Eye of Ra (9 page)

“As you command,” it answered. “Please follow me.”

“Wait …what?” He stood there now confused.

“If returning to the planet’s surface will help your mental and emotional state I will assist in the healing process. You will need proper attire before you can return to the surface. Your old attire was disposed of due to it being unsalvageable. This way please.”

Slowly he once again followed the familiar as it glided across the floor leading him out of the dining hall and down the hallway. He paused and quickly turned to see his bowl morph into a silver ball as the table it was on slid and tilted, dropping it and its contents into a port that opened up in the floor, while his seat floated back to its spot and sunk back into the floor. He then watched in amazement as the port closed and the table descended like the seat, returning to its spot in the floor.

Shaking his head, he turned to see the familiar waiting for him. He continued to follow it. Several yards away from the dining hall, circular doors split open and granted them entrance. The lights turned on automatically, revealing to Laurence what appeared to be a wardrobe room.

He looked around, unnerved and curious. On one side of the room were six huge silver tubes lined up next to one another, running the length of the wall and ceiling of the room. On the other side of the room were sets of outfits that appeared to be straight out of ancient Egypt. As Laurence moved closer to inspect and touch them, he could instantly tell that they had an “otherworldly” stamp.

“If you’re expecting me to put one of these on and rock a skirt …” he scowled.

“Negative,” it answered. “That attire is both outdated and unsuitable for your planet’s current era. We will be fabricating a proper outfit for you to wear during your outing. Would you prefer a full suit, or a shirt and pants set?”

“Fabricate?” He snorted. “You gonna sew some gear for me?”

“I will not be sewing you anything,” it turned to him. “These sub-atomic weaving tubes will be used to produce your clothing based on prior body scans taken from you. Please specify the type of outfit design you would prefer.”

“How about a hoodie set and some kicks?” He shrugged.

“Uploading standard urban sweat suit pattern with hood, increasing size pattern for comfort and style. Would you prefer running or basketball shoes, any personal color preferences?”

 “Red and black for color,” he answered while rubbing his head. “Basketball for the sneaks.”

His attention was turned to one of the tubes as it came alive with green lights and a low hum.

“Fabrication nearing completion in less than a minute,” it concluded.

“That fast?” He turned to it dumbfounded.

“The requested outfit is not that complicated.” It answered back. “Fabrication has been completed.”

The tube opened up releasing a cloud of white steam. Laurence cautiously approached the tube with his gut in his throat. It stayed there as he beheld thought brought to existence in seconds. He quickly looked over his shoulder at the familiar as if looking for permission before reaching in and taking out the articles of clothing. The hooded sweatsuit was mainly black with red piping around the hood and red accents on different parts of the outfit. The material was thick yet soft with a velvet shine to it.

  Next he reached in for the sneakers, which had a similar color scheme as the sweat suit. Their style was similar to Air Jordans, yet they appeared much sleeker and felt as if they barely had any weight. Just before he was about to ask for socks, he noticed a pair in black made from the same material as the sweat suit.

“This is off the chain,” he nodded with approval. “But you couldn’t make a brother some boxers?”

“If you are concerned about reduced sperm count, I can assure you that your current undergarment will not interfere with or reduce your procreation capabilities,” it answered. “In fact I detect that your sperm count has increased …”

“Do me a favor,” he held up a hand stopping it mid-sentence. “Do not talk to me about my balls or my sperm, ever, are we clear?”

“As you command,” it bowed in servitude.

He walked a couple steps away giving it his back for some distance and privacy and got dressed. He marveled at how soft and weightless the outfit’s material felt against his skin. As he donned the socks and sneakers, the wall next to him became shiny and reflective so that he could view himself as he stood up. A shiver came over him as he smoothed out his outfit giving himself a look over. It was a bit unsettling seeing someone both old and new at the same time. Feeling whole once again, he quickly swatted away a mist forming on his eyes as he gave a nod of approval.

“Yeah, this will work.”

“For your protection I must attach myself to you before we head to the surface,” informed the familiar slithering up to him.

“What do you mean ‘attach’?” He asked stepping backward.

“I possess the ability to further reduce my size and alter my shape taking the inconspicuous form of either a bracelet or necklace.”

“How about neither?” Laurence declared. “Why don’t you just transform into a walking stick, and I’ll carry you?”

“These are the protocols for returning to the surface,” it stated. “If you choose not to follow them we will just proceed with the inject …”

“I’ll follow! I’ll follow them!” He gave in.

Laurence took a deep breath before extending his right hand. Effortlessly it began to wrap itself and slither up his arm while shrinking in size until it looked like a thick exotic bracelet coiled around his forearm. Some of his fear and uncertainty melted away as he gave it a fascinated look over.

Fear returned tenfold as the familiar’s eyes began to glow brightly, causing the air in front of him to crackle. He stumbled backwards as electricity surged from out of thin air. It intensified as blue and white sparks began to foam and expand outward from the electrical fireworks creating an oval vertical door. The energy from the hole subsided a bit as it kept its form. A wide-eyed Laurence curiously shuffled over to it to see what he could only describe as universes and dimensions clashing into one another. Memories of his father’s physics lessons flooded his mind, because they mirrored what he was seeing. He was looking into a tear in the curtain of space and time.

“This is …some kind of portal …isn’t it?” He swallowed.

“Correct,” answered the familiar on his arm. “In your language it is called a dimensional jump portal. By stepping through you can travel virtually anywhere within the known universe.”

Laurence stepped closer to the portal, then recoiled as panic leapt into his spinal column giving him a cattle prod shock.

“Oh hell no! Ain’t there another way? A ship or a submarine?”

“This transport does not contain miniature vessels,” informed the familiar. “It does not require any considering that dimensional jump portals are both the safest and fastest mode of transportation. It is how I brought you onto this ship.”

“Well where the hell does this portal lead to?” He pointed.

“I will be transporting us to downtown Beverly Hills, California.”

“You’re taking me to Cali?” He screwed up his face.

“Affirmative,” it answered. “It is on the West Coast of North America, where you are still a citizen and not wanted for murder and within a location where you will not be accidently mistaken for a local gang member.”

Laurence looked over his color scheme again and nodded, understanding its logic.

“So what …I just walk through?” He threw his hands up.

“Correct,” it answered. “The moment you step through; you will exit the portal and arrive at your destination.”

Laurence muttered a curse under his breath and shook off his trepidation. He sucked into his lungs a healthy amount of artificial oxygenated air and forced himself to march toward the portal. He pushed through jolt after jolt of fear that hit his spine. His heart quickened as he commanded his legs to obey him, then ran into the portal. His eyelids wanted to close to shield his eyes from what they might see, but he forced them to stay open for the entire ride.

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

Seconds later, a mystified and slightly disoriented Laurence found himself stepping out of a dimensional portal into what appeared to be a back alleyway in downtown Beverly Hills. He braced himself against a wall, taking a minute to get his bearings after having stepped through a rip in reality that had allowed him to travel across space, dimensions, and possibly time. There were no words to describe how he felt.

“Brah …” was all he could utter.

“Disorientation is a common symptom during dimensional jumps,” the familiar diagnosed his current ailment. “It shall pass, and eventually you will adapt to it.”

“Aight, I’m through. You can let go of my arm now,” Laurence ordered.

“That is a negative, and against protocol,” answered the familiar on his arm.

“Say what?” He scowled.

“As I stated before, in order to protect you I must remain attached to you while you are top-side until your emotional state of mind is healed. Your heartbeat and pulse are elevated, and you are producing condensation,” it diagnosed. “I suspect you will attempt to flee from me if I were to release you. I cannot allow that, as my primary order is to protect you.”

“What the hell do you know of my state of mind?” He spat at it.

He attempted to get a grip on the bracelet converted familiar to rip it from his arm.

“Now get off me! Get the fuck off me now!”

“Despite your enhancements you will not be able to remove me,” the mechanized cobra stated. “If you continue this irrational attempt I will have no choice but to subdue and return you back to the transport until you come to your senses.”

A frustrated Laurence froze as he felt its metallic fangs hovering over his skin prepared to strike.

“Aight! Aight yo!” He quickly released it. “Just chill, and do not bite me!”

“Shall we now proceed in finding you sustenance?” It asked.

“Unless you have the ability to fabricate some cash …” He began his sarcastic statement.

“Please proceed to the automated teller machine located at the end of the block once you exit this alley and bare right.”

“But I don’t have a …”

“Please proceed,” it said again.

Laurence gave it a death stare before covering it up with his sleeve and obeying its commands, leaving the alley. He walked deliberately slowly to give himself some time to think how he could rid himself of the mechanical alien parasite on his arm. His first thought was to run and tell someone, but he was pretty sure they would look at him as if he was crazy. He was also sure that if he attempted to make his way to the authorities it would know and put his lights out without hesitation. The next time he woke up would be back on the spaceship screaming and urinating from an abdominal injection. On top of that, he doubted that his current look and attire would grant him a sympathetic ear from anyone with a gun or a badge. The most he was sure to get was a pair of handcuffs and a trip to a psych ward for indefinite observation. What was even scarier was he was sure his current captor would use extremely violent means to prevent it from happening. Bad enough he was currently wanted for murder on the East Coast, the last thing he needed was to be accused of being a cop killer on the West. He cursed a slew of profanities within his skull as he realized that he was a prisoner of this alien creature for a bit longer.

While he was brooding about being a captive, there was a small part of his mind that considered the majority of the familiar’s actions. It had saved him from dying at the hands of Brick Bear, then nursed him back to a level of health that was beyond anything he had felt in years even before his habit. It had clothed him and was now trying to feed him. How evil could it be if it was willing to do all of that for him? Was he giving in to the typical impulse to pre-judge the unknown? He wrestled with whether it was truly friendly or grooming him to be a zombie soldier for an alien invasion.

“We have reached our destination.”

Its words put the thoughts swirling in his head on hold as he turned and approached the ATM.

“Now what?” He asked looking down at it.

The ATM screen lit up without him touching it as the churning sound of it about to dispense cash was made. The words “Please take your cash” appeared on the screen as a large stack of bills shot out of the dispenser. A shaken Laurence quickly looked around again before grasping the stack of cash revealing it to be hundreds and fifties.

“What the …” He swallowed.

“I believe one thousand dollars is a sufficient amount of funds to get a reasonable meal in this location.” The familiar deduced.

“How … how… how …?” He stammered while looking around.

“I simply communicated with the bank’s software to release the maximum amount of funds allowed by this machine,” it explained. 

“Did you just hack this ATM?” Laurence whispered as he continued to scan the area.

“If you are inquiring if I illegally accessed this automated teller machine, that is a negative,” informed the familiar. “I merely withdrew funds from the account that I opened in your name, which currently holds transferred funds that can be accessed and converted into the proper currency.”