds.
Maybe forty-three days here won’t be quite that bad.