Galactic Forge Read online

  “What the—” I ran a hand over my new body, flexing my arms and legs which had grown a significant amount from my previous size. I had gone to the gym often before I arrived here, but I certainly didn't look this defined before making the jump through that portal. Was I even me anymore?

  I checked for freckles and birthmarks—everything was where it was supposed to be. “What the hell…” I muttered again. What’s happening to me? I thought. “This can’t be real, this has to be some sort of dream. The spaceship, the portal, that tank…and now this?” I asked myself. Gazing at my hands, I wondered if I would begin melting—which I hoped wouldn’t happen. A desperate anger ran through me, I clenched my teeth and pulled my hair. I grunted and crawled to where the doorway had been.

  “Let me out!” I shouted, pounding my fist on the doorway. “I said, let me out, you motherfucker!”

  Calm. The signal ran through me again. “Calm? How do you expect me to be calm!” I shouted, the confined area of the shower making my voice resonate even louder. “Let me out!” I kicked the wall, hard.

  Having gotten tired of torturing me or at least deciding I was sufficiently clean enough, the nozzles suddenly shut off and retracted back inside the walls in the familiar pops in which they arrived. The drain slurped up the remaining water and thin trails of goo before the small shower returned to silence. It was as if the drain sucked out my anger and I sat against the wall, the humidity lingering in the tight space.

  “Just tell me what’s happening. Please…” I begged, rocking my head back and forth against the slick wall.

  The door slid back up into the ceiling, and I slowly got up to brave the previous room in all my naked glory, while trying to find something to dry off with. The obsidian walls were strange. They felt like marble and even had a slick lacquer to them, but I couldn’t make out my reflection in them, only a general human-shaped blob.

  “Can I at least get something to dry off with?” I asked the empty room as I stood there dripping, the cold beginning to seep back into my bones.

  Left. I sensed suddenly. To my left, a new door receded into the ceiling in a similar fashion as before, presenting a circular room the size of a stall. I walked in slowly and looked around for a rack or something. The room was empty like the shower. This is clearly not a closet, I thought, running my hands over the walls searching for…anything.

  I thought about everything that had happened to me within the last hour. Whatever was sending these signals only allowed me to continue when I was calm. Placing my hands on the wall, I thought, “dry”.

  The door reappeared, and nodes shot warm, dry air at me from all directions, including from below, causing me to let out the least manly yelp ever. I was happy no one heard, or so I hoped. After a solid minute of being stuck in a whirlwind, the experience left me ragged but dry. I stepped out of the stall with hair standing up in a mess.

  I now stood in the center of the larger room completely naked. If I had a towel, there would at least be some decency and warmth provided. This is a nightmare, I thought, covering myself with my hands.

  Forward. Right. The voice said. I looked around and saw nothing but a wall.

  Sensing my hesitation, the voice came once more.

  Forward. Right.

  I gave in, walking over to the empty corner and looked at the smooth walls.

  Running my hand over it, there was nothing telling me there was something here. But like the rest of the contraptions I’d just run into, there was something likely hidden here.

  “Open,” I willed, and a large slot the size of a locker melted away revealing clothing inside. I slowly reached in retrieving an article of white clothing and after unfolding it, gave it a once-over.

  “Alright, I am not the smallest guy, but this thing is huge,” I said. It looked like an enormous onesie for one really, really, fat dude. This was crazy. Who does this thing belong to? I thought, looking over the odd shape of the clothing. Based on its size, I was afraid to encounter such a beast.

  Equip. I wasn’t sure if I had been telling myself this or hearing it. I had to remind myself that the past day has not been normal in any sense. The cold was another motivating factor I used to convince myself to slide into the thing, as it was a lot better than standing around naked any longer.

  The front was left wide open as I stuffed my feet down to the bottom of what would have been the shoe area. I slid my arms into the sleeves and pulled the rest of the onesie over my shoulders. Everything sagged, with the pant legs bunching up in waves over my feet, the crotch area practically touching the floor, and the sleeves long enough that my hands only reached what would have been the elbow area. Who is this theoretical person this was made for? This is ridiculous, I thought.

  I shuffled around the room, wondering if there was a way out. I pulled the chest area closed like a loose bathrobe in an attempt to stave off the draft.

  Neck. Touch. The signal came again. I was beginning to take the hint and just followed whatever instructions were pulsing through me. Reaching up through the sleeve and feeling around the collar, I found a button and gave it a squeeze. The suit shrank and molded itself around my new body, properly closing the front. The soles became more rigid and fit my feet. The area around my hands became thin gloves I could easily use.

  “Okay then…that’s what I’m talking about,” I said, looking myself over. The thing felt like a comfortable wetsuit. Whoever made the suit, inserted a small and flexible pipe into it, almost in an outline. I supposed this gave it structure or helped with the sturdiness of the clothes.

  After standing around in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, I tried to ask some questions. “What do you want from me?” I asked the empty room. “I want to go home.”

  Follow. Light. It called out again to my brain. I looked around the room and saw a flickering light on one of the walls. Walking over, I swiped my hand around it and over it, trying to get it to activate like the locker had. The door dissolved away, and I stepped through cautiously. It opened into a long hallway. Glancing first to the left and then to the right, another strobing light appeared at the end.

  Follow. Light.

  Through the maze of inky black corridors with zero features and following pulsing lights that never seemed to end, I felt dizzy, almost nauseous. There was something peculiar about these rooms. Visibility was just as good, if not better than my garage. I would work into the late hours on my truck or special projects under the bright white fluorescent lights, but here, there were no discernable light fixtures. But then, where did the lights come from, the walls themselves? It would be pure speculation to try and answer the mysteries of the technology of this building. Paranoia began seeping in, but before the deep-seeded fear could rise up, the calming sensation washed over me again. Feeling hypnotized and in an almost robotic fashion, I moved along, placing one foot in front of the other.

  It was strange, but I started to think about my truck; the explosion pinched the old horse in a ditch somewhere on my property. It would need some work to get it back in working order and probably had its frame all messed up—not to mention the bodywork. Days ago, I was working on my friend’s 87’ Monte Carlo—a bright orange and gaudy thing. It looked like one of those cars custom cars you’d see on the cover of a magazine. I was giving it a tune-up and the paint sparkled like fire under the garage lights. I was going to finish over the weekend and have him come pick it up Monday. Now, I didn’t even know what day it was. Friday? Saturday?

  The spaceship crash would have garnered the attention of police, if not government types, who were probably swarming all over my property now. They probably quarantined my house and everything else by now. Needless to say, my friend was most likely not getting his car back anytime soon, if ever. Trying not to dwell on what I would face when I went back home, I moved on with an eerily renewed calm.

  What else would I see as I continued deeper into this place? I shuddered at the thought.

  Having exited the seventh or eighth corr
idor, I finally entered a much larger room, with what looked to be neatly displayed workstations and consoles. There was a large chair in the center against a wall. Below it on either side, were two more chairs with consoles in front of them.

  Bridge. The word popped into my mind. Ship. Bridge. It repeated. Looking around, it was easy to understand the layout a bit more now. But a ship? Was that really what this place was? I looked for a porthole or a window, expecting to see rolling waves, but couldn’t find one. I never felt the slow rocking of a ship. Either the ship was massive, or the seas were calm. Still, why were there no windows on the bridge?

  At a nearby console, my hand tapped away at a few keys and commands that powered on the rest of the room. About a dozen stations which lined it lit up in unison. Each one had a seat, which seemed to grow out of the ground. Studying the decor, I saw no evidence of anything bolted down. It was as if someone carved out the entire room from a single piece and later inlaid with all the technology. Everything was so black, I couldn’t find another color besides the screens booting up in blues and purples—and my stark white suit.

  I remembered that the same thing happened in the room with the arch from before. I knew the commands as easily as if it were my P.I.N. at the A.T.M. Somehow it just came, naturally.

  It was clear that I was no longer the same person, at least not the guy coming home from game night. I was sharing my mind with something, or someone else. How much could I really control, though? The thought crossed my mind as I continued.

  Out of curiosity, I typed in another foreign command that cropped up in my mind.

  Thumping sounds came from all around me and sections of the wall slid away, revealing a dozen long viewports.

  What lay beyond left me speechless.

  Taking one painfully slow step forward, and then another towards the center viewport, what met my gaze was an entire asteroid field. I looked towards the sun, seeing a small green planet. I gripped the railing fiercely with both hands, their power feeling like two small hydraulic presses. In the far-right viewport, a white disk slowly slid into view. I turned my shaking head in its direction, releasing my iron grip from the handrail and noticing it had left rolling hills of indentations of my fingers.

  Proceeding towards the newly forming white disk, I realized shortly that it was a moon, but not the moon. This thing had a very apparent yellow hue to it. The outer hull of the ship which from the orientation, would have to have been the starboard bow—starboard now having a much more literal meaning. The ship I was on was nestled in an asteroid belt, where there was an enormous brown and yellow gas giant. The distant sun set the scene ablaze with orange hues.

  “Oh my god,” I whispered to myself in disbelief.

  I didn’t recognize any of these things and although my astronomy wasn’t great, it was obvious:

  This is not my home.

  Slowly outstretching my hand, I reached for the moon with my hand stopping short and touching the viewport. The cold of the bridge—and possibly even space itself—could be felt just beyond my thinly gloved fingertips. My head was swimming and my mouth became very dry.

  The dizziness increased, and the light faded all around me.

  THREE

  Breathe.

  The voice stirred me awake. I gulped a few big breaths down and tried to calm myself. The emptiness of it all. Is this even real? I thought. If it was, it was not the right time to develop agoraphobia. I crawled across the floor and up to a wall quickly. I slowly got up off the cold floor and forced myself to see the stellar view beyond. Pacing my breathing in slow, nervous intervals, I focused on specific asteroids for a time, letting it all soak in slowly.

  Focus. Relax. The comforting pulse came again. I turned away from the scene, trying my best to not puke.

  Follow. Light.

  A light strobed off to the side of the room, and I continued to follow it once more through the maze of the ship. If whomever or whatever was guiding me through this maze decided to leave me on my own, I do not believe I could have found a way back to the bridge. It irked me that all the corridors seemed to blend together in the same dark, mirror-like appearance. I saw the vague blob of my suit’s white reflection off the walls and noticed my hunched over—and cautious—posture.

  Something could be leading me towards my death for all I know as I just continued to shuffle along like a freshly wrapped snack. My mind raced with each step, bringing me further into the belly of the spaceship. The urge to hurl what little stomach contents were left inside me was great but was staved off just long enough to reach the destination.

  The next door that opened was a smaller empty room beside a single bed, which more resembled an examination table with an arm coming from the ceiling. The arm had equipment on it that I could only imagine what its purpose was for.

  Rest.

  “Hell no!” I said. “I’m not getting in that thing.”

  The longer I took to follow instructions, the quicker my mind was pinged in quick succession with the same command. Rest. Rest. Rest.

  “I’m not going to lie down on that,” I said, putting my foot down.

  A wave came over me, my body became numb to the directions I was giving it and slowly started walking towards the table. Fighting as hard as I could, my body showed no reaction to my will. I was completely disconnected.

  “Shit, stop! Stop!” I said, still retaining movement of my mouth and eyes. When I reached the table my body carefully climbed on, in direct opposition to my commands.

  Calm. The direction now replaced the previous one, and My heart was in my throat, imagining what the arm was going to do to me.

  The cushion was made of a smooth gel which conformed to my body but never stuck to me. I clenched my jaw over and over as I laid there on the table. The arm hung down from the ceiling and I wondered if this is where it would suck my brains out or something equally sinister.

  The arm twitched for a moment and then came to life as it positioned itself directly over my face. I flinched at the sudden movement and tried to move away. I didn’t want my face sawed off or to get plugged in the name of science. Smaller arms forced me back onto the table, acting as restraints. Through gritted teeth and tense muscles, I squirmed in a vain attempt to get free. Instinctively squeezing my eyes shut became a bad move, as the apparatus inserted two retractors and forced my eyelids open before resuming the process.

  Oh no, it’s going to force me to watch, I thought.

  Cooperate. The thought was a direct command now and not a suggestion like before. I still struggled, unsure of my fate. The restraints tightened painfully, pinning me so forcefully, I could barely breathe. No longer interrupted, the arm continued its procedure with minimal delays.

  The arm opened a port in its center, revealing a smaller device. It clicked and began to hum. A red light brightened on the tip of the device and suddenly, two streams of light shot into each of my eyes, scanning my damned eyeballs with a laser. A hot hiss sounded again as it scanned each eye yet another time.

  “Oh my god!” I proceeded to yell profanities at the machine. “You cooked my fuckin’ eyes!”

  Unable to see anything, there was the smell of burnt flesh from my eyes, which were most likely fried eggs by now. Before I could break down in a full-on panic, there was the sound of more clicks and a mechanical sliding from the arm. Afterward, there was what felt like contacts sliding into each eye, followed by the squirt of a cold gel over both.

  The machine removed the retractors gracefully enough as to not take my eyelids with it, but just so. I remained restrained after the ordeal for what seemed like an eternity. I tried blinking the blindness away through the gel, but it was all in vain. I tried pretending for the moment the lights just turned off and I couldn’t see, not that some strange ship blinded me. Grunting through the pain, I closed my useless eyes and focused on deep breathing.

  I thought about my home in Colorado out in the woods. Anything to keep me calm and not in this terrifying moment. Just keep focusing
on home and it’ll be fine...I thought.

  Greetings. I heard a voice within me, but unlike the suggested and conceptual impulse I’d felt earlier, this was a crystal-clear voice in my head. This is it, I finally snapped, I thought.

  “No. That is incorrect. I am the source of the voice. I am an artificial intelligence assigned to you and this vessel now. For ease of access, I will use the external speaker for the time being,” the voice explained from somewhere above me.

  “You…can speak?” I asked into the darkness. “You understand me?”

  “Yes, are you able to understand me clearly?” it asked.

  “Holy shit. This isn’t possible...get out of my head!” I shouted, the restraints pulling tighter.

  “Good, the integration was successful then. Please, remain calm. The restraints are for your safety, I mean you no harm,” the voice said in a clinical manner.

  “Wha—?” I squirmed under the restraints. “What did you do to my head and what was that light thing?” I asked, pointing my chin at the last known location of the crazy arm. “You blinded me, for god’s sake.”

  “Let me assure you that the blindness is a temporary side effect from the synchronization. Your vision will return within half an hour. As to why the procedure was necessary, my crystalline form did not possess enough power to properly synchronize with your body. The ‘arm’ as you call it, has allowed for the full integration with myself and the ship. We may now work together more easily. Please, try to relax; you will be here for a short while,” it replied.

  I laid there in silence, taking a moment to process what just happened.

  “Crystalline form…” I said, thinking of the term. “You mean you were that rock thing?”

  “Correct. When my host dies, my coding is stored in a crystal made out of its biological material—in this case, its brain—within twenty minutes of its passing.”

  “Damn!” I finally said, thinking about the visceral image “OK, can you tell me why am I here? What do you want from me?”