User:Ermine/Pyrrha
{{#ifeq: User |User| Pyrrha | Pyrrha}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Pyrrha | Pyrrha}}| ]]
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Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}| ]]
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Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Ermine | Ermine}}]]
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}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
The light sparkled off the dribbling stream. The water swam beside the bank and the ledge that sloped steeply into the stream. A light wind bristled through the leaves on the trees, and the orange sunlight shimmered off the ripples and crests of the quivering stream.
I slid down the ledge and landed upon the sharp pebbles amidst the soily bank. The rocks dug into my feet; I had left my shoes and socks on the ledge overlooking the brook. I had decided that I would like to wade into the water, just a short ways, to get the feel of the water, and the rushing of the current against my ankles.
I gave a brief shiver as I stepped into the cool water. I could feel the breeze nip against my arms and my lower leg. I looked up towards the sunlight, wondering if there would be any warmth I could expect from that dim, orange orb in the sky. I brushed my hair aside and tried to relax.
This was the first time that I had ever been to this place; this was the first time I had tried this one particular animal; I wanted it to be good.
I calmed myself down. I wasn't in charge of whether it would be good or not; none of it was under my control, anyway. I took a deep breath once more and breathed in the cool air around me.
I wiggled my toes slowly amongst the sand and rocks in the stream. I thought to myself: Are they slow because of the change, or is it because of the water? I bent down and examined them. My feet seemed to be slightly darker, but perhaps that was just a shadow. My toenails, though, looked like they were getting sharper; I reached out and stroked them. My hand was getting darker, as well, and my fingernails were also becoming sharper.
I brought my hand up before my face, and I then saw that it was not merely the fingernails getting sharper, but that my fingers were getting shorter.
Bringing my hand down, I looked up at the sky and breathed in the air around me. There was a pungent smell in the air. Yes; the musk of a mink.
I wrested off my shirt and tossed it off onto the shore. I looked down my chest and fingered the fur that was growing around me. A patch of white fur spread underneath my chin. I looked across my arm and watched as the dark brown fur spread up and down my arm. I brought my head down to smell it; my nose was already growing into a snout, and I cliumsily bumped my nose into my arm.
My balance was now getting wobbly; my feet and my legs had shrunk to a shorter length, and my capris were now dipping into the water. I unbuttoned and unzippered them and lifted my foot to fit through the leg hole. My other foot not built for holding itself up, I toppled into the water.
I drifted for just a short time before pushing my hands into the silty bottom and stopping myself. Kicking off my capris, I looked across myself and my changing body. Man, I thought, if this was the real world, I would totally freak out. My body was covered in smooth, brown hairs, and my fingers and toes had become stubby, webbed, and taloned. I could also see a tail reaching out underneath my loose-hanging panties. I looked around me before remembering that no one would neither recognize me nor see me, and then cast off my underpants.
I was now really getting freaked out, releasing another blast of mink musk from... my butt? Yuck. With the paws that barely sufficed for hands, I took off my bra and tossed it away. It didn't matter, I realized; this is just a moment to enjoy. I lifted up my feet and started swimming.
I was impressed by how big the world had suddenly gotten; for a moment, it made me forget about anything, about how I first felt when I changed into such a small creature, and it made me feel as if, for the first time, I was free. The cage that had entrapped me was now big enough to let me through, to slip away.
With a final flip of my tail, I slipped beneath the water.
--
I strove through the long corridor with a slight skip in my steps. I reached the metal doors at the end of the hallway and pushed them open, letting the strong burst of sunlight rush around me. I looked around and turned towards the smiling man that stood behind the counter.
"So, how was it? Did you enjoy it?"
I shrugged mildly as I walked up to him. "Same as always. I'm still disappointed that they don't let you think like a mink, however. But it was good."
"Would you like to fill out one of our sheets, so you can tell us how we can make it better?"
"Chris, you already know I write the same thing down every time."
"Well," he shrugged, still smiling, "maybe it will be different this time."
"It was the usual. A nice sort of usual, though."
"Oh? A little perk, somewhere?"
"I have a soft spot for sunsets."
"Ah."
"The leaves, too. I really like autumn as well."
"I hear they were working hard on the river. They've been moving from the flat, empty places to the more natural environments. On a side note, I also hear they're working on a tropical beach. Even if you're not thinking of a transformation, it still sounds like a good place to unwind."
I looked off to my left as he said this. He was still sitting there. That man with the thick, coarse brown hair, the rough stubble, and the small hands wrenched against the table, was sitting in the same spot that I had seen him four days ago.
There was something new about his appearance, though. "That coffee he's holding. Where did that..."
"Special request from the boss. She wants him to be comfortable, as long as he's here."
Neither of us said anything for a moment. "I'll try talking to him again."
"How long are you planning on staying?"
"Not long, maybe half an hour."
"Did you pay in advance?"
"Yes, but I can pay more."
"You know you'll get charged for extra time."
"I think I can get something out from him."
"If you want to try, go ahead. You've gotten farther with him than I've bothered."
"Could I have a cup of coffee, like what he has?"
"Oh, sorry. The coffee's just for him, right now. Couldn't make you coffee, anyway. It doesn't come from here."
"Fine. I'll do without."
"Good luck," Chris said as he took out a rag and began sweeping the counter, even though the counter was never dirty in the first place.
As I approached, the man broke his gaze from the corner of the room and looked at me. His face showed no emotion as I took a seat across from him. I gave a short smile at him, and he kept looking at my face, expectedly.
"I did a mink today," I said simply.
His eyebrows barely rose, before they settled. "Where?" he said.
"They had a new environment, by a river. I wanted to check it out, so I tried a mink."
"Was it fun?"
With my eyes, I traced the outline of the table's edge. "I enjoyed it. It was a very relaxing thing." I paused. "It's one of those things you should try. As long as you're here, you ought to try one out. They can be very relaxing."
He nodded slowly.
"So what have you been doing here?" I asked.
"Drinking coffee," he just said.
"Is it any good?"
"Well, it's the best coffee they've got." A smile came to his face after he said this. "I almost feel like a king, getting free coffee to drink." He took another sip.
"You know..." I said, wanting to approach this subject lightly, "of all the times I sat down with you, I've never asked you your name."
He glanced at me, and a weak smirk appeared on his face. After some hesitation, he said, "Robert Yagel, Ph.D."
"Dr. Yagel? Nice. I'm Maggie Hendricks."
He nodded again. "Hendricks. I know I've heard that name before..."
"A lot of people are named Hendricks, probably. I once had a podiatrist named Hendricks."
"Hmmm... Podiatrist?"
"Oh, I once had a fracture in my ankle in college."
"College..." Once again, he turned towards the corner of the room.
"So, you're a doctor?"
"A research professor."
"Must have been exciting." I personally doubted it, really.
"It was a good job," his eyes wandered back to the table.
"I'm a ceramic project engineer for a ceramics engineering company."
"Hmmm," he nodded and looked away.
"It's more exciting than it sounds, really. There's a lot more to ceramics than you'd think. There's different types of ceramics, for instance; some are used for dishes and such, and it's also used for flooring, and for airplanes, and... Oh, sorry, I'm boring you, aren't I?"
"Not too much." He kept staring at the wall. I turned and followed his gaze, just to see what he was looking at. He seemed to be looking at the window.
"What are you looking at?" I asked.
"Thought I saw someone."
I recalled a conversation I had had with him a week or so ago, when I asked him briefly about what he did here. "One of the corrupted folks?"
"If it was, he's gone," he turned down to his coffee.
I looked back at him. "Is this job lonely?" I asked, not really knowing why I said that.
"It's... a fitting job."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He looked back up, his eyes suddenly tumultuous with a look of... what was it? Shock, maybe, but not of disgust, or of horror, but almost of agony. I realized that I had crossed some boundary, a threshold of discomfort, and sat there, trying to avert my eyes from his, trying to stifle the growing quiver down my back.
He stood up, took his coffee cup, and tossed into a trash receptacle. "Got to get back to working. If it was a corrupted fellow, he'll probably return. Have to be ready," his voice trailed off as he stepped towards those metal doors and disappeared behind them.
I stood still, for a moment or two, before standing and turning back to Chris.
"Ready to go back?" he said.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Almost 5:00."
"Are you leaving, too?"
"... Actually, nobody else is expected to be coming in. Maybe I will leave. But, just to be safe, I'll stay a little ways more. Maybe Mr. Yagel will want another cup of coffee."
"It's Dr. Yagel, isn't it?"
"Ah, maybe, but I think 'Mr.' sounds less intimidating."
"Not always," I said.
--
Coming into Pyrrha was more relaxing than going out. I realized that every time I left, but even still, I hoped that this time, those engineers would figure out how to make it more comfortable.
My eyes were still hurting, and my ears were dull, and I had that same brief headache that swept over my senses. At least there was one thing better than usual: my back was not sore. Though that was only the case because I had brought a blanket. One of the maintanance workers who passed by to collect the unneeded electrical tools saw the blanket and said to himself, "We should use those more often."
I scooted up the blanket, quickly folded it, and hastened to the physical reevaluation room, and within a few quick minutes, was back outside and headed towards my car.
Just four months ago, I found out about Pyrrha. I had been interested in transformations long before then, but as I soon discovered, Pyrrha is a very secretive project. After several years of joining discussion boards, chat sites, and a mailing list, I eventually gained enough prestige amongst the community for someone from Pyrrha to send an invitation.
Initiation into Pyrrha is also very secretive. I suppose they have a good reason for their secrecy; perhaps they only want it for an exclusively transformation-minded audience. But whatever the case, they made sure I was not bugged or followed by anyone, and they began introducing me.
What can I say about Pyrrha? It is unlike anything I've ever seen. Even the outside of Pyrrha is astonishing. Imagine a giant underground room, like the caverns one hears about in old mythic stories where dwarves stored their hordes of gold and treasures, and dragons slept, in a room the size of an Olympic temple. But instead of gold or jewels, one sees an extensive barrage of silicon and wires, glistening under unending rows of dim, twinkling halogen lights. It is an awe-strucking sight.
Inside Pyrrha, things become more amazing.
There are two ways to enter Pyrrha. The more reliable and faster but more expensive and more committal way to do it is to implant a microchip directly onto the spinal cord. Only a few of the more elite officials have this option, really.
Normal people, myself included, just lie upon a table and get hooked up with electrodes to a machine and are dropped off inside Pyrrha in what has been dubbed "the lobby". Chris Renalds runs the lobby. He greets everyone, tells them what's new around Pyrrha, and gives them the prep talk. He even gives advice on what sort of transformations are worth checking out.
Me, I'm the more independent fellow. I live by myself in my ordinary home in an ordinary suburb surrounded by ordinary people. Lonely, though. I can see why those people at Pyrrha dedicate their whole lives to it, but I've never personally been one to form such heavy commitments...
I stepped into my living room and sat on the couch. My cat Alfred was sitting at the other side, napping quietly. I scooted over and rubbed him along the neck. I looked up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts wonder.
There was a new, strange fascination I had now, thinking about that man in the lobby. So mysterious, so troubled. Suspicious? Not really. He seemed like a man who was lost.
I remembered the first time I visited Pyrrha. The initialization process took forever. The engineers have to examine you completely, getting into every statistic about your body, every nuance that lies within your bones and your mind (they do make certain exceptions, however; the real-life Chris has a tattoo on his neck that he asked the engineers to remove in his virtual self), testing your metabolism and pulse rate and blood pressure and every other thing that goes on in your body: basically, the most extensive medical check-up ever.
So I was in the welcoming room. A bunch of posters and testimonials surrounded the room. These people really endeavored to make you feel comfortable. One poster was really out of place; it was a mock-up for a Mystery Science Theater 3000 film, apparently as an in-joke among the engineers. They also had a computer terminal to talk with the outside world. A sign above it signaled that you would have to communicate with it in order for the door to be unlocked. Safety precautions, I expect. These people really take this stuff seriously.
I was itching to try one of their transformations. It was so amazing, really, that this project was being entirely developed around them. They had a few basic transformations, and some interesting ones, too: a horse, a cat, a wolf, a mountain lion, a dolphin, a mouse, a walrus (who thought that one up?), a newt, an eagle, a lion. There were several others, too, but those were on another page and I didn't pay attention to them. Thinking of Alfred at home, I chose the cat. I'd always wondered what he was thinking.
Those guys at Pyrrha were certainly open-minded, though; they asked which type of transformation you would, whether you would prefer the kind where your clothes rip apart, or where your clothes dissolve into your new form, or where you clothes just disappear, and they asked whether you would prefer it to be painful, thrilling (whatever that meant), or 'relaxed'. Then they asked where you would like to transform: by a lake, in a field, in a home environment, etc.
None of this really mattered to me, as I was a first-timer and just wanted to jump right in. So I punched in options at random and happily exited towards my chosen settings.
My transformation into a cat was, to say the least, unnerving. As I checked my arm for the deep cuts and scratches I had made on myself but were now thankfully gone, I made a conclusive mental note to never pick the 'painful' choice. (Who came up with that anyway?)
But Pyrrha is meant to be all-inclusive, since it is the only project of its kind. If there is anyone who enjoys painful transformations, than they cannot be excluded. I just hope I stay away from whoever those people might be...
That first trip was just two months ago. Amazing how much has happened since that time.
That first time I sat down with Dr. Yagel, the man at the table; it was during my second visit to Pyrrha. Sitting down with him was complete impulse, of course. Neither of us had any reason to talk with each other, but he seemed like he needed some talking to. I walked over and greeted him, stating that he seemed pretty lonely, that I thought this place was amazing, wondering how long he had been here. He looked at me as if I was crazy, and I now know that he was neither interested in talking with anyone, much less a complete stranger, nor was he interested in talking about Pyrrha itself.
Why doesn't he? I mused to myself.
Alfred opened his eyes and yawned.
"You want me to get dinner out, Al?" I gave him a hard rub along the back. I sat up and went into the kitchen. I took the box of cat food and filled Alfred's bowl halfway.
It was very strange, I thought to myself, that I would own a house that was bigger than what I would ever use. There are three bedrooms: one I sleep in, one I use as an office, and the other used only for holding pieces of art. There are two bathrooms, one for myself and the other I give to Alfred. Besides the living room and the kitchen, there are two other large rooms that always remain empty.
There was no question that I could have lived in an apartment, but why I chose to live in such a large house, I could never come up with a good answer. Did I choose to live here because I grew up in a suburban home, or is it because I want someone else to live here eventually?
I walked to my bedroom and sat on the bed. I lay down and looked at the ceiling.
How lonely was I, really?
"Maggie Yagel," I said to myself, slowly.
--
I signed up for another visit in two days. Only very rarely do they ever allow people to enter Pyrrha without setting up an appointment in advance. In the meantime, I kept working at my ordinary job at my ordinary workplace, dreaming about that unordinary world, and that unordinary man.
Jackie, one of my coworkers, asked me whether anything was wrong.
"Huh?" I said, looking up from my papers.
"Well, not that I want to delve into anything personal, but you seem out of your league, recently. What's up?"
"Oh, it's nothing." I hesitated to look back down, which she immediately caught.
"Oh," her voice began drifting into a knowing tone, "right, I can tell what it is. I've seen this before, I know what it is."
I turned back up to see her trying to hide her smile. "No," I said, "it's not what you think."
"Oh, it's okay. You can tell me. We're friends. I won't tell anyone who it is."
"No, Jackie, I'm not going to talk about it," I tried to keep my voice down low.
"Listen, Meg - Maggie - there's no shame in being in love. It happens to all of us."
"No, you don't understand. He isn't... I mean, there is no..."
"Hey, it's okay, I'll back off, I can see you don't want to talk about it. Just don't rush it, that's all. Don't force love to come around, that's all I want to say. Talk to me during lunch, if you want. It helps to talk to someone about it. I'll be going now," she said as she left.
I turned back to my papers. It really was none of her business asking me, but still, she always seemed like she could read me better than I could read myself. I considered sitting down with her at lunch, but I wasn't up for it right then. But I knew she would never leave me alone if I didn't sit down with her.
So when I finished my paperwork, I left work early.
--
The next day, I hoped Jackie wouldn't come and bother me again. Thankfully, she didn't. She kept her distance from me for the whole day. That was good. It gave time to think things through on my own.
I didn't quite know, right then, what it was that I wanted with Dr. Yagel, but it scared me like heck. I was a life-long independent woman, living on my own, with my own life and only myself to worry about. I couldn't be worrying about some man that I had hardly known outside a computer simulation.
All the same, I was terribly troubled, but I kept a straight face for the day for my clients and my associates.
The workday ended, and I left calmly and quickly towards my car. I had never missed an appointment, and was not willing to miss one yet.
"You're late," the escort said after I drove to the curb beside the abandoned warehouse.
"I'm sorry," I said, my face red all over, "but there was this ambulance rushing down the street, and I pulled over just as the light was turning red, so then there was this traffic mix-up..."
"Okay, I get the picture. Just thought you may not be showing up, that's all."
"Why wouldn't I? I always make my appointments, even if I am a little late."
"You didn't get the e-mail, then?"
"Oh," I hesitated for a moment, "what e-mail?"
He inserted his key into the old office doorknob and, holding it firmly, said, "You know about Bradley?"
"Bradley who?"
"Bradley Newhouse? I guess you haven't heard of him. He's one of the corrupted folks. One of the more 'outspoken' ones." He turned the key and opened the door. "He showed up the other day, trying to get by us again. He's not really giving us any grief, he's keeping his distance, we're just trying to give him more distance, is all. Just a warning to anyone coming in that there may be unexpected reschedulings and closings." He led me through the door and closed it behind him. "You can come back later, if you want. It won't be any trouble, really. Just a slight nuisance today. But if you want to come back at a later date, so that you can fully enjoy yourself --"
"No," I said. "I'd really like to come in today. I have to discuss something with... someone... in there."
My escort and I walked around the old, run-down conveyor belts and dusty overturned chairs towards a door on the opposite wall. I stifled a sneeze and hoped that some time in the future, they could sweep up the dust collecting around here.
"You're here to chat with someone?" he said. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, don't get me wrong, but..." He inserted another key into a keyhole beside the door. The small light bulb above lit up, and the dim sound of a motor hummed from behind the door. "It seems to me, really, that Pyrrha is getting used more and more for non-transformational interests, if you know what I mean."
"What, isn't that still what people go there for?"
"Oh, yes, but... every day, it seems, the rules get more relaxed." The door opened, and we both stepped into the small elevator. He pushed a button as we stepped on and continued: "First, it was 'Let's put lockers everywhere so that people can have a place to put their clothes,' and then it's 'Wait, let's have the clothes transform with the people,' then it gets to be 'Could we get the clothes to transform into some other clothes?' and now -- get this -- now everyone's got this weird idea, 'Let's allow them to turn into furries!' Furries! Good grief, I can't stand having them over here. If this keeps up, they'll start having furry conventions here!"
"Many people who come here --"
"Yes, I know a lot of them are furries, and I'm not trying to demean them or anything, but, Jesus, it makes me wonder what we're trying to do with this project, anyway."
After a few more seconds of silence, the doors opened, and we stepped out into the hallway. I always make it a point to mention that it would be far more breathtaking to have the hallway replaced with a flimsy balcony overlooking all the circuitry of Pyrrha in all its glory, but I knew too well the head shaking and common replies of "impractical, impossible, sorry, too late for that", so I said nothing this time. We turned to our right and headed to the medical checkup room.
He left me by the door, nodded to the attending physician, and left us alone.
"Come in, Meg. Did Jim tell you about Brad?" he said as I seated myself.
"He told me something about him causing some trouble."
"Yes," he took his clipboard and his pen and began scribbling on it. "The place is something. Always something coming along, some new event, some new progress being made. Did you hear that they've almost finished up with the transgender project?"
"Mm-hm," I mumbled as he measured my pulse with quick fluidity.
"You know, I don't care too much for the transformation thing myself, but from what I hear, a lot of people are getting really excited about it. And it could mean more," he spoke the next word with solemn reverence, "funding."
"So how is the project funding?"
"Well, that's how it goes. Sometimes the days are good, and so are the wages. Not that there's anything I have to buy. They provide everything for me down. Lodging, food..."
"Isn't it hard to live your whole life here, though? Don't you ever want to leave, once in a while?"
"Oh, sure, we get vacations. Not for long, but they're good, occasional refreshers. I don't have any real relationships going on above. My whole life is down here."
"I would mind, maybe, if I spent my life underground. I'd miss the air, and the sunshine, and my cat..."
"The boss actually gave us a memo, recently, saying that we're free to bring pets into our offices, so long as they're small, secured, and don't cause any trouble. And there's the possibility... Pyrrha's a world of possibilities, isn't it... that they could --"
"--bring them in?" I finished the sentence. By this point, I was getting my eyesight checked, and the doctor was sitting off to one side.
"Of course, the biggest obstacle, as far as that goes, is getting the interface to work properly with an animal's brain. I mean, as far as --"
"No offense, doc, but I'm not sure I would like to see my Alfred turn into a female. Much less some other animal."
"I told you, I'm not interested in this sort of thing. But other people are. It's not anyone's fault for doing so, but it's best, I've found, if nothing else, to keep them happy. They're all good, in the end."
"Are you trying to get at something?" I asked. My hearing test was just finished, and the doctor was signing up a few things.
"No, Meg," he said, forgetting that I preferred Maggie to Meg, "I can get you to Pyrrha, but you have to get at it yourself." And he handed me the forms to sign.
After I signed and handed the forms, he gave a brief smile and nodded to me. He had already told me this for the several times that I'd been here, that I could now hand this sheet and so and so to the office down the hall to be uploaded to Pyrrha, take care, have a good one. I left his office and reentered another office, occupied by a slightly more pudgy man with a more auspicious expression on his face.
"Hi, there," he smiled. "Ready as always?" He glanced quickly at the forms and, tossing them aside, said, "Looks good. Let's go."
Ten minutes later, I was lying on my back on a towel on a table, electrodes along my head.
The entrance into Pyrrha is a very strange sensation. It's as if the world, for a brief instant, is stolen off your back while another world is swapped in its place. Your hearing, your smell, your sight, your sense of touch is all momentarily robbed, but quickly injected back into place with different senses around you.
I always made it a point to close my eyes before entering Pyrrha. It helps clear the headache faster. And no shortly had I done this was I lying on a table in a familiar-looking welcoming room.
Actually, the welcoming room has undergone a number of changes since the first time I was here. The computer terminal now looked less sci-fi and more like an ordinary PC. The posters were still up, but were now scrunched to a corner of the room, while a bunch of orientation and first-time assurances and warnings were placed across the room. And the desks, at least, had books on them. Most appeared to be Shakespeare, Voltaire, and other public domain works. There were also a few more recent books which were copyrighted, but who would ever tell anyone anyway?
I didn't step up towards the computer terminal this time. I stepped up to the door and turned the knob, but it was locked. Dang it, I mumbled to myself as I turned back to the terminal. Apparently, the safety precautions had not changed.
I selected a transformation at random: a jaguar transformation, and selected a random environment. The door clicked, and I opened it up. Instead of going through "the portal", as it was informally called, I gave that door a miss and instead turned down the hallway to the big metal doors.
I opened them wide, filling my view with sunlight and Chris. That seat that I instinctively turned towards, however, was empty.
Chris looked up for his registrar and chuckled."Hey, you're not done already, are you?" Chris said.
"What happened to Dr. Yagel?" I asked in a hurry.
"As far as I know, he's still at work trying to handle Bradley."
"I have to see him."
"Maggie, Bradley is a serious issue. You can talk with the doctor later."
"No, it's important."
"Why don't you go off and get your transformation over with, and I'll see whether he's available?"
"I didn't come here for transformations, I came to talk with him."
Chris assumed a more formal tone. "Miss Hendricks... this is really unlike you."
"Who's that?"
I pointed towards the windows. Chris and I both looked and saw a figure racing up the grass hill and towards us.
"Where's the door?"
Chris looked at me with surprise. "Maggie, that's dangerous. He can handle -"
"Tell me where the hell the door is!"
"There isn't a door! Other than the TF door, there is no door going outside! Just leave him alone, I'm already calling for someone!" he tapped into his computer.
I rushed around and yanked open the doors behind me, Chris protesting behind my back. I scanned the doors lining the halls. One of them had to be where Robert was working. I started towards the doors reading 'Employees Only'. The first two doors were locked, but the third opened up.
The light sparkled off the broken glass on the hard floor. A breeze was wafting through the hole in the window.
I wasted no time. I darted through the window, my arm swiping against a sharp corner. No matter, I thought; this is just a computer simulation.
I raced towards the front of the building, beside the large windows in the lobby. Out of the corner of my eye, Chris was waving and shouting. Out of the other corner of my eye, there was a distant shape approaching.
People who are 'corrupted' are no different in substance than anyone else who wanders in Pyrrha. The difference is in how the mind interacts with Pyrrha.
In the early days, I gathered, there were a few people who had to test out Pyrrha, to see whether the systems were working correctly or not, to see whether the place was bearable.
Apparently, for some people, something went wrong with them. The simulation, however it played out, altered something in their brain. It was not their memory, nor their emotions, nor their senses. It was more as if the door to the real world had shut and locked itself, with the door to Pyrrha still remaining open.
That is to say, whenever they left Pyrrha, they became unalterably disturbed in the real world. Hallucinations, delusions, paranoia. The brain wass no longer able to function correctly with the real world. The only treatment was to keep their minds in Pyrrha.
For many of these individuals, the corruption alters other things as well. Some truly get a personality shift. A few - most notably, Bradley - are able to change the world of Pyrrha by whim. Not a very strong whim, nor a very consequential whim, but a whim nonetheless.
The figure of Bradley Newhouse was bearing down upon the cringing figure of Robert Yagel.
"Stop!" I inadvertently cried out.
Bradley, standing there, looking entirely like a normal human being, started into a sprint towards Robert. Robert cowered like a normal human being.
It must have because I was standing outside the building. But when I started running towards Robert, I suddenly noticed my hands were shrinking and my nails darkening and retracting.
I stared at them for a moment, before I recovered my senses. I guess the TF will happen anyway, I thought. I rushed toward Bradley, my claws retracting suddenly.
Bradley suddenly stopped and flew past me. I landed on the ground, my new tail knocking myself off balance, inches away from Yagel's face.
Bradley was now standing where I had been, taking a few deep breaths. I kicked off my shoes as I felt my claws form underneath.
"Step away from him," he said exhaustedly. "This doesn't have anything to do with you."
I was unable to respond to him, though; my muzzle was already pushing itself out, and fur was sprouting from underneath my clothes. Robert just lay languidly beside me.
The man started circling me. "I got something to do with him. He don't mean anything to you. Back away from him."
I growled aggressively.
Bradley suddenly stopped and almost took a step back, staring wide-eyed at me. Following his gaze, I looked down. My pants had apparently split themselves.
I turned my gaze back up and took a step towards him.
"Goddamn you." He started into a run towards me. As the two of us approached, I suddenly saw something was happening with his fist. It seemed like the air around it was beginning to twist and spin, and there was a dull hum...
The fist swung itself up towards me...
And I swiftly leaped out of harm's way, swiping his back with my paw.
Bradley stumbled and gagged. He composed himself, and quickly turned back towards Robert. I spun around and raced back towards Robert. I was a full jaguar now, a snarling and hissing thing tearing through the earth.
And Bradley thrust his hand forward towards Robert, and the air spun around it...
And it hit bare earth.
Robert had apparently disappeared.
"Get out of here, Bradley!" a voice boomed.
The voice seemed to come from behind the building, and sounded familiar. It was like the sound of that engineer who had plugged me into Pyrrha, but without a hint of cheerfulness.
Bradley, his face sickened with frustration, turned towards me.
But I was no longer with him.
The headache had returned. I was gasping for breath. And I was back in the underground room, back in the real world, no longer a jaguar, now lying upon a table with electrodes on my head.
The world was spinning around me. Whether it was the exhilaration, the exertion, or the sudden rush back into reality, I suddenly passed out.
--
That same physician I had been with earlier was looking down at me.
"Feeling better?"
I groggily nodded. I swallowed, and was surprised to taste hot chocolate.
"Sorry we don't have anything else," he said when he saw my expression. "We just needed to get some fluids into you, and one of the engineers always brings along a mug of cocoa."
"What happened?"
"You nearly saved Mr. Yagel. He would have been corrupted for sure if you hadn't rushed in. Everyone's still tearing their hair about it, but you did the right thing, I think, in attacking Bradley. About time someone did, anyway."
"What about Robert?"
"Oh, he's fine. Don't worry about him. Just relax. You're still a little weak."
"What happened to him?"
"Don't worry. He's being treated right now. Calm down."
I decided to stop talking for the moment. I could sort everything out later.
--
I tipped the box over and poured the food into Alfred's bowl. I had had such an exhausting day. The Pyrrha guys apologized for what happened and set up another appointment for me next Tuesday. I was just disappointed. I had wanted to talk with Yagel so badly.
I went into my lonely bedroom and lay down my lonely bed, thinking about my lonely life. I hoped that Yagel was okay, as I drifted off to sleep.
I was suddenly awakened by the ringing of a phone. 11:30? Who would be calling this late?
I yawned as I picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Miss Hendricks?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if you came back a little earlier than planned?"
"Who is this?"
"This is Mr. Reeds. Secretary for the Pyrrha Project."
Fifteen minutes later, I was hurrying towards the empty office building, the only light being a streetlight from across the street.
"Pyrrha's not this secretive, is it?" I said to my greeter. "Surely you can put some lighting up."
"Our situation's not important to you," she said. "I hope whatever Mr. Yagel wants with you, he can make it quick. I'm tired, and so is everyone else around here."
"What did he want to talk to me about?" My heart was already skipping.
"He has a decision to make. A very important one. Do you know how much Mr. Yagel was hurt last afternoon?"
"Not really. Just that he's fine."
"An optimistic way of putting it. We knew this day would be coming eventually... or night, whatever. As soon as we assigned him to this job..." She pushed the elevator button. "You don't know a lot about Pyrrha. There's a lot of history that you should know about it, but we haven't time for that." She paused. "Do you know what sort of work Mr. Yagel was doing before he came to Pyrrha?"
"I think... I remember he said he was a research professor."
"In what field?"
"I never asked."
She stared at the elevator doors in front of us. "He was a neuroscientist." She paused again. "He was doing some important investigations for how the brain worked. Without him, we'd never have perfected the -- implementation. A very valuable person. But he didn't want to work for us. He didn't want to, but we needed him. More than anything."
The elevator doors opened. The two of us stepped out, staring at the hallway, as if Pyrrha lay behind it.
"We had to take him with us. There was no other option. And we figured, eventually, we could let him go. But now..."
She turned suddenly to the right, speaking "time, time, what's the time?" under her breath.
I hurried up to her, and she stopped outside the doorway to the physician's room. She knocked on the door and quickly turned around. "Back to sleep," she mumbled.
The doctor opened the door and bade me in. "I'll go through the check-up as fast as I can."
"You're the one to do that."
"When you do something long enough, it becomes second nature. Of course, doing anything too quickly could be... dangerous," he said, though not directly at me.
"You told me Robert was okay, yesterday."
"Oh, he is. Health-wise. Just needs a word with you."
"Did he say what? Why does he need me to talk to me?"
"There's a critical decision he has to make. A personal sacrifice."
The world seemed to spin again. "What sort of sacrifice?"
"Well... his life might have to go in another direction."
"Just tell me what it is, already!" I was getting impatient by all these subtle hints.
"You see, Bradley didn't manage to corrupt Dr. Yagel too badly. Nothing that was irreparable. But how long can it last? How long can he keep getting attacked? Pyrrha is not a solid piece of machinery. It's a fluid, changing universe, and to keep getting interrupted by these attacks, it's not safe. It's just not safe for anyone. ... Did she tell you about how we captured Yagel?"
"No."
"We went to a lot of trouble... or they did, I hadn't signed up here when they were working ... They went to a lot of trouble trying to make everything legitimate. He disappeared a few minutes before taking a plane flight. To this day, nobody knows his whereabouts. Police ended their investigation months ago, when they lost their leads. It's immoral, almost evil, what they did to that man, but that may have to change. Things aren't looking good for us, and..." He looked up from his clipboard. "We're done."
"Well, that really was quick."
"Things like a routine check-up aren't important, Meg. The things which are most important always take the most time."
--
And I was back in Pyrrha.
The sky was bizarrely sunny and bright. Apparently, no one comes here at night, so there's no need to set up a night sky.
The door from the welcoming room was unlocked. They must have known I was coming and unlocked it for me.
I walked down the hallway. A note was stuck onto the second door from the double doors. 'Come in, Maggie.' I opened the door and stepped inside.
The layout was exactly the same as in Robert's office, except that the curtains were drawn, the floor was carpeted, and there was a large bed sitting against the side of the wall.
Robert looked up from his bed towards me. He smiled weakly. "Long time no see."
I pulled the swivel chair up from the desk, and sat down in front of him. Now that I was sitting in front of him, I'd forgotten what it was that I'd wanted to ask him. "How are you?" was all I could say.
"Feeling better. That was... really a performance from you. Earlier."
"I didn't plan on it, either."
"They told you about this? About Bradley, and me, and everything?"
"Why don't you tell me yourself?"
He sighed. "That would take too long to tell you. You must be tired right now. It's the middle of the night out there, isn't it?"
"I'm not too tired."
"No... I should have called you up when it was morning. We'd have more time to talk."
"I don't mind. I'm wide awake now."
Again, he sighed and looked at the curtains. "I never thought I'd miss the night, you know. It was always so dark, it depressed me. The stars were pretty, yes, but, you know, in the city you can never see the stars anyway. But... I get tired of sunshine."
"Is this going somewhere?" I asked, a bit impatient.
"Well, I'm trying to think where to begin," he said. He took another look around the room and at me before finally settling on looking at the ceiling. "It all started at my flat, when I was digging through papers, looking for a student paper I had misplaced, when I got a phone call..."