23: Arrival

Kyle Carter leaned toward the bowl placed in front of him, now dressed in the white clothes everyone else was wearing. The man in the white suit – or, more accurately, the first one he’d met – prattled on about how they’d rescued him from some attack from some aliens. Kyle tried to eat, but it made him sick. So they hooked him up to some sustenance tubes.

He also asked about a cell door down the hall from his, which he noticed on his way back from the first interview, but got no response.

“Are you ready to begin our next session?” The man asked.

“Why do we have to do small sessions?” Kyle countered. “Why can’t I just get this interview thing over with?”

“You need rest, Kyle. It’s not healthy to run around for several hours for someone in your… state,” the man answered calmly but impatiently, like a man scolding a child.

“Fine, so I guess you want me to continue?”

“Yes, in fact, I would.”

“Are you going to shock me again?”

“Only if absolutely necessary,” the man smiled.

“How ‘bout not at all?” Kyle said.

“Aw, not even just a little bit?” the man kept smiling, like it was a joke.

“Nevermind.”

Kyle slipped into a back room quietly. The enemy was still searching for him in the hangar, as far as he knew, and he was without ammo. This room was where he could restock. He hovered in front of the wall where a treasure trove of guns and other things, looking for the right thing. He chose a shotgun, which he set to Shock, and moved back over to the door. He held his breath and took a peek. A silhouette at the closer end of a long hall was standing stock-still, gun ready. For a heart-pounding moment, both were motionless. The shadow moved with startling speed towards Kyle, who yelped and squeezed off a spray of sparks at it. A grunt. Kyle hopped over the attacker and escaped the hall.

Where was Bradley? The doctor knew his way through these halls better than anyone, even if he was slower. But this was a war of wit more than of guns, really.

Kyle turned out of another, smaller passageway and found himself in the corner of a monumentally large room, which he assumed was an unexplored area of the hangar. The hangar was, by almost infinite proportions, the largest room in the ship. Light was dim and yellow instead of the bright cold blue that filled the rest of the room, and cast strange shadows across the floor. This section was filled with strange, Goldstein-esque machines. Kyle wondered what they did for a moment.

It was that moment that he was ambushed. A larger shadow, which he had assumed was from a machine, moved swiftly. Kyle bolted down a row of machines, then turned and slid under a table. The footsteps stopped.

“I know you’re there, Kyle,” the man said.

“Bradley?” Kyle gasped. “I can’t believe  - - you traitor!”

“He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Bradley’s voice said simply, from an unknown direction. “Now stand up and come quietly, or I’ll have to use force. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

Kyle was motionless for a moment, then sighed and stood up. The two walked, Bradley behind him, gun raised to the back of Kyle’s head.

Bradley didn’t even realize what had happened until it was done. Acting quickly, Kyle spun and knocked the gun upwards out of his hands, then sweep-kicked the feet right out from under him. It was a perfectly executed single motion. Bradley hit the ground, dazed. Kyle caught the gun from the air and stuffed it into his jeans, keeping his own shotgun aimed at his former teammate.

“Kyle, you prick!” Kenny said, rubbing a sore spot on his face on his way in.

“What?” Kyle said, turning around.

“You shot me in the face!” Kenny said, pointing at a small burn mark across his cheek. “You said no faces!”

“My bad,” Kyle shrugged. Bradley stood up, but Kyle held up his weapon again. Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“Not so fast, traitor.”

“Are you three done messing around yet?” Piott appeared from the hallway. “Honestly, I thought I’d only be dealing with two children.”

“Are we there yet?” Kenny asked, dropping his gun. The others did so too.

“Yeah, come on,” Piott headed back towards the bridge.

Lightsyphon loomed large in the front window of the ship, a large rust-colored orange sand planet. They were directly above an accumulation of buildings and other constructions for the convention.

On the dashboard, a light started blinking. Piott pressed the button below it, and a trid flickered into view in front of them.

“Welcome to the 2336 Treaty Convention, hosted by Lightsyphon and the Foreign Diplomacy Association,” said a man dressed in thick beige robes. Kyle recognized him as the man from Episode 11.

The Omniscient Narrator didn’t mean to type that. He backspaces before Kyle can make sense of the thought.

Kyle recognized him as the man from… the secret meeting Piott had held a few months ago.

“Whoa, déjà vu,” Kyle said.

“What?” Kenny asked.

“Nothing.”

The three-dimensional image on the trid continued to talk about what they were supposed to do when they entered the convention.

Within minutes, they were touching down on a landing pad outside of a giant building. Piott entered the front door, followed by Kyle, Kenny, and Bradley.

When Piott got to the front desk, he signed some stuff and received a badge from the lady at the computer. The other three got badges too, and the group went through another pair of doors into the conference.

Kenny halted, making Kyle bump into him.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” said Kenny. “But I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“What?” Kyle said. “When?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t like it.”

Kenny started breathing hard. “No. Not good, not good.”

“Kenny, what are- are you okay?” Kyle grabbed Kenny by the shoulder to keep him from falling.

“I shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t… I gotta go!”

Kenny slipped out of Kyle’s grasp and sprinted into the crowd.

“Kenny!” Kyle shouted, chasing after him. But the bustling convention-goers had swallowed him whole.

“Time to sleep now, Kyle.”