by David Petrie
Bastian let out a chuckle at the name.
Catching his reaction, Milo stopped before opening the door. "I'm surprised someone got the reference, especially someone so young," he said, addressing the youngest member of the party with a smile on his face.
Bastian didn't seem like someone who spoke unless spoken to, so all he said was a quiet, "It's clever."
Milo continued to look at up at the young man as if he expected more, eventually beckoning with one hand to coax a few more words from him.
"Oh," Bastian continued, "Little Nemo was an old movie and video game about a dream world." He shifted his hand in his coat pocket as if holding onto something. "I have the game on my phone. There's an app that runs all the classic Nintendo games. I've been working my way through its library."
Milo grinned from ear to ear. "You know, you remind me of myself when I was your age. I would have loved something like that. Now, if you remember, what did you do in the game?"
Bastian's eyes rolled up and to the side. "Umm, you rode various animals through the dreamland and used their abilities to make progress."
"Ha, YES! Exactly," Milo slapped a hand against his leg. "How about we meet the animals you'll be riding tonight."
With that, he pushed open the double doors dramatically, revealing a wide room full of high-tech looking equipment. The far wall contained a massive multi-screened terminal with heavy cables running out and around the edge of the room, each disappearing into one of eight identical machines that lined the space. At their hearts sat a cushioned chair that reclined into a position almost parallel to the floor. Screens and electronics surrounded them with coils of thick wires running in and out in all directions. A large Somno system, attached to the headrest, completed each machine. They were all black, which Wyatt would have liked but, instead, found more than a little intimidating. From the expressions he saw all around him, so did everyone else. Well, everyone but Milo who was walking backward with his hands spread apart, directing the group's attention to the chairs that would be their beds for the night.
"These are our test rigs," he said, almost taking a bow. "On top of providing you with the best possible connection, they can also monitor your vitals and brain activity. So, if anything goes wrong, we'll know about it." He called to a middle-aged man with glasses wearing a white lab coat who was inspecting some of the monitoring equipment. "This is Doctor Narang. He's leading the team that'll be keeping an eye on you during the mission."
The man let out a sigh before turning to the group. “What is it?”
“I wanted to introduce you to the team you’ll be monitoring.” Milo gestured toward Max and the others.
The man made no motion to shake anyone’s hand. “Yes. It’s very nice to meet everyone.”
A moment passed where no one said anything before Milo took the hint. “Ah, yes. Well, we should let you get back to work.”
Narang nodded without saying anything more, which appeared to be Milo’s cue to take his guests back out into the hall before he got them all yelled at. "I guess we should get out of their way." He pushed the side of his glasses up before changing the subject. "I've had a meal prepared for everyone. You know, trying to be a good host and all," he said, leading Wyatt and the others into a conference room where a table full of food waited.
A few employees from the building's commissary were still bringing in a few dishes as they entered. Milo took a seat at the head of the table and motioned for them to do the same. "There's plenty for everyone, so dig in. We're going to have to get an early start tonight, so we should relax now while we can."
It was the first time Wyatt had seen food since the flight, and the limo ride from the airport had been longer than expected. He glanced at Seth with half a smile to apologize before piling a plate high with chicken fingers.
Seth nodded in return.
Wyatt passed the tray along to Marisa's kids who devoured the rest while the others selected more refined options.
"I hope everyone can find something they like," Milo said. "I had an intern pull some of your food purchases to find out what you preferred.” His mouth hung open for a moment. "Now that I've said that, I realized that was probably an invasion of privacy. Sorry." The group stopped eating, but Milo continued regardless, not giving them the chance to get upset. "Oh well, it's done now. If there is anything else I can get, just let me know."
Everyone looked to Wyatt, who shrugged and continued to eat. The others followed his lead. Well, everyone except Seth.
"You feel okay?" Marisa asked, noticing that he hadn't touched anything.
He sipped a glass of water. "I'm fine."
Wyatt glanced around the table, hoping to find something that might be okay. "Oh, there's some mashed potatoes. You should be okay with that, right?"
"Sure, that should be fine, as long as I don't have a lot," Seth said, reaching for the bowl of fluffy white starch. "Sorry, I have a thing with my stomach," he explained in a casual tone as if it was no big deal. "I can't actually digest solid foods."
The group stopped eating mid-chew, a look of horror on Milo's face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. What about soup or something like that?"
"Yeah, as long as there’s no chunks in it." Seth leaned back. He was used to explaining it. Wyatt still remembered when he’d first heard about it. His friend had tried to make a joke of it. "But really," Seth continued, "don't worry about it. I know it's kind of a weird thing. I don't expect people to go out of their way."
Milo pulled out a large smartphone and typed a quick text, tapping send like it was the period at the end of a sentence. "Okay, liquid sustenance is on the way," he said as if he could have produced anything with another few taps.
"You really don't have to worry about it, but I do appreciate the effort." Seth smiled.
"How come you can't eat stuff?" Kevin asked while picking up another fork full of food.
"Nothing major, just unlucky. Caught a virus, it did some nerve damage that affected the muscles in my stomach; could’ve happened to anybody. It was about ten years ago."
"That sucks." Wren pushed a bite of food around her plate. Her sympathetic tone sounded more mature than a fifteen-year-old should.
Seth chuckled with a sad smile. "Yeah, it does."
Marisa slapped a hand down on the table. "That's why you're so obsessed with food online."
"Pretty much. It had been seven years since I had solid food when Noctem came out. I went on a several-day-long binge when I realized there was a way I could eat again. It wasn’t real, but I didn’t care."
"Yeah, we barely gained a level in our first week thanks to this one's compulsive eating," Wyatt added, remembering how many nights he'd sat in a tavern drinking while his partner consumed the menu line by line.
Seth grinned. "It was amazing; I can't tell you how much it meant to have that back. I mean, talk about delayed gratification. The years of nothing but shakes and broth before then made everything taste so much better than I remembered. First thing I had was some kind of meat pie. I didn't even know what was in it. You could have told me it was rat pie, and I still would have eaten it." He paused, almost salivating. "I still remember that pie like it was yesterday."
Milo looked dumbfounded. "I had no idea that the system had an impact like that for somebody."
"One more reason for us to get this done," Wyatt said through a mouthful of breaded chicken, reminding the others of the reason they were there without meaning to. They fell silent.
Not long after, a serious looking man entered, pushing a cart containing beef consume and some form of protein shake.
"Sorry there isn't something more," Milo apologized. "I asked my assistant, Jeff here, to find someone from our fitness center to tell him how to make a decent shake."
Jeff didn't look thrilled to be used as a gopher, wearing a stern expression on his face as he placed the bowl of liquid in front of Seth, who thanked him. Jeff said nothing in return, then he approached Milo, handing him a thin tablet computer.
Milo took it and looked over the screen, deflating as a frown gnawed at his face. "Damn, they need me down the hall." He excused himself, leaving Wyatt and the others to spend the next hour without him, getting to know more about each other's lives.
The standard questions were asked all around. Where you from and what not. As it turned out, Sarah had grown up in Georgia and had only moved to New York in the last two years. Kevin, on the other hand, had lived in Denver his entire life. And by sheer coincidence, Bastian's new dorm at U. Mass was only a half hour from where Marisa lived in Haverhill, Massachusetts. They would have been on the same flight too, but he had a couple classes in the morning that he couldn't skip.
Just as Kevin and Marisa's kids were polishing off what was left of the food, Jeff returned with several plastic packages, each containing a pair of hospital-like pajamas. He handed one out to each of them. "You may use the offices down the hall to change," he informed in a formal tone before turning to Marisa. "Mr. Parker has a small apartment in the building that will be comfortable for the children to spend the night, and there will be someone available at all times if they should need anything. If you would follow me, I'll show you there."
"Oh, okay," she agreed, trepidation in her voice as her small family followed him from the room.
Wyatt spoke as soon as they were gone, hooking a thumb at the door. "That guy's loads of fun, huh?"
Seth joined in with an impression of the assistant’s no-nonsense demeanor. He continued the act as he took over leading the party down the hall to the offices, getting a few laughs on the way and showing the others more of the resemblance between him and his ridiculous online persona.
There was no shortage of offices, so the others just picked whichever one was closest and shut the door. Wyatt hesitated in the hall alone for a moment and took a slow breath. Eventually, he took a room on the far right, closing the door behind him.
The office belonged to a young woman. He assumed this from a pair of slip-on shoes sitting by the door, a backup for when fancier ones became uncomfortable. On a shelf sat both boyfriend and dog, lovingly photographed. A Hello Kitty calendar hung on the wall, one week highlighted, where excited handwriting had scribbled the words ‘England trip’. Wyatt tried his best not to disturb the room.
He tore open the plastic package, removing the cotton pajamas and holding them in front of himself as he let them unfold in his hands. The day had passed by so fast that he hadn't really considered that it had been leading up to something. Now, standing there in a stranger's office with a pair of white hospital jammies, reality sunk in. A feeling of dread swelled, more worry than fear, but worry of what, he didn't know. He shook it off and disrobed, slipping into the PJs and pulling the front across his chest to where they tied on the side. They fit well. At least he'd be comfortable.
Gathering his things, he exited the room and rejoined his companions who had also finished.
Kevin eyed Bastian. “Well, this is embarrassing, we wore the same outfit.” No one laughed. “You know, cause the …” He gestured to his attire, exacerbating the failed joke by explaining it. Although, in his defense, the air had grown tense, making his words feel forced, like he was struggling to distract himself. Evidently, it wasn't just Wyatt that was sensing the weight of what they were about to do hanging over them.
With most of the group waiting, the only one missing was Seth, who was taking longer to get changed than he should’ve, prompting Wyatt to knock on his door. "You okay in there?"
"Yeah, umm, I'm fine," Seth responded from inside, followed by a low clunk, like the sound of someone bumping into a chair. Wyatt raised an eyebrow but leaned against the wall to wait anyways. Finally, he emerged. One look at Seth told him what the issue was, and he coughed an abrupt laugh in reflex.
Seth held his top out like a tent, the strings tied off in all the wrong places, making it look almost as if he was wearing it sideways. "I have done something wrong."
Wyatt shook his head and moved to aid his clothing challenged friend, tugging at the knots Seth had tied. "How the hell did you even do this?"
"I don't know. I panicked. Just started tying things," Seth said as if it was a reasonable explanation.
"Good plan.” Wyatt struggled with a tangle of string. “Who in their right mind ties a triple knot? Have you never tied a shoe before?"
"Obviously I've tied a shoe before," Seth defended in an annoyed tone, sounding far too much like the fairy he played online.
Wyatt laughed again. "You sure about that? I could go get Marisa's kids to teach you." Seth rolled his eyes at the comment as the scene continued for longer than was comfortable for either of them. Wyatt began looking for other options. His first thought was to ask Sarah for help, hoping that she might have longer fingernails, being the only woman there at the moment. That would require him to talk to her, though, and she looked a little self-conscious standing there in just a pair of pajamas which, in turn, made him nervous. So that was out.
Fortunately, Seth got a better idea, disappearing back into one of the offices. The sound of scissors snipping strings was heard, followed by a few staples. He reemerged looking put together, for the most part, giving the room a little strut as if he was walking the runway during fashion week. He held one hand out at his side and finished with a proper turn as he looked at the group over his shoulder stating a simple, "Problem solved."
"I'm not sure—" Wyatt started to say before being interrupted.
"I believe I said, ‘problem solved,’" Seth insisted, getting a smirk from Sarah.
A minute later, Marisa returned, her face reading like an open book as she hugged herself and frowned. She must not have been accustomed to being separated from her family in a strange place.
Not long after, Milo came to collect them. He had also changed into matching pajamas, giving the group a ridiculous appearance, like some kind of adult slumber party. Hail the conquering heroes and their jammies.
Wyatt pointed at the man’s clothes with his eyes. "I take it you're going in with us?"
Milo looked wounded. "Of course. I may not be able to share the full burden of this, but I can support you from the airship as much as possible." He placed one hand on his chest as if making a promise, and with that, he led them back to the Nemo Unit in a parade of white cotton.
Again, the room was abuzz with activity, adding to the tension in the air. Doctor Narang gave orders to staff in green scrubs as they got things into place. Trays of small vials and plastic wrapped hypodermic needles sat beside each machine. The terminal at the end was manned by two technicians talking in complex techno-jargon that Wyatt thought sounded made up. To his surprise, Jeff, the far-too-serious assistant, was coming with them as well. Either that or he had developed a compulsion for wearing pajamas for some other reason.
Wyatt gravitated toward one of the Somno rigs, and the others spread out around the room to pick one of their own. Seth lingered by his side a moment longer than the rest. They exchanged panicked looks as the staff descended upon them, getting them into their chairs and sticking electrodes to their skin as last-minute checks were done. The monitors came alive with readouts of their heart rates and blood pressure as they danced across the screens like an excited raver, waiting for the beat to drop. Then, one by one, the padded chairs reclined, sliding back into a table-like position. Breathing grew heavy as the large headsets began to slide into place over their faces, emitting various electronic sounds louder than normal, being so close to their ears.
Wyatt stole one last glance at the room before his vision was cut off, only catching a small detail. The image of Seth's thumb jittering about on the armrest of his rig, the sound of him tap, tap, tapping still audible over the start-up noises of Wyatt's Somno. It was a nervous tick that Seth had always done when he was feeling overwhelmed. Something about the action stirred the fear bubbling in his stomach, forcing him to swallow it back down before it ran away with him. Then, from his other side where Sarah lay, he heard something else
.
"Everything will be fine. You can do this," she said, probably talking to herself but at a higher volume to compensate for the noises around her.
It was an awkward little pep talk, but Wyatt appreciated it. He let the words echo in his head. Everything will be fine. You can do this.
Chapter Eleven
Max opened his eyes, finding Kira waiting for him on the bridge of the Nostromo as soon as he got logged in, her small form slouching into the captain’s chair as if she owned the place. The others trickled in behind him, their expressions grateful just to be out of the testing room - despite the fact that they never really left it. Even Alastair looked a little relieved as he raised an eyebrow at the fairy taking up his seat.
She took the hint and slid from the chair, taking a couple steps to the side with her hands behind her back as if she hadn't been there in the first place.
Alastair ignored her and reclaimed his set.
A moment later a tall Venom mage appeared, the same one who had accompanied Alastair in the tavern the previous night, this time with his hood lowered. He wore a severe expression on his face that looked like he might release an annoyed sigh at any moment. Connections formed in Max's head, identifying the elf as Jeff, the no-nonsense assistant that had brought them their pajamas back in the real world. He would have said something to him, but his attention was torn away by Alastair who stood to address the entire bridge. His voice was clear and professional.