What You Need to Know
Abduction
Reunions
Apocalypse
Mourning
Awaken
Ability
Communication
Self-Control
Myself
Levitation
Screnac
RGB
Departure
F.T.L.
Wormholes
Kenglowe
Acclimatization
Morning
Learning
Development
Anguish
Waiting
Glimpse
Vision
Schrödinger
News
Impulse
Debris
Quote
Sphere
Venanth-Nepha
Anticlimactic
Plans
Living
Ven
Captives
Captain
Licenced
Meneleo
Hostage
Pregnancy
Virrion
Diplomacy
Communication
The corridor that we stepped into was wide enough to only fit two people walking side by side.  It was the same white surface lined with bright lights.
It went on for only a few metres before opening up into a large space.
It was not as large as the room that we had come from, however the ceiling was higher and there were upper levels that could be accessed by more ramps at various points around the room.
In the centre were a collection of screens.  As we drew closer it became clear that these were actually holograms.
Orthus stood in from of one and began tapping his left arm with his right hand as though he were typing on a keyboard.  The images that we were in front of faded and were replaced by maps and writing that I had never seen before.
After studying the visuals for a few moments, he turned to us, “there is a spare relaxation room not too far off.  It is nothing more than a smooth spherical room in which we usually unwind with calming colours and sounds.  There are no objects, furniture or people that can be damaged in there.”
He seemed to be looking to me for a reaction or some sort confirmation, however I was experiencing, what I assume to be, sensory overload and was unable to respond.  Fortunately, Phillip’s agreement that it would be the right place was enough for Orthus.
He lead us up two stories via the ramps and then down another corridor, seemingly indistinguishable from the last.
We passed many tharat as we walked.  None of which even seemed to acknowledge our existence, let alone have a reaction to us.
Only a few minutes passed before we reached the relaxation rooms.
The room into which we were shown was indeed an oval shape.  The floor at the centre was padded with a memory foam type of material.  The walls were so sloped that you could easily lounge on them and the only items present were a large soft pillow and a thin yet ridiculously soft blanket.
“Is it to your liking?” Orthus asked eagerly, “the temperature, lighting and sounds are all changeable should you require.”
I managed a weak smile, “it’s great, thank you.”
Being inside a place that was considered safe allowed me to relax a little, enough for me to be able to move a bit more freely and actually formulate words.
Swallowing the lump in throat, I turned to Phillip.
“I’m glad that you came with me,” I lifted my free hand to hold his cheek, “I need you to go back now.  I have to let this energy go and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” he put his arm around my waist, “I don’t mind taking a bit of a beating.”
I exhaled a laugh and rested my head on his shoulder, “well I do mind.”
Orthus stood at the door to the room with his back to us, probably waiting for us to say our goodbyes.
I lifted my head up again and, sliding my hand from his cheek around to the back of his head, gently pulled Phillip closer so that our foreheads touched.
I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation of feeling his breath intermingling with mine.
The hand that had been resting in the small of my back began to slowly and sensually draw up my back until it met my neck.
The moment that his index finger met the bare skin at the nape of my neck it was as though something snapped.
I will genuinely never know who moved first, it felt as though we moved as one.
Our lips met in an almost violent clash.
I let go of his hand in favour of flinging my arm around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible.
The unanswered desire that had lain dormant for over a decade burst forth and almost consumed us.
A quiet noise from the door as Orthus shuffled from one foot to another brought my senses sharply back into focus.
Pulling away for Phillip’s kiss felt like I was trying to stop myself from breathing.
He was having none of it.  As I pulled away, he pursued me, until we quite literally fell backwards.
We tumbled down onto the soft floor, landing awkwardly entwined.
Half on top of me, hand entangled in my hair, he tried to pull me close once more.
I just about managed to bring my hand up to cover his mouth before he could recapture me.
“Any more and I’m afraid I’ll wind up throwing you at the ceiling,” I said breathlessly.
The sensation of something warm and moist slid across the palm of my hand.  I yanked it sharply back, wiping it on his top.
The following kiss that caught me was short and bitter-sweet.
He rolled away from me and stood up, offering his hand to me.
I shook my head, “I think I’ll stay down for the time being.”  Leaning back on my hands I raised an eyebrow, “I need to calm down, in more ways than one.”
He gave a large sigh full of regret, “all right, we shall continue this conversation another time then.”
I had a pursed smile on my lips as he walked backwards towards the door, “I look forward to all of the talking we have yet to do.”
Our eyes remained locked together until he reached the door and almost walked into Orthus, who turned just in time to step out of his way.
“I shall return to you after I have escorted your friend back to the main chamber.”
With that, the door began to close.  It was slow enough for me to see him place a hand on Phillip’s shoulder and ask, “might I ask your name?”
Phillip cast me an amused glance just before the door closed completely.
The light of the room faded smoothly into a cream colour and my head flopped back onto the blanket that lay beneath me, wondering how it was that my heart could beat like that without going into cardiac arrest.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly, relaxing my entire body along with it.  A wave of energy seemed to drift out of me, levitating me off of the ground.  My bag and coat, the pillow and the blanket all floated gently off of the ground.  I wondered if perhaps whatever artificial gravity had been keeping me tethered so far was automatically turned off in this room.  However the more that I focused, the more I found myself capable of moving the items to and fro, up and down.
All the time I was releasing the energy, it seemed that I was in control of it even after it left my body.
I tensed up to stop the flow and everything, including myself, fell to the ground.  I attempted the same concentration to try and move the objects yet nothing happened.
I opened up my bag and sat going through its contents for a few minutes.  Amidst the collection of notebooks, there was also my tablet, a myriad of pens, my tiny makeup pouch, my seretide inhaler, a coin purse which contained painkillers and cold and flu tablets, and a couple of plasters, various keys on a loop that looked like a car’s steering wheel, my wallet, a compact mirror/hair brush, a mostly empty bottle of sanitary gel, a few feminine hygiene items, another pouch containing adapters, wires and two power banks, a tiny yet great quality video camera, a very unstretchy hair scrunchy, a deep blue tote bag with the solar system detailed in gold, a small penknife and a wind-up torch.  My phone was in the pocket of my coat along with three different lip balms and my wooly gloves.
Both my phone and my tablet had more than fifty percent battery so I turned them off to preserve their power.
Taking out the mirror, I gaped at how scruffy I looked.  My hair looked as you expect it to after having not been brushed for three days, so I spent several minutes pulling away at tangles.  Being that I had not properly showered since the morning of the day before we were abducted, it was rather grimly greasy so I pulled it into a ponytail with the somewhat limp piece of material that used to be a scrunchy.
Using the sanitary gel, I gave my essential areas a quick clean, under my clothes.  There was no way that I was not under some kind of observation considering, well, quite literally everything that had happened since I had left work, headed for home.
It was not long before the intensity of those feeling began to flare up again, they had not disappeared up until that point, merely dulled.
I considered curling up in a ball on the soft floor with the surprisingly cozy blanket and trying to sleep, however, Orthus would return at some point.  Being asleep at that time would help no one.
Eventually, he reappeared, apologizing profusely for taking so long, he had been sorting out some supervision for me, as it turned out that the room had no lock to it, so there would need to be someone outside at all times.
“If you need anything, please feel free to speak to the person on duty.  You will need this.”
He offered me a rather unique headset, “this device acts as a translator and will allow you to access corresponding control panels and holograms.  It will take a little while to adjust to having it on.  It works using electrical currents and telepathic fields so it may take a few moments to synchronize with your brain, and it will pinch a bit a first.”
I guess my face had a look on it that said, “you’ve got to be kidding me” as he continued by saying, “I also have one equipped, it is however embedded at the top of my spine, I felt that you would prefer the option that does not require surgery.”
“Is it really necessary?” I felt that I had to ask, despite already knowing the answer.
“Unless you wish to learn all of the languages that you may come across in the future, this device allows your brain to understand over twenty existing languages.  It is worth noting that there are fewer than one hundred beings in the galaxy that claim to speak English fluently.  Therefore if you wish to understand and speak to whomever you come across, you will need this translator.  It also has a personnel chip that will connect to the controls of this room, it will give you access to a control pad that will appear on the surface nearest to you.”
As hesitant as I felt, there appeared to be little choice.  I extended my hand and took the headset from him.  Upon closer inspection, it looked like an over-the-ear headphone on an adjustable band.
I placed it on, over my left ear.
Orthus seemed to find this rather amusing, “that is not quite right.  May I?”
I nodded and stood up, tilting my head forwards.  He took the headband off and replaced it by hooking it on either side, over my ears, the padded device resting at the base of my skull.  “The part of the brain,” he explained, “that understands language is right in the centre, this is the position that gets the translator close enough to have an effect.”
Once it was in place, I turned my head and nodded it back and forth.  It was barely noticeable, the straps were smooth and flexible and the device itself was small and cushioned.
“Is it on?” I asked, “I can barely feel anything.”
“It is not active at the moment,” Orthus replied, “you can activate and deactivate it using a small button on the back.”
Reaching my hands back to the device, I easily found that the button had a different texture to the rest of the pad. 
I gently rested my finger on the raised bump and looked to Orthus for confirmation that it was alright to turn it on.
He nodded and I applied the pressure required to activate my translator.
The best way to describe how it felt to have an electric signal access my brain, would be to say that it pinched, like plucking hair or a trapped nerve.
It was unpleasant, however it only lasted for a minute or two, after which it felt as though the pressure of the pinch had melted and dispersed inside my brain.  Quite a disconcerting feeling to say the least, yet it seemed to work.
Orthus was speaking.  His words were unfamiliar yet I understood them perfectly.  Although I understood those words, I was a far cry from being able to remember and repeat them, so in here I have written their English equivalent.
“How is it?”  he asked, “can you understand what I’m saying right now?”
“Yes, although,”  I pondered for a moment, “I thought that I would hear English when you spoke, but it’s more like I can simply understand your language.”
Orthus nodded, “I can explain that a bit.  The language that you think in is English, right?”  I nodded.  “But that’s only when you’re aware of what you’re thinking.  When your subconscious is in control, when you’re acting without thinking, there is no language at all, just understanding.  You don’t have to think to understand the words that are being said to you, your brain automatically understands.  That’s how the translator works; it takes the necessary information about the language that is being spoken to you and allows your brain to understand what’s being said.”
“I think I understand,”  I was just about able to keep up, “so in order for a language to be translated, this,” I tapped the device, “needs to have those languages programmed into it?”
“Yes, that’s right.  It does contain every known spoken language in the galaxy, even that of a race that is only jut developing the ability to speak.”
“That’s pretty cool.  Can I ask,” the curiosity was killing me, “your speech now is a lot more informal.  When you spoke English it was a bit more… ” I gestured my hands trying to find the words.
“I think that’s just because the easiest way to learn your language was to use translation guides which don’t teach you abbreviations for simple versions of words. “
“I see,” the words had barely left my mouth before another wave of emotion that had crept up suddenly washed over me.
I gasped as it reached my heart.
With Orthus In the room I became afraid that I would hurt him so I turned my back and began focusing on keeping myself together.
He saw my discomfort and turned to the door, “I think it’s time you saw a doctor.  It was for this reason that I brought you the translator.  I’ll just call her in now.”
The door opened and to, my resounding surprise, into the room slithered a snake.
She was at least two metres long and had a flap of skin round her neck (upper body?) that was the same as the frilled-neck lizards of Earth (or the falsely-frilled Dilophosaurus in the period-misleadingly named Jurassic Park).
Her scales were a deep navy blue with a milky sheen to them and a black pattern zig-zagged along her back.  The shape of the black pattern, I have since learnt, indicates which sex she is.  Her eyes were bright red with flecks of green.  The folds of skin around her neck held hidden patches of bright, sparkling scales that undoubtedly would look startling when the collar was expanded.
Fortunately, I have a love of snakes.  Her appearance did not scare me, it was still however a rather overwhelming shock as she reached me and began to elongate herself upwards until she stood as tall as me, her body completely rigid from the ground to her neck.
The rigidity for the top of her body relaxed as she turned her head this way and that, taking her time to get a good look at me.
“Hello,” I felt that it was probably polite to introduce myself, and I needed an excuse to fill the observant silence, “I’m Laura MacPhaid.”  I fought the urge to extend a hand to the limbless reptile in front of me.
“A pleasure to meet you Laura.”
Her voice was, as one might expect, all hisses and throaty ‘H’ sounds.  Yet, I could understand them, each noise and inflection carrying as much meaning as any word in English that I have ever heard.
“My name is Deia Tine, I am a pan-species doctor.  I have never seen a human in person before, so I hope you’ll forgive my fascination and lack of knowledge, however I am the only telekinetic medical professional on board this vessel so I hope that I can be of a little assistance.”
“You’re telekinetic?” I felt a twinge of relief yet still could not relax, “is it always this overwhelming?”  The urge was growing to turn the room into a tumble dryer.
“I expect so, however it is difficult to say for sure,” her head was tilting in a way that felt sympathetic, perhaps the translator worked on body language as well.  “My telekinetic ability stems from my own emotions, as does that of my people and of the other two races that poses it.  As a result, our ability is minimal.  We can exert no more energy than our bodies are capable of.  Your ability, on the other hand, is tied to the emotions of yourself and everybody that your mind is linked to.  The potential strength of your telekinesis is massive.”
“Oh,” I could not find any way to respond to that, the idea was, at the same time, terrifying and exciting.
“I want to help you,” she continued, “if you will allow me to, I shall attempt to help you to take control of this energy.”
I glanced nervously between Deia and Orthus, “is there no way to stop or close the link?  If it’s as powerful as you say it is, then, it’s too much, I don’t deserve that, or need it.”  Deep down I think that everyone wants super powers of some sort and I cannot deny that, under any other circumstances, I would have been thrilled.
However, given that I was indirectly responsible for so much pain and confusion, there was no way that I could, that I will ever believe myself to be deserving of such a gift.
“Unfortunately,” Orthus spoke up, “there isn’t any way to reverse what has been done, and no way that is known of that would block the link.”
He looked to the doctor, who nodded, as though agreeing that it had become a necessity to tell me something.  I was nervous, however, at the time, I could not help but feel a little relieved that a nod or shake of the head meant the same across species.
Orthus also nodded, “can I leave it to you to explain Deia?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” she replied, “I can take it from here.”
“Thank you, let me know if you need anything.  If you need me at all, Laura MacPhaid, use your console to contact me at any time.”
I thanked him as he left the room, watching after him as he closed the door behind him, although not before I caught a glimpse of another tharat, standing guard outside.
© Rocky Norton,
книга «The Weight of Our World».
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