The world fades from around you. You open your eyes in a swirling maelstrom of light and colour. The psychadelic surroundings batter your senses, confuse your burning mind.
[Where am I?] The thought spills into nowhere with no one to hear you. [Kevin? Megabyte? Adam?] You struggle to focus on the names, struggle to remember what they mean. There's something soporific about this place that leaves you desperate and confused.
There are currents here. You can feel them pulling at you, pulling you apart.
You reach out looking for other minds. Somewhere, somewhere out there, there are other minds. You can feel the weight of them, distorting this place, this hyperspace. With the last of your strength you move towards that distortion.
****
You tumble out of the swirling vortex into some kind of energy beam. It tugs at you, tears you from the space that is no space. You have no idea where you're going but you let yourself go nonetheless. You know that death is your only alternative.
Your first sight of the room in which you emerge is, well, less than impressive. Your second is overwhelming.
The beam that intercepted you felt odd. A strange tingling sensation flows along all your nerves and it takes you several seconds to recover before you can focus on your surroundings. In front of you is a white plastic wall across which strangely coloured lights play in constant motion. It's strangely disappointing and your first thought is that you've just teleported to a different part of the complex. Then you turn you through 180 degrees.
The vista of stars in front of you is both spectacular and vertiginous. Set against a midnight sky they seem far brighter and more numerous than any starscape seen from Earth. The impossible depths of the sky seem to pull you forward, drawing you into them. You don't realise you're leaning forward until someone catches hold of your shoulder to steady you.
[I don't think going that way without an AE suit would be very healthy,] he notes. [Even if you could get through a wall tougher than steel.]
You turn, frightened and confused. Nothing here seems right. You stagger backwards, alarmed as you see who steadied you. At first sight the man seems human. Then you realise that his skin is a shade greener than that of a human giving him a complexion not unlike a person from the countries around the Mediterranean at first glance. In combination with his short stubby fingers and wide, almost circular, eyes though it is enough to mark him out clearly and distinctly as alien.
[Remember that everyone on the Trig is alien, you included.] The, well the alien, tells you in a tolerant tone. The thought is a long way from being that clear but it is the closest you can come to translating the thought. This is communication by pure sensation itself. [Who are you? How did you intercept our jaunting beam?]
[Where am I? Who are you? I ... I don't understand!] Finally you find your voice, and it sounds weak and terrified. Your thoughts slam into the other person and he staggers backwards. [Where are Adam and Kevin? Where are the others?]
The alien winces but he looks at you intently, clearly trying to make you understand.
[Stay calm. Just tell me. What planet are you from? What are you?]
[I...I'm human! From Earth! What are you? Where am I?]
[Stay calm.] The other repeats but you can feel him reaching out to others as he speaks. [You are on the Galactic Trig. Do you know what that is?]
You shake your head frantically but you can feel that the gesture means less to the alien than the sense of denial in your mind.
[What's going on? What is this place?]
Again the alien winces.
[Try to think more quietly!] He pleads. [You're safe. Calm down. I've called someone who can talk to you.]
["You really are safe, you know."] The voice reaches your ears and mind simultaneously and the words are in English. Your head swings round as if on a wire to fix on the gaze of the young man standing in the doorway. For a moment you see yourself through his eyes, a smoke blackened teenage boy with a pale face standing out against your ragged clothes. The other man is perhaps five years older than you. His dark blonde hair swings long just above his shoulders and his clothing is neat, if a little out of place in these surroundings. His gaze is direct and pentetrating, reminding you very much of the way Adam and the others looked at you occasionally. While they were anxious though, this man seems more puzzled than anything else. "I'm Stephen."
"Jay." You introduce yourself automatically. "What...? Where am I...?"
"You're on the Trig. Think of it as a kind of space station for now. That's not important. Where are you from, Jay? London by the sound of you."
"NW1." You tell him, confused.
"And you're a Tomorrow Person." Stephen says thoughtfully. He comes forward and squats in front of you, looking into your face. "So I suppose the questions we have to ask are 'how did you get here?' and 'why have I never heard of you?'"
"I don't understand." You whisper, frightened.
"I know." Stephen says comfortingly. "Can you walk, Jay? Let's go somewhere more comfortable and you can tell us all about it."
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