Xeno Strain (Draft II)

A science fiction tale about a man aboard a mysterious vessel that doesn't seem to have a destination or an origin must discover the truth and the meaning of his existence before time runs out.

The Xeno Strain

Before the man could situate himself into a more awake and upright posture (as he had been slunked over for he didn’t know how long), a very audible, “BOOOOP!” played aloud in his head which took him by surprise. Following the deep, clean, and crisp sounding tone came the following message in an almost predictable voice that matched or harmonized with the preceding tone, 

“This is your conductor, Captain, 425! We all hope you’re having a great trip aboard the Xeno today. It’s 4:37 and the weather outside is beautiful. It’s always beautiful aboard the Xeno because you are always experiencing our round the clock streamlined state-of-the art comfort system complete with a constant 75º temperature to ensure your comfort. Also, don’t forget the comfort kit containing your daily puzzle, an iNtegral with endless ways to explore, a snack card, three full meals, and a nap option that provides you with blanket, pillow, light shield, and your choice of ambience selectable via the directional pad and select key on the right hand control panel. Today we’re passing through the rain forests of the Amazon. Our attendants will be passing you picture books with fascinating trivia about the history of this savage land and the inhabitants that -- some say -- still dwell behind the trees. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to press your call button and someone will be there to --” The voice continued in an all too friendly baritone. He sounded large but not intimidating, unless of course he had to be. 

The air was bleached with an overused sanitary fragrance when the man awoke. It was strange because he knew it was clean but it was in the pure cleanliness that it began to irritate him. The Captain’s voice continued all the while and the man felt like the pleasant smell was obviously masking something else; something that subtly burned his nostrils and wriggled his nose and let out a burst of exhalation. The light was very dim and that didn’t bother him too much because he wasn’t sure yet that he needed to see anything.  

The man wondered as the voice went on if there was ever a time that Captain 425 had to be intimidating and he wondered what that would have been like. What would cause him to be that way? Maybe the Captain never felt that way but the man had a hunch that the Captain was a farce. The voice was spoken as if hooks were pulling back the corners of his mouth up past his ears. It sounded fake to the man and it did not sit well with him at all. The man felt uneasy and irritated. He thought about rummaging through the comfort kit but the very idea seemed to irritate him even further and he became very restless. He started looking around at his surroundings and examining them as best as he could in the dim light. His breathing increased and became more rapid as his eyes darted around his cabin.

Blacks, dim whites, a piercing blue light coming from a tablet that could faintly be seen in the cabin beside him behind frosted glass. He imagined the same cabin beyond and behind him too. Perhaps they went on forever. The man was in his own cabin alone, with no one to talk to. He looked to his left and saw a blurred and censored image of what he imagined to be the very identical cabin that he was in -- only there was someone else inside that cabin. Sliding glass doors separated the cabins with black curtains attached that could be opened or closed. The door was locked though as the man had found gripping the handle carefully and tugging slowly with a shy curiosity. A loud and shrill, “BEEP!” sounded and a agonizingly bright red light pierced his eyes -- the rolling baritone voice still playing in his head. The man reached to plug his ears in a frustrated and absurd attempt to silence the voice in his head but his fingers pressed against a device that was plugging his ear. It was nested neatly just inside his ear in the short time that he had been awake and he had not noticed because of it’s comfortable design. He pulled it out with quivering haste, cringed, and put the device inside of a small tray to his right that dipped in the arm rest beside his cabin’s chair. The man’s attention fell back to the door. The red light had faded away and he noticed a keypad beside the door. 

All of this seemed very familiar to the man. The chair, the voice, the keypad, the message, all of it. It was in this moment that the man realized that he had not remembered ever getting aboard or even entering this cabin. “Have I always been here?” the man thought. It all seemed so strange to him and he looked down at himself in a disoriented way like his head suddenly weighed much less than it had seconds before the recent half-revelation. He was wearing a very black suit. It resembled a track suit but it was all one piece with a reflective white trim that traced his limbs. If dim light were shone upon him from afar, he would appear to be a bright reflective stick figure without a head. The man was unsure of even how he put it on. “Did they dress me in this?” He couldn’t figure out how to get it off. There was no zippers, velcro, buttons are any kind of fastenings that would indicate a removal the suit. He saw a tag on his right breast that read, “Passenger #22739”. 

“Is this my name?” the man said softly aloud almost in tears as came to an agonizing reality that his name was a series of numbers. He hadn’t a clue how to feel about it and looked back at his chair fiddling with the controls to try to call someone. Passenger #22739 ran his hands down his sides anxiously and found his pockets. In his right pocket, he found a crumpled piece of something that felt like a napkin or a paper. He removed it frantically and held it close to his face. The light was so dim that he could barely make out his surroundings besides the dim blue light in the neighboring cabin and the once lit red light that sharply told him to keep away from the door. 

He unwrapped the paper in front of his eyes and made out a small bird. It was yellow in color and quickly became precious to Passenger #22739. It was the only color he had access to. He didn’t understand why but he knew it meant something to him. He thought hard to recall back before he awoke but it was no use. A small inscription was scrawled beneath the image of the bird that was signed, “#526638”. It read, 

“We will remain the self-conscious canaries. We will fight,” further down it read, 

“I love you. Hold on to hope. Everything will be okay.” 

He continued to look at it. He felt a strong connection with this person. He knew they must be a person since they had a number just like he did. #22739 suddenly didn’t feel so alone and didn’t find it and discomforting to have a number for a name. He, however, began to refer to himself in his own mind as, “Canary”. 

Canary’s thoughts were interrupted by a new strange and familiar sound of a kind of “whurring”. He looked up and saw what looked to be a light. It had a glass face and a surrounding white plastic mounting. He reached out for it and pressed his fingers on it hoping to turn it on. It only whurred back at him and twisted around; elongating and shortening itself as if it had been curious about him. He didn’t understand it at all. He looked at it deep in the center of it’s glass face and felt it that it was looking right back at him. He looked away and felt a looming sense of depression wash over him. Canary would have wanted to go back to sleep if it were not for the note in his pocket. He held onto it firmly in his heart and knew it must be worth staying awake for.

Canary thought about what he knew and how he had nothing else to learn from what he had discovered while memorably conscious of himself. He knew that he was moving aboard a train. He did not know his destination or where he had come from. He knew the weary air of the train bothered him as did the horribly dim light inside his cabin. He knew he had a connection with someone else on board -- if they were still on board or if they were ever on board at all! Canary turned his attention the window to his right and looked outside. He saw the lush green trees whooshing by. It was light out there but for some reason the light that touched the outside of his window did not penetrate his dim lit cabin. The Xeno seems to be either reflecting or somehow absorbing the light from outside the window. He kept looking out and saw other birds that were not canaries. They were beautiful but he didn’t have any interest in them. Canary only liked other canaries; yellow, radiant, and unaware as he was. Maybe not unaware. Maybe just something in between.

There was a low tone that came from his sliding glass door and a woman appeared in a different suit than him. It was of thinner and might tighter material. Canary found her pleasant to look at but felt put off suddenly when he realized after viewing her thin body that in comparison, Canary was massive and swollen; a fat blob of a man. She had perfect and stiff hair but her smile seemed off; as if it were pierced into her face; a severe surgical augmentation; that smile. He looked at her and examined her tag -- “Attendant #526638”. For some some reason these numbers couldn’t stick with him. Canary decided to call her simply, “Attendant”. 

“Hey there, sweetie! Here’s you tour guide! In case you hadn’t had your ear piece in, we’re passing through the Amazon rain forests. We’ll be leaving them shortly so make sure you look quick because we’re going to be shooting across the ocean before you know it!” She left him and the door locked with a “BEEP!” 

Canary looked wide-eyed at the booklet. It was a simple book with colorful pictures. The pages were illuminated as he turned them. It was tiresome, uninteresting, and shallow; nothing could be gained from it. He stashed it beneath his seat. When his fingers pressed the booklet back, he accidentally pushed back his comfort kit and stumbled upon something different. It was a different book. It felt well worn. Something new. He  pushed it back accidentally with excitement and had to strain his position to reach back and pull back the pages with his fingertips. It slowly came to him. It was something else. Sweat broke from his brow and he let out a dull grunt. His frustration was building and his impatience was opaque like the black curtains on the sliding glass door. Canary wanted to cry. “Why is this so hard?” Canary remembered Attendant and how thin she was. Canary was fat. His body didn’t allow him to struggle more than he needed to in order to reach what they wanted him to; the people watching from the lens. Reaching over his fat body, he strained and sweat. He felt the pages inching closer finally. He fit the paperback piece of literature between his middle and fore-finger and tugged it back. With a long exhalation, he felt relieved as he re-situated himself and held it in front of him. 

It was dull as the light. It was faded, he could tell. It had faded color. He held it up to his face closer. It smelled of an unknown stink. It was dirty and dusty and reeked of mold. This was something that would set off some people and definitely most of the passengers but Canary found it somehow alluring. There was a picture on the front. He couldn’t quite make it out but it looked like a picture of a cave; giant and wide and deep. He understood the size of it because in the corner of the picture there was a small person holding a kind of lantern that lit up the cave. The literature had no title. He opened it and it was all kinds of text. Canary’s heart sank. It was too difficult to make out. There was a headline, however, in a larger font and it was the only large print throughout the whole piece. It read, “Mementos of the Forgotten Ones”. Searing it into his mind, he memorized it. He fell into himself and horrified at the notion that he might forget it. He had to know what the rest of this said.

“Bleeeeeeeeeeep -- Click!”

Canary’s door opened. Another large man looked at him curiously. It was like he was looking in the mirror only his reflection was separated and moving on it’s own. Canary looked at him perplexed. Canary looked at the living reflection’s suit. The other’s tag read, “#3253”. He knew it wasn’t him -- though it looked like him. This was a relief. The man spoke after a moment of apparent realization and a smile came across his face,

“Heeeeeyyyyyyyyyy! You’re #22739!” said #3253 in a very friendly tone as if they knew one another.

“Ye-yes. I am.”

“I finished my puzzle for today!”

“Oh. And?”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Was I supposed to?”

“Well if you knew the rules provided by the comfort kit, you’d know that in order to have visitation and discovery time, one must first complete the puzzle. And my puzzle was a word game that revealed a secret between myself and you! It told me that my neighbor is an old friend! The puzzle’s answer reminded me that you and I go waaay back! Pretty neat, huh?” 

Canary felt vulnerable and it wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t know this man, not even slightly as his memory served him. He still didn’t understand but he played along in case just for some reason it might be true. Canary knew that he knew nothing. He just looked at the man and hoped that maybe a new answer or clue to help him discover the secret of the literature or the piece of paper he found in his pocket. He thought for a moment of sharing them with the man but something kept him from sharing. What if they were confiscated? Canary couldn’t risk it.

“Ohhh. Wow!” Canary said with a slow change of attitude.

“Yeah! You should check out that comfort pack, man! It’s really awesome! I was exploring the iNtegral and it’s great! It lets you talk to the other passengers through a network. You can also look up all the information about the train shuttle, Xeno; it’s history and fun trivia. There are games and art activities. It’s so great!” Canary realized that the blue light that he saw faded through the frosted glass door was this other passenger exploring his provided iNtegral. He continued, “And the food here is great! And when you get sleepy or bored of what there is in the kit and the scenery out the window -- which is aMAzing, by the way -- HAVE YOU SEEN THE FOREST OR THE OCEAN RIGHT NOW?! GLORIOUS! Oh,” he cleared his throat, “but yeah, when you get bored of it, the comfort system is so wonderful. You just put on your padded light shield helmet and choose your method of sleep and your off on a completely new adventure. I love Xeno. It’s perfect.” 

“Wow. I’m sorry, I just woke up. I guess I should explore this. It’s all been so confusing but I got distracted and confused.” Canary still had his mission to find the answer but he couldn’t help but want to explore the iNtegral and the rest of the experience aboard the Xeno. Maybe the iNtegral would provide him with some more clues. Canary looked at his neighbor and felt somehow reassured because of how comfortable his neighbor was. The way about him that was so ignorant. He wasn’t asking questions about anything but instead just was going along with everything like his whole life was meant for entertainment.

“Oh, YEAH! I’ll just go back and let you explore! Nice to see you again, man! I’ll look you up on the iNtegral since I know your number now! See ya!” #3253 turned and waddled back into his cabin and the door closed automatically followed by a “BEEP!” and punctuated by a soft mechanical focussing of the glass lens in the corner of the cabin. The light went dim again.

Canary thought and thought hard. He opened the comfort kit cautiously; knowing that it might tempt him to distract from his self-motivated mission. The soft and sleek design was so appealing. It was ovular and seemed to shine even in the thick grey faded light. Canary located the power button on the side and pressed it. The screen was back-lit up enough to see and the blue power light illuminated a few inches of space. A message came up on the screen that was from #3253 saying, “Hey there! Here I am! Haha! Isn’t this great? Come over and --” Canary irritably deleted the message. He saw a panel on the bottom with lit up square shapes with rounded corners that all were labeled with the different activities to be explored on the iNtegral: Artpad, iN-box, Games, Research, Connect, and there were more applications too with the option to unlock more applications the more time one used the iNtegral.

Canary looked at the blue light and remembered the journal. He picked it up and held it close to the light. A glint from outside caught his eye. He looked out the window and saw metal towers sticking up out of the ocean as they raced across it on invisible tracks. The towers had round metallic balls attached to them and looked new. He wondered if they had something to do with the train but couldn’t think past that and instead gazed at the deep blue water for a time; wondering.

The first lines that Canary were able to read using the blue light were, “The Xeno! A new and exciting idea for exploring new worlds, touring our own, and developing a better world for you! At least, that’s what they want you to think. The purpose of this journal is communication. Over terms of time, men and women of the Xeno have slowly understood subtle truths about it that are most disturbing. These men and women are responsible for this journal which has been printed with limited press copies that are scattered across the Xeno. Our purpose is to make people understand and stand up for the truth! We must destroy the Xeno! Keep this journal safe! If they ever found out about it, that would mean one less journal and we are unsure how many have already been destroyed. Our memories are wiped daily so we must reclaim ourselves accordingly and add to the already established notes within these journals. When you are through with your notes for the day, keep the journal beneath your seat. They don’t search there. The comfort kits are self sufficient and are collected physically. Remember, the Xeno is a life of servitude. The Xeno is a life unnoticed. The Xeno is a parasite that feasts upon our delicate resources by reducing the cosmos’ precious light like a traveling black hole. . .” Canary’s mouth was agape in disbelief upon trailing off the introduction. A feeling of nausea came over him; not only physically but mental and emotional nausea. Canary’s life as of now meant that he was a man aboard this train shuttle; and nothing more. He knew that there was something more. Canary wanted to be outside where he felt that he belonged; instead he was trapped inside a vessel without a true keen sense of reality; a man with no quality of life but to toil. He flipped through the journal. Beyond the introduction was several pages of hand written diagrams and notes. Skimming through the notes he kept arriving at the same repeated note, “Find the captain!”

Another loud, “BOOOOP!” sounded aloud from his earpiece on the tray next to him along the arm rest and the Captain’s voice could barely be heard. It was more about the scenery and so on and probably an announcement about food. Canary was hungry but he didn’t care. Something inside of Canary made him want to reach the Captain; the Conductor. He knew that the only way to get out was to solve the puzzle. In opening the comfort kit again, Canary revealed the rest of its contents; the snack card with a series of numbers that kept his feed records for the day, the neatly folded plush blanket and pillow compacted and vacuum sealed. At the bottom of the bag was the puzzle. It was a series of tangled cord all around a ball. An instruction sheet explained that the tangled web must be untangled and unraveled after removing it from the ball without cutting the string. Canary looked at it and began to carefully separate and meticulously unravel the string. ***elaborate further***

The ball fell free after several minutes of working the loops of string around it. The puzzle was difficult and tedious. Canary felt like the reward for the puzzle being solved wasn’t worth the work involved. Just to be able to leave and visit a neighbor and explore the Xeno didn’t sound very interesting to Canary. He was more interested in finding a way to the Captain. Then he might be able to change things or know the answer to it all. Maybe Canary would even be able to go outside. He almost swooned at the notion. He continued to work at the puzzle thinking about the person connected to the paper in his pocket, the journal, the conductor, and how they might all be connected. The window caught Canary’s attention again as they were soaring through a vast tundra of ice and formations of glaciers and icebergs that rose high over the water’s surface and hung with an eerie and looming majesty; reflecting the light toward the train shuttle very brightly. The train seemed to be moving faster since they left the rain forest. Canary began to worry as if his time was running out. He had already slept for too long and the day was running out. He had to contribute to the journal somehow and apparently the conductor was the key. He toiled more focussed than before.

Canary pulled loop after loop through other loops in a confusing series of unwinding. Finally after what seemed like hours, he pulled the last loop out and stretching the cord out making a perfect cord continuation free from intersection. The cord was continuous and perfect; there were no flaws. Canary rang for the attendant and the same thin and dimple-stricken woman as before in the tight suit came back to greet him.

“Are you finished with your puzzle?”

“Why, yes, I just happen to be finished!” Canary said with delight as if this was the first thing that Canary had done with intention and purpose successfully.

“Well, isn’t that wonderful?! Would you like to explore the Xeno or to visit a neighbor?”

“I would like to explore the Xeno!”

“Wonderful!” bursted the attendant with unnerving glee; her hair never moving at all, “Let me show you out.”

“Uhm, excuse me? I was wondering where the captain’s cabin is located.”

“Oh, that’s off limits. It’s at the back of the Xeno behind the photon processors. You can read about it on your iNtegral. Would you like to bring your iNtegral with you? You can wander the Xeno and see all of the stands and shows that are offered in the square! Come, let me show you!”

Canary reached out and grabbed his iNtegral and was led out into the main corridor. Canary never imagined that the Xeno was so huge. He was used to his comfortable cabin. Once the attendant opened the door, the went down a short hallway to a second door. She swiped a card over a red light above the keypad. “click,” the door slowly swung open. The doors must have weighed twice as much as Canary. 

Beyond the door was a flood of light. The entire plaza was filled with stands and theaters and ballrooms and all sorts of things like a giant indoor bizarre or fair. There were even amusement rides all decorated with bright lights of different colors that streaked the air as they passed like paint brushes. A kind of carousel was suspended in the center of the room and spun like a top. It looked like it was being powered by two light cores at the top and bottom where bright light burned guarded by black shielding. A metal tapering cone worked it’s way to the base of the carousel. It might have been magnetic or something, Canary thought. The whole ride was decorated with blinding images of kings and queens all dressed in strange garb and a sign hung above the ride that read in bright fluorescent light, “The Dancer”. Again, Canary was faced with his attention being tempted by his environment. This time though he was so focussed on finding the conductor that he ignored the lights and the smiling faces. He knew he was running out of time.

Canary turned on the iNtegral and tapped the box that was labeled, “Research”. He navigated it until he found information about the Captain. It showed where his location was in relation to the rest of the Xeno and also where the Captain was in relation to Canary. “You are here” was the text read beneath a blue dot that indicated where Canary stood in the middle of the plaza. Canary would have to make his way through a corridor that led past the photon processors in order to reach the Captain’s cabin. Canary needed a plan. He looked around him and saw a place to sit nearby a beverage stand. Walking up to the stand, Canary asked the man for a beverage in order to sit and the man obliged by offering him a small cylindrical container of brown sizzling liquid. While Canary sat, he sipped from the container the brown beverage. It was hot but sweet and bubbly and refreshing. 

Canary eyed the direction that he would need to go and saw a locked door indicated by a red light as he recognized from his own cabin door. An attendant that looked like the attendant from before slid a card key over the top of the keypad and went through. He needed this card key. Another identical woman walked past him. Canary slowly rose out of his seat finishing his container and dropping it into a trash compacting receptacle and proceeded to follow the attendant. As canary followed her, he noticed more people that looked identical to himself only they all had different hair colors and lengths. It was then that he also noticed the women that were around him. They were all of similar size and shape; almost spherical and also with differing hair colors and lengths. All of the people in the plaza waddled about like penguins as if to shift their weight in such a way that they would propel themselves forward without tipping over. They way that they moved could be compared to a person moving a large appliance; having to push one side, and then the other, in order for the appliance to cover any ground and get closer to the destination that it was being pushed in.

Canary continued to follow the woman to a separate stand. She sat down and he sat down nearby getting a second beverage. This time it was a cold and icy slush of green liquid that was sour but just as satisfying as the one before it. Canary saw her key card dangling from a cord connected to her suit. He couldn’t figure out how to get it from her. He hoped that she would finish her drink soon and walk to the same door as the attendant he saw earlier. Canary hoped and hoped with all of his heart. If he couldn’t get to the Captain’s cabin, he would resort to something more drastic. He couldn’t imagine living on the Xeno and being happy like the rest of the passengers around him. 

The attendant rose and began to walk towards the same door as the attendant before and Canary was elated. However, he knew not how we was going to follow her through. Just then, he knew what he must do. Nothing else mattered to him. He had to get to the Captain’s cabin before it was too late. The attendant started to swipe her card. Canary creeped behind her and rose his iNtegral high above her head and struck her down. The door beeped open and he ripped the card from her suit leaving behind a naked patch of flesh. She was on the floor and twitching, mouth agape. An alarm sounded and everyone looked in Canary’s direction as he closed the door behind him. 

Canary found himself in a long corridor with a series of cords all arranged against the walls that led to other areas of the Xeno. He thumbed open the journal quickly and saw a diagram of the room his was in leading to a private cabin. He figured that he was deeper in now where he would be getting close. He had to hurry. They couldn’t be far behind him. He ran down the corridor as the only way that he could. The corridor became increasingly narrow as he made his way; sweating and straining and breathing heavier and heavier making his stress more audible as he went; grunting and panting. Sweat poured down his face and his heart pounded in his chest. Canary was almost sure that he would die before he reached the Captain’s cabin. He began to hear voices behind him. they were muffled by a sound of a droning buzz that came from the neatly organized cords that ran systematically lining the walls of the corridor. Canary didn’t look back. He saw a door in front of him made of clear and thick transparent glass. It was the Captain’s cabin. A man with long blonde hair stood inside; his back turned away from Canary. The voices were getting closer and he could make out the words now.

“GET HIM!” “TRAITOR!” “MURDERER!” “REBEL!” “MUTINY!” “THE B*****D!”

Canary reached out and knocked against the glass and pressed the journal against it along with the picture from his pocket that read, “We will remain the self-conscious canaries. We will fight. I love you. Hold on to hope. Everything will be okay.” in a desperate attempt to get the man’s attention. The man turned around. The people behind him were nearly caught up to him. The man was not a man at all but was a tall medium built woman with long blonde hair. She stood wide-eyed at him with shock as if to recognize him. She saw the journal and the paper. Canary look at her and his heart flew. The tag on her suit read, “27488269”. She saw him and did nothing but stand before him mouth agape; tears in her eyes. There was a large window behind her and behind the window was a black abyss. There was nothing but specks of white. One of the specks of white was brilliant and bright and shone behind the woman with a radiance unparalleled; and she stood silhouetted in front of it. 

For a brief moment time stood still for Canary and “27488269”. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Somehow they connected even without speaking. A spark of the unknown was illuminated and they understood the subtleties of the unknown; the abyss in view; a inconceivably massive abyss -- but they saw it. In seeing the unknown, they knew it was unknown. They were observers. The woman pulled out the same journal and flipped it open to a page and pressed it up against the glass in response. The woman’s journal showed a picture of the Xeno headed into a star and breaking apart. Canary saw the back of his journal and there was an image of a person in a thin space suit with a large helmet that inhibited one from seeing their face; like a fishbowl with a mirror on the outside surface reflecting the image of those looking into the face of the cosmonaut and the journal said, 

“I am the metaphysical cosmonaut. I am not in my own world but rather floating in between worlds; a traveler with no beginning and no end in site. I gaze out into the abyss and it gazes back. Floating, I observe silently; an outsider; an alien. I see the stars. I see the people. I see all the planets and the moons and debris. I see space and everything in between and -- I see no God here. But from time to time, I feel something not seen. Perhaps, I am God. Perhaps, God or gods cannot be seen but only subtly felt through magical experiences like music, ritual, and meditation. While I float here and observe, I know that nothing can exist without my perception of it; nothing can be defined. Without my perception; without my senses, the doors of perception are closed and reality ceases to exist. I see Nothing and Nothing sees me. We believe in one another. We exist and we do not exist and it is beautiful chaosmos.”

Before a sharp pain went into Canary’s thigh, he knew that whatever he had to do was done. The journal ended with the captain and he understood now that the Captain was gone and this magnificent angel was saving them all. He did not look back. He gazed into the woman’s eyes and he knew her. Suddenly, Canary felt very different. He began to imagine the plaza and the iNtegral and his own cabin and things began to make sense to Canary. The journal and the paper fell to the floor and from his grip and he began to drift away.

When Canary awoke, he was back in his cabin. He eased his seat back and looked out the window at the desert of the Sahara. An attendant came to him and he felt at peace. Canary felt no connection to the journal, the paper, or the woman anymore. They had put him back into a state of bliss and ignorance. 

“Would you care for a booklet on the Sahara Desert today? Would you be interested in a snack? Perhaps a nap time?”

“A nap sounds wonderful. Yes, Please!” Canary felt a smile stretch across his face though it had already been there -- stretching it wider in a gruesome façade like a clown; like a mask hiding a faceless or headless man. Passenger #22739, otherwise and previously known to himself as “Canary” had a helmet of the most comfortable padding lowered over his head. The darkness was absolute. He his feet down and feeling what felt like a magazine or some piece of literature beneath his chair. He situated himself and rubbed his hands along his suit feeling a crumpled up paper in his pocket from earlier. The passenger chose an ambience from a selection, “A Pleasant Breeze” and also “A Quietly Ticking Clock” and fell into the most deep, warm, and comfortable slumber.

Author's Note

I apologize for my own notes here. I just had to remind myself as an aside for some things.

Reviews

[Mrs. Hooker]

Fun to read story with some really good, vivid descriptive phrases. I loved "The voice was spoken as if hooks were pulling back the corners of his mouth up past his ears"

I think it could benefit from a "show, don't tell" edit. I have to do it in my own stories all the time. What I mean is, go through the story and when you find a place where you're telling the reader something very directly, find a way to "show" instead. For instance, "The man felt uneasy and irritated" could be replaced with something like "He picked at his fingernail the way he did when he was in line at the post office with only one mailman available." or "He pursed his lips like he was looking for a toilet in a foreign country." You get the idea!

[I Cast a Shadow]

Thank you so much! I never get reviews anymore! Haha. This was by far the best one! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I really want to finish this story and send it in to various science fiction magazines, etc.