A/N 9/12/2026: Made an important change to the demographic numbers mentioned in an upcoming conversation.
Gagging, I had to set my tea down, trying to clear the blockage by pounding my chest. I looked at Nite, having composed myself, her neutral gaze meeting my surprised expression. “Come again?”
“Your chai?” the pad garbled as it translated for Nite.
Steam continued wafting from my drink as I eyed it, “It’s good.”
“I was told you made a full recovery. Do you feel as though you have?”
“You mean by your friends, or by the hospital?”
A look was given to Nushala and Syvis, then back to me. “Our friends, and yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your enneagram was confirmed to have stabilized. There might be side effects, and since you are speaking an Erda dialect, that seems to be the case.”
‘Erda?’
… Earth?
There was that spinning sensation again, and I took a sip of Earl Grey as though it were liquor.
“How have you recovered?” She asked again.
“... It doesn’t feel like I have. I feel fine but… No, I feel different.”
“How so?”
“Larger, more awake, but as though I shouldn’t be here.”
“… Yet we are.” There was a pause as Nite blinked. “What do you remember?”
Another sip of tea did not help the headache. “Could you be more specific?”
“Before yesterday.”
“... I remember Oceanside, an apartment smelling like weed, and a night of loud bars and music in downtown streets. There’s nothing I remember about here.”
Syvis joined in, asking a question, the pad speaking for her, “Where is… Oh-shun-side? And what is ‘weed’?”
“It’s in San Diego… Weed is something you smoke.”
That only seemed to make her and Nushala confused, Nite less so as she asked, “Saint James?”
I shook my head. “It’s a city.”
“... Do you know our names?”
“You said their names, Nushala… Syvis? I don’t know yours.”
Fingers tapped against her pad as though she was taking notes. “Do you know yours?”
Thinking of an answer was much harder, for I was torn between the one from memory and that of the person I had become. “... No.”
Expressions morphed into concern from Nushala and Syvis. “Thelamein, do you remember Gweyir?”
“... I don’t.”
Something shifted in those gold-orange eyes, yet all I could think was how surreal they appeared.
“What of–” she started, giving a list of names that I still couldn’t recognize, each one answered with a “no.”
There was more tapping, more note taking. In that moment of questioning, I finished the last of my tea, serving myself another cup of the stuff that smelled like tequila (too curious not to try it) with Nushala helping. “What planet am I on?” I asked.
That caught her attention, Nite thinking of something before answering. “We are on Kessithi."
“… Where is Earth… Erda?”
It was Nushala that spoke after a moment's thought, “I do not think we know… not exactly. Why do you ask?”
A cold sweat broke across me, that spinning headache becoming unbearable that I started messaging my temple. Jesus Christ. “Because, last I checked, we didn’t orbit Neptune or Uranus.”
“… We are orbiting Blue. What are Nep-toon and Your-anus?” Nite responded.
Despite the dour look, Syvis had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle.
I took a long sip of the new tea, the taste unlike tequila yet closer to an earthy root, and I almost had the repulsion to set it aside. "They're not here.”
More questions were asked, related to things and concepts that I either understood or did not, of names and places I had no memory of. Soon my second tea had been finished, and so was Nite.
“Please excuse us.” Taking her pad with her, she, Syvis, and Nushala left for a nearby room, the glass door opening and shutting on its own, its white pad shifting from a green to red outline. I was left there in sour thoughts and sweet smelling teas, with a headache overcoming the dull pain in my hand and ankle, more questions lingering as ticks in my skin.
They returned after agonizing minutes, taking their original seats, Syvis and Nushala now strangely calm but expressionless, less so than Nite, their pace reserved and slow. Nite soon had her pad on and beside her, and began speaking again, with the pad again translating. “Thelamein, it appears something has gone very wrong. You have memories that are not your own, as though you were overridden.”
A nod was my only response, which caused Nite to exhale. “You are not Thelamein.”
My eyes drifted down. “… No.”
“You are certain you do not remember your name?”
“… It’s Taylor.”
“Who should we call you?”
“… What?” I just told you my name.
“May we call you Thelamein?”
“... For what?”
“We are in a delicate situation… Are you aware of what an enneagram is?”
The empty cup clinked against the coaster as I bounced it in my tender hand. “… You mean the mind?”
“If you want to call it that.”
Looking up I asked, “What of it?”
She took another exhale, “The previous host had hers shattered. We… used yours to try and… repair her. The body was saved, but it appears that everything that she is was replaced, and now it is only you.”
A sinking feeling took me. “I killed her–?”
“No,” she sharply interrupted, “please do not think like that. Your enneagram was the closest in compatibility, and had nothing been done the body would be a corpse. There are only so many like her.”
Leaning back in my chair, I chanced a look at the girls, who offered a look of pity. Nite proceeded when nothing was said, “You have inherited Thelamein’s place, and for this borough, for the people, you are our procreator.”
“… What?”
She pressed on, her tone similar to the matter-of-fact one of her pad, “By now, you may be well acquainted with my friends. They mentioned how well you behaved last night, so I can only assume that you understand how our affairs work.”
Again, I looked at the girls. They now wore sheepish smiles, Syvis blushing and shrinking as Nushala leaned in her chair, both offering a glance. A million thoughts raced in the span of seconds, none of them forming a question or response.
“Must I explain sex?” Nite asked as though irritated.
“No… no, just why?”
“To maintain our population.”
… What the hell? “I’m a breeder?”
“That would be a crude way of putting it.”
“How else would you put it?”
“You can be an involved parent, find companionship, or this can simply be indulgence. If the fear is that you will be without food and shelter, you need not worry, those will be provided in abundance alongside luxury.”
Being trapped to a predefined role seemed to carry a hidden price, and it wasn’t something I was willing to discover. “Why me?”
“There are only twelve-thousand procreate-females and one-hundred and forty-five million viable females. Of those here, there is only you among twenty-three thousand. I’m afraid you are too valuable to ignore.”
Being stunned was my only response.
“Is the idea so repulsive?” she soon asked when the silence dragged out.
“... Do I have a choice?”
“You do, but we may ask that you contribute in other ways.”
There was a visible shake, and that spinning headache became unbearable. The nonchalance of her delivery made the situation more surreal, a confliction of my wildest fantasies against the worst possible nightmares: No freedom, but all the ‘sex’ you can want; no way home, but with the ‘gift’ of basic necessities; the abandonment of your friends and family for something unfamiliar and foreign. What was being asked had to be unbelievable. “No… no… You’ve taken me from my home, put in someone I never asked to be, violated my mind, and now I am to simply ‘accept’ this?” How is this fair!? I wanted to yell, my voice remaining low.
“... I’m sorry you feel that way.” The answer had just the faintest hint of bullshit remorse.
“... Can you send me home?”
It was a long moment before Nite answered, “I’m afraid we cannot. Even if we could, the journey to Erda would be untold millenia. Your friends and family… they likely passed on a long time ago.”
Part of me wanted to argue, yet I knew there was no way for me to know if she was telling the truth with what I had seen thus far. I could either word for it or risk making enemies of those that wanted to enslave me. There was, also, the chance that I might very well be on a different planet, the evidence staring at me as though at the end of a shotgun.
In that long moment I stewed. “Do you need time to yourself?” Syvis asked.
“… I think I do.”
Out of my corner of my eye, I saw Nite nod. “I would suggest remaining within the premises, for your sake.”
“… For how long?”
“Until you’ve become more acclimated here. The outside must be… extreme for you.”
“… Can I at least have access to the rest of the building?”
“That can be arranged,” Nite said as she tapped on her pad.
My attention fell on the girls. “Can both of you leave as well?”
“I’m afraid that–”
“Please,” I forcefully interrupted Nite. It was perhaps unfair to them, but the idea that I would have to endure their presence did little to ease me.
Nushala spoke up, “Nabe, it’s fine.”
‘Nabe’ briefly looked at her and Syvis, then back at me. “Alright.”
All three looked at me expectantly. “... Is there anything else?” I asked.
“No, we are done, Tae-lore.”
They began collecting their belongings, Nabe grabbing her pad but not before leaving a small device on the table. “Should you need something, this will put you in contact with one of the servants. You need only speak once.”
It took Nushala and Syvis time before they left, with Nabe following not far behind, the main entrance closing behind them with the white pad flashing orange, no longer red.
Late in the evening, in that bedroom I found sanctuary, only after feasting on something tasting like salty chicken and a rich artichoke-like-thing. My clothes had been swapped out for something resembling and feeling like linen pajamas, resting on that silky bed which had now been cleaned, trying to force myself to sleep. As the stars rose, the gas giant “Blue” soon appeared, glowing faintly as Luna above Mediterranean coasts.
Its sight broke me down like a child missing his long-lost father.