+++

In Trig’s mind, there were two, clear image references for a dorm.

No, make that three.

The first, a building of identikit box rooms for university students. The second, a polite alternative to prison cells. And third, the sixteen-bunk rooms Foxconn used to shove workers into in Dongguan and Fuzhou.

He was really hoping it was the first on the list, and his wish seemed to be realised as they stepped off another pod elevator [this one travelling sideways, according to Jemba, though there was still almost no sensation of movement] and emerged into a nicely furnished, gradually curving corridor with mauve, carpeted floor and warm amber-ish lighting.

‘Looks human,’ said Salvo, loud enough for both Trig and Jemba to hear.

‘Humanoid,’ corrected Jemba, stopping at the first door on the left and checking the number plate. ‘Or, to be more precise, Nabian.’

‘They’re humanoid?’

‘Peak humanoid if you ask them. Okay, this is 212…and we’re looking for 228, so…should be on the left-hand side.’

‘This ring is only for humanoids?’ asked Trig, trying to steer back to the first response.

‘For practical reasons, yes. Both levels, Bak and Kut, are designed specifically for Nabians, Terzoans, humans, Kontolians, Trv and, occasionally, Eek Eeesh who happen to be tied into a hologram host at that time.’

‘Huh?’

Jemba looked at Trig like he was four year old who’d just said fuck, then turned to Salvo. ‘Is that your reaction too?’

She told herself don’t say huh, don’t say huh, and it worked. She said nothing.

‘Look, I know this is all very new to you and your head’s still trying to wrap itself around everything, but word of advice. Don’t say huh when you hear something fresh. It annoys us. And makes you look infantile.’

Jemba finished his sentence by closing his eyes and jabbing his left temple. Trig and Salvo telepathically voted who should ask the obvious question, and Trig lost. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, inadvertently yawning at the end of it.

‘Processing.’

‘Huh?’

Jemba opened his eyes and glared.

‘What are you processing?’ asked Trig, quickly correcting.

‘Nothing important. Feedback.’ He looked down at his pad, and then at the corridor ahead. ‘Down here.’

Trig and Salvo dutifully followed, even though they were pretty sure they could find their own way to the dorm now that they knew the number. They listened and accepted the tangent as Jemba started describing the minutiae of the corridor furnishings, which apparently matched the concept of the station in general, at least the busier areas of it.

That concept, Jemba reminded them while checking another number plate, was compromise.

‘The lighting for example. On the main floor, as you may have noticed…or not, I don’t know…the lighting tends to be a variation of either red or green, as both colours are tolerable to all species. Of course, the Canni Tut see everything in varieties of monochrome and the Eek-Eeesh don’t see anything at all, unless they’re connected to another alien or hooked up to a hologram host, so, yeah, tolerable would be a meaningless term in that case. Basically, it’s tolerable to all species who process colour.’

Trig nodded, while Salvo stared off to the left side of the corridor. There was a box with the words danger: plasma manifold on it, but she wasn’t looking at that. She was thinking back to the tour. All the lighting they’d seen. Something wasn’t quite right with what Jemba had said. Ah, that was it.

‘What about the security place?’ she asked, coming back from the wall with one finger raised.

‘Ah, well-remembered. I was just about to mention…’

‘That had blue lighting.’

‘…that one. Yes, correct, the only exception to the main concept, and I’m sure you can guess the motive behind it.’

‘The Green fur guy likes blue?’

‘Green fur guy? Come on, I told you this already. Their name is Anga, their species is called Trv, and they don’t have guys or girls.’

‘Sorry…’

Jemba breathed out rough and spluttery, hit the side of his head again.

‘Maybe we should just get to our dorm,’ suggested Trig. ‘Then you can get some rest and-…’

‘Not the schedule.’

‘Hu-…sorry, what?’

‘This is not schedule-related. We’re making okay time. It’s just…doing this tour. It’s not normal for me. My matrix is…a bit tired.’

‘You’ve done quite well,’ said Salvo, moving her hand to pat Jemba on the shoulder and stopping when she saw him giving her side-eye. ‘All our stupid questions, the thing with our friend…saying huh a lot.’

Jemba grunted, taking his hand away from his head. ‘What was I saying?’

‘Just now?’

‘Ah, security lighting…that was it. Yeah, it’s blue for a very specific reason…’

‘To scare people.’

The hologram’s eyebrows shot up [or the holographic light that arranged itself into eyebrow shape]. ‘Ah, not bad. I guess you’ve had experience with security before, in your own country.’

‘Not their lighting.’

‘I see.’

‘But our police are pretty bad,’ said Salvo, a little rushed.

Jemba grunted again, only this time it didn’t sound like laughter. ‘All police are pretty bad. Unless you’re the part of the population they have to protect. That is, do you have property or not? Do you have wealth?’

‘You sound like Cav…’

‘Ah, this is an old, human road, I shouldn’t go down it, will just give me a migraine, even more of one. Cav? Who’s that?’

‘Our friend, the one who came here before us.’

‘Emma Goldman?’

Trig and Salvo exchanged glances, confused.

‘Emma Goldman, the name your friend used to register downstairs.’

Salvo raised her head and opened her mouth and let out an ‘ah.’

‘Remember now?’

‘The thing the curly wurly guy told us,’ she whispered to Trig.

‘I think they’re called Pos Pos,’ he replied, looking at Jemba for confirmation.

‘Jushta.’

‘Not Pos Pos?’

‘You talked to one of them before, you used their phrases…how do you not remember their name?’

‘I thought I did.’

‘Not even close.’

‘Wait,’ said Salvo, inserting herself back in, ‘who’s Pos Pos?’

Jemba clasped his hands together, clearly too exhausted to clap. ‘Okay, first thing you’re gonna do when you get in your dorm…which is the next door along by the way, that one there…first thing you’re gonna do is look at the alien profiles and learn their species names. Understood?’

‘Sorry, I’m still a bit disoriented.’

‘To be fair to Salvo, they do look a bit like a chocolate bar we used to eat,’ interjected Trig, ‘when we were kids. The lattice design…’

‘Asaaaaa. That’s their name.’

‘I know, I was just explaining why-…’

‘Of course, you’ll mispronounce it…like you did earlier, Trig, with all those pad phrases you’ve apparently forgotten, but that’s okay, they won’t mind much. And it’s a mile better than calling them a chocolate bar.’

‘I haven’t forgotten those phrases, I was just reading them off the pad,’ said Trig, folding his arms and then unfolding them when he realised how defensive it may look. ‘I’m not a memory master.’

‘Forget about that now, just focus on their names. That’s the important thing. Asaaaaa.’

‘Okay.’

Both Trig and Salvo went back to appreciating the corridor décor, especially the amber lighting. Long and twisting bulbs gripped to the wall, each with a different, individual design. Or, perhaps not each, but the ones they’d seen so far had that distinction. Maybe they were on a repeating pattern; ten or twenty original designs then start again.

Before they could start counting out the bulbs, they heard another Jushta exploding out from their right [which they guessed meaned ‘fuck’ or something similar]. They turned half back and saw Jemba shaking his head at them.

‘Did you not hear me?’

‘No.’

‘I said I want you to say it, practise. Asaaaaa.’

‘Sorry, we didn’t realise.’

‘Never mind that. Asaaaaa. Try it.’

‘Asaaaaaaaa,’ said Trig, trying to mimic what he’d heard.

‘No, too long at the end. Asaaaaa.’

‘Asaaaaaa.’

‘Almost.’

‘Asaaaa,’ tried Salvo, her mouth moving awkwardly.

‘Too short.’

‘Asaaaaaa.’

‘Too long again.’

‘Wah, this is insane…’

‘Okay, no need for wah, you’ll get the hang of it. Or maybe just make it simpler. Focus on their actual names. Yeah, that works better, and it’s what you’ll be saying most of the time anyway.’

‘Are their names easier?’

‘Most of the time, no. But they won’t bite you for it.’ Jemba stopped next to the door on his left and patted the number plate. ‘Ah, rainbow’s end. 228, your dorm.’

‘This door?’

‘I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.’

Trig muttered ‘just checking’ and started looking for the lock. He figured it would be electronic, possibly a slot, but there was nothing there.

‘You’re actually very lucky, being a pair. Most new arrivals have to share with a complete stranger…which has led to problems in the past…but you two get to bunk together. Ah, I forgot to ask, are you a team?’

‘Us?’

‘Obviously.’

‘You mean…are we a couple?’

‘Couple, team, lovers, a joined pair…whatever you wanna call it.’

‘No.’

‘Okay, well that could change in the future. Possibly tonight even, if you’re feeling isolated enough. However, if you’re resolute about this, and you still feel the need for company, there is an emergency hologram service available. Only for the first two nights though, and I should warn you that the hologram will be pre-programmed, not capable of anything beyond physical moves and the most basic reassurances. It’s okay, you’ll get used to it, it’s not that bad once you start talking to others, generic stuff like that.’

Salvo stared at him, waiting for the grunt.

‘Sorry, that all came out faster than intended. What I meant to say was, in short, there are holograms that can hold you or have sex with you if you need it. But only for the first two nights. After that, you’ll have to find someone real, or take care of yourself.’

‘I think I’ll just sleep, thanks.’

‘Okay, if you say so. But if you change your mind, the list of companions is on the screen by the side of your bunk. Let’s go in, shall we?’

‘I can’t find it,’ said Trig, still looking at the wall by the door, oblivious to the whole conversation that had just taken place.

‘Give me your wrist.’

Trig looked at his left and right hands, scanning for a hidden key or button.

‘There’s an implant embedded,’ said Jemba, gripping Trig’s left arm and holding the inner part of his wrist against the number plate. ‘You can’t see it, but the station tech can.’

There was a beeping noise and the door slid open.

Jemba walked in first, starting in on his introductory speech before stopping abruptly and shouting, ‘get out.’

Trig and Salvo heard the warning and moved back against the corridor wall. Possibly an over-reaction as they hadn’t even stepped inside the dorm. One of the amber light bulbs, or containers, wobbled a bit from the impact of Trig’s shoulder, but managed to keep itself fixed in position.

From inside the dorm, Jemba continued shouting, telling some unseen figure to get up, get dressed and find a different bed.

At first they couldn’t hear any replies, just a vague, mumbling noise, but a few seconds later, a second voice emerged.

‘It said vacant…I was tired, I came in, beamed myself…why are you shouting at me?’

‘It said vacant yesterday. What are you still doing here?’

‘I told you, Pol Pot, I was tired. Get out of my fucking face.’

‘Now we have to clean the bunk again…’

‘I was sleeping…’

‘…which I’ll have to explain, and be reprimanded for. Jushta. Can’t you just stay in your own dorm?’

‘If you want me to smash my dorm-mates head in, sure.’

‘Fine, go on a temp mission then.’

‘You’re not my mentor, I can do what I like. Where’s my jacket?’

‘On your foot.’

After a few more minutes of back and forth, a human man stumbled out through the doorway, hitting both sides like a drunk, then attempted to straighten himself up when he saw Trig and Salvo looking back at him.

‘Woh, fellow Terzoans…’

‘Humans,’ shouted Jemba, still inside the dorm.

‘Jushta. Human? Really? You look just like my ex-girlfriend.’ He glanced down at Salvo’s unzipped jacket, the t-shirt underneath, squinted at the koala with a leaf stuffed in its mouth.

Salvo muttered ‘perv’ in Cantonese and pulled her jacket tight, forcing the Terzoan man to shift to Trig. ‘Woh, this is bizarre. You look just like the guy who pinned my balloon.’

‘Did what?’

‘Glossed my childhood. Took my virginity.’

The last one made it through, but Trig continued to look blank as he was still processing the previous two. Glossed his childhood? Was that really how they said it?

‘First day residue,’ the Terzoan said, pulling his eyelids down. ‘Loneliness of a strange, new place. You know, if the two of you aren’t teamed up, and things start getting dark purple…come to dorm 274. I’ll help you out.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘I thought you’d say that.’ He turned to Salvo, putting a hand on his own chest and jiggling it. ‘What about you, tadpole?’

‘Not a tadpole.’

The Terzoan put his hands out, eight fingers, two thumbs, just like a human, and put the fingertips together, forming a roof shape. ‘In that case, you better go with the sleep beam. It’ll put you down for twelve hours straight, no nightmares. And whatever you do, don’t touch the two night hologram. It’s like poking a mannequin. Harrowing.’

With that, the Terzoan separated his hands and walked off in a zig-zag pattern down the corridor.

‘Don’t listen to him, the man’s a wretch,’ said Jemba, appearing in the doorway.

‘Terzoan?’ asked Trig.

‘A poor example of one, yes.’

‘That’s what Katya said she was,’ said Salvo, still watching the Terzoan man bumping off the walls of the curved corridor. ‘Or something like that.’

‘Ah, Katya, a much better example. Though as I said, there is no one type. And you’ll find that applies even more to the Terzo Collective. Or the Terzoans. Either one is acceptable.’

‘Wait a sec,’ said Trig, half raising his hand. ‘The Terzo Collective is a human group…or an alien group with humans among them? Or an alien group that look like humans?’

‘It’s all in the pad, comrades. Now, would you like to finally check out your dorm?’

‘Is it ready?’ asked Salvo, trying to peer past Jemba’s shoulder.

‘Superficially. I’ve set the cleaning bots to take care of the bunk the Terzoan was on, so that’ll still take a while, but the rest of it…gravity, set, amenities, set, replicator, set, bathrooms, functional. Ah, why am I describing all this? Come on in, have a look for yourselves.’

Salvo went first, hands still holding her jacket together, while Trig lingered a moment longer so he could check on the retreating Terzoan. It was okay, he was out of sight, though his singing could still be heard. Luckily, the lyrics were nonsensical, like those Terzoan sex euphemisms, so he pushed it aside and went inside the dorm.

Relief hit him straight away.

It wasn’t a Foxconn duplicate, or a prison cell, or anything normal in the human sense of the word. No, that was wrong. It was human, it had to be, Jemba said the whole corridor had been designed with them in mind, but it wasn’t like a regular room.

The general shape was circular, like an igloo, with two bunks pushed against opposite walls. It took him a moment to register that they were semi-circles, the pillow side curved and the rest of it evening out into a normal rectangle.

One window punctuated the slow curve of the far wall; its frame cut into a two-tier mould, like a pyramid with its top chopped off.

Salvo was already lodged there, staring out at the planet duplicate of Neptune hanging effortlessly in the black.

It was pretty much the same view they’d seen from the loop line viewing bubble half an hour earlier, with the added bonus of being able to see their neighbours in the dorms next door, assuming they stood at the window sides.

‘I’m not a salesman, so I won’t bother continuing with the promotional side of things,’ said Jemba, standing by the doorway, rubbing his head again. ‘One bunk for each of you. Replicator here by the door. Provisional station clothing in the bathrooms. Beam light, inventory etc. by the side of the bunks. Beam light has three settings, third being the one that puts you out the longest. It’s all pretty self-explanatory.’

‘What do we do now?’ asked Trig, poking his head round the corner entrance to the bathroom and blowing out his cheeks. Shower, toilet, clothes rack, mirror, wall devices he couldn’t fathom; it was just like being in a futuristic-themed hotel.

‘For the next seventeen hours, anything you want. Sleep, read, go eat something, cry. I’ll be back at nine tomorrow morning to take you to the Training Centre. Don’t worry, it’s nothing big, just outlining your mission options. And as you already know where you wanna go, it’s even less of an issue.’

Jemba turned to leave, almost bumping his face into the door.

‘You’re leaving now?’

‘Unless you have any more questions?’

Trig looked around the dorm, then sideways at Salvo. That was no good, she was still lost in the view. ‘I don’t know.’

‘That means no. If you really need me, you can use the inventory by the bunk to get in touch. But it’s not recommended.’

‘Why not?’

‘Dah Station guidelines. Relying on your hologram to an excessive degree will lead to dependency and anti-social anxiety. In short, think of me as a guide, not a parent.’

‘I have a question.’

‘Just one?’

‘How many types of human are there here, on the station?’

‘Didn’t we go through this already?’

‘I’ve forgotten.’

Jemba took a breath and held up his fingers. ‘Okay, there are three. You, the Nabians and the ones you’ve already met, the Terzo Collective.’

‘The Nabians…aren’t they the green fur aliens?’

‘No, that’s Trv. Humanoids. I don’t think you’ve met any Nabians yet. Which could be for the best.’

‘Why?’

‘Ah, I probably shouldn’t say anything. It might poison the well.’

‘They’re not friendly?’

‘But then again, it’s in the pad so…ah, it’s not that big a deal. They’re just a bit patronising, that’s all. Mostly to humans.’

‘I’m confused. Aren’t they human too?’

‘Yes and no. Historically, yes, but culturally, the way they think…’

‘Actually, I still don’t really understand why there are three groups of humans.’ Trig glanced left at Salvo for confusion solidarity, but she was still Id deep in fake Neptune. ‘I mean, the separation part of it. How did they all get off Earth and we didn’t? Was it a long time ago? Before the Ice Age? Did the Terzo and the Nabians leave together? Are they related?’

‘Okay, this could go on for hours. As I said, it’s in the pad, so I suggest you sit down and give it a full read. Especially the names.’ He raised his hand to hit his temple again, but changed tack at the last second and rested it on the frame of the door. ‘I really have to check out now. See you in the morning. Oh, and remember, we’re on twenty-seven hour days.’

Jemba gave a perfunctory wave and then merged with the corridor outside. The door waited a second, probably out of safety concerns, then closed itself.

The dorm was sealed and for the first time in what seemed like a year, the two visitors were alone. Trig turned to the window and stared out alongside a transfixed Salvo, his brain telling him it was a cinema screen he was looking at, that it wasn’t really an alien planet beyond them.

In some way it was convincing.

If he hadn’t gone on the tour of the station, if he hadn’t met at least five different alien species, if it hadn’t all been so ridiculously detailed, he would’ve said, yup, it’s a Japanese reality TV show, and any second now the host would come out and say, ‘konbanwa, young people, were you at any point terrified?’

But it was detailed.

And it was convincing.

And migraine-inducing.

And overwhelming.

Yet, apart from the occasional lashing out in instinctive fear, he was happy to be there.

Yes.

This was happiness, he was sure of it.

An alien space station. Humans, humanoids, aliens that looked like chocolate bars and earphones and atom stalks on beachballs. No Zinc Burger. No enervating routine.

Until he woke up…if it truly was a dream…he’d adjust to it.

The question was, could Salvo adjust to it too?

He turned his head slowly towards her, assessed her current facial state, vetoed the usual are you okay? and instead went with a more neutral, ‘what do you think?’

Surprisingly, she answered fast, and with no sense of fatigue.

‘Hungry.’

‘Hmm.’

‘You?’

‘Famished.’