Grandpa Jack scowled. “Ain’t nothing wrong with being a human.”
“It’s adorable that you believe that.”
“Look kid, I didn’t fight Nazis in five countries just so I could switch planets and become a racist.”
The lizard crossed its arms and started tapping its foot. “You keep referring to me as ‘kid.’ You should know that most advanced species are longer-lived than humans. It is one of the benefits of evolving and the reason I look so youthful despite being 91 years old. Where I come from, we respect our elders.”
Grandpa Jack leaned in. “Well, kid, I’m 95. I still got four years on you. How do you like them apples?”
The lizard got a sour look and glanced around the room for a distraction. When Beth raised her hand, he sighed in relief and gestured for her to speak.
“Are you saying that we’re going to be the only humans in Armenia?” Beth said.
“Arenia, mom,” Angela said.
Beth rolled her eyes. “Fine. Ah-ren-ee-ah. Happy?”
The lizard cleared his throat. “No. There are many humans on Arenia. In fact, they’re the most common species on the planet. However, an Arenian human has but one life to live. Which is what makes Earthborn humans so unique. Only you, amongst all the humans in the universe, are capable of reincarnation.
“Wait, what?” Mark said. “Reincarnation is actually a thing?”
“This isn’t common knowledge?” the lizard said.
“Hardly,” Mark said.
“Oo! Does that mean all of us have past lives?” Angela said.
The lizard made a teeter-totter motion with its hands. “Maybe? A human from Earth is only born with a certain number of reincarnations, and that number varies between individuals. Truth be told, even on Earth, most humans only get one life. That is why when we select a human to bring to Arenia, we make sure it’s an individual with many rebirths left. The whole goal of the transplantation process is to introduce greatness into the universe. To create legends. For that, you need legendary individuals of a kind that can only be formed when the rebirths of an Earthborn human are combined with the Tome of Knowledge of an Arenian. This is because the Tome serves to anchor an Earthborn human’s spirit at the time of death, allowing them to be reborn near-instantly without losing any of the growth they’ve accumulated over the previous life.”
“This is so fuhhh…” Angela spotted her mom glaring at her “…uh, frigging awesome! What does the Tome look like? Can mine be an iPad or something? A tablet would be super helpful.”
“A tablet…? No, of course not!” the lizard said. “A Tome is a book. That is literally what the word means.”
“Oh. Well, it’s still cool.”
Mark and Angela quickly bent their heads together and started buzzing about what the future held. Angela with unrestrained glee, Mark a bit more hesitant. As for Beth, she took the news pensively, while her grandfather simply looked grouchy. It was Peter though, who raised a point everyone else had missed.
“Alright, Mr. Lizard,” he said, crossing his arms. “May I call you Mr. Lizard?”
“No.”
“Okay. So, Mr. Lizard, I was wondering. This Iggy fellow you selected. I presume he has many lives?”
The lizard’s eyes darted around and he began fiddling with a button on his suit. “Yes.”
“But we were not your intended targets today.”
“Er, no, you weren’t.”
“So, one could assume that we do not, in fact, have an abundance of lives?”
“Umm… that’s not exactly true. It’s not easy to determine an individual’s total number of lives, so it’s not something I even know. Maybe you have a lot of lives? Maybe you have none. It’s hard to say. I can say that it tends to run in families. If one of you dies and is reborn, it’s safe to assume that you all have at least one more life.” Seeing Peter’s ire building, the lizard raced ahead in his explaining.
“But that’s enough of that!” he said, putting some room between himself and Peter. “I think we’ve spent enough time discussing things. Let’s just clear out the legal formalities and move onto the transition, shall we? You’ll be happy to know that we will be giving you a house to live in once you arrive. A little compensation for our mix-up. Isn’t that nice? There will be plenty of room for all six of you, so—”
“Six?” Mark said. “There’s only five of us in this family.”
The lizard pulled his head back. Looking around the room, he counted them off. “I don’t understand. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six of you in the family.”
“You counted Grandpa Jack twice.”
The lizard shook his head. “No, I didn’t. See?” Once again, he counted them off, only painfully slowly this time.
Mark glanced at his sister. An unspoken question passed between them, and she responded with a hesitant shrug of confusion. Mark looked back at the lizard and said, “I feel ridiculous even saying this, but… did you just count the turkey?”
Now it was the lizard’s turn to look confused. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I count your turkey?”
Grandpa Jack’s face went red. “It’s a turkey! It’s dinner, not a family member!”
“How should I know you intended to eat the turkey!” the lizard snapped back.
“BECAUSE IT’S WHAT PEOPLE DO! WE EAT TURKEYS!”
“I don’t,” Angela said, holding up her hand.
Grandpa Jack glared at her. “Don’t you start.”
The lizard threw his hands up in the air. “It doesn’t matter! The turkey has officially been included in your family’s paperwork, and I have no intention of filing additional documentation. One way or another, she is going to Arenia with you. After that, I truly don’t care what happens. You people will be the death of me.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Peter grumbled.
The turkey, seeming to sense that attention had turned to it, puffed out its feathers and glared directly at Mark, somehow selecting him as the cause of her predicament despite Grandpa Jack’s role in her incarceration.
“So, is that like, a dire turkey now?” Angela said.
The lizard shrugged. “Was it a dire turkey before my arrival?”
“It was certainly in dire circumstances,” her brother noted.
“But the turkey itself was not dire?”
“No,” Angela said.
“Then I would hazard to guess that the situation remains unchanged.”
Grandpa Jack shuffled and grumbled. “Buncha loonies,” he huffed through his moustache. He turned the turkey’s head around and glared at it. “At least we’ll have something to eat.”
The lizard grimaced. “Ah, I would recommend against that.”
“Why?” Beth said.
“How do I explain,” the lizard said. “Customarily, when we bring multiple people over at once—which is quite rare—they are intended to work together upon their arrival. As such, we create a special connection between them called a familial bond. A bit of a ‘leg up,’ as you humans say. However, one aspect of this bond is that deliberate harm perpetrated by one bond member upon another is shared by both.”
The room went silent. And when one is floating in an endless black void, a room can get really silent.
“Hang on,” Grandpa Jack said. “You’re saying that if I kill this turkey, I’m going to die?”
The lizard nodded. “Correct.”
“But it’s a turkey,” Angela said.
“Nonetheless…”
Grandpa Jack raised a finger. “What if I—”
The lizard sighed loudly. “If you take any course of action with the intent being to harm a family member—ANY family member—without their consent, then the rules still apply.”
Grandpa Jack sputtered and held the turkey out by the legs and neck, gesturing wildly as he ranted. “But I’m not related to this damn turkey!”
“Grandpa, you’re hurting it!” Angela shouted.
A gleam entered his eyes. “I am, aren’t
I? But I’m not feeling anything, so if I were to wring this damn bird’s neck right now—”
“And off to Arenia you go!” the lizard shouted.
Whipping out a comically large box from his pocket, one that consisted solely of a large red button, the lizard slapped his palm down hard and grinned widely as the family vanished from the room.
The lizard was still revelling in his coup when the door in the blackness opened again. A furred creature with five eyes protruding on thick stalks leaned its head in and nodded toward the lizard. “Okay, Carl, we’ve got their landing coordinates synched up. You can send them down whenever you’re—hey, where’d they go?”
Carl stared at his co-worker for a moment before slapping a webbed palm against his face.
“Crap.”
Chapter 2
Transition
Beth once again found herself floating in a black void, only this time there was no house, and the void wasn’t featureless. Instead, she was amidst a field of stars… So many stars. It almost hurt the eyes. But the stars were not the most startling thing she could see. That distinction belonged to the massive planet that dominated her vision. It was as though someone had taken the Earth and ballooned it up by three or four sizes.
A voice emanated from somewhere in the ether.
Before you lies… Arenia.
It was a gravelly, comforting man’s voice that spoke of smoke and earth and the wisdom of time. It sounded like Sam Elliott.
We come together to welcome you, Beth Sullivan, granddaughter of ERROR, wife of Peter Sullivan, and mother of ERROR ERROR, ERROR ERROR, and—
“Oh dear,” Beth said.
We see that you will be joining us from ERROR ERROR, and—”
A second voice broke in, this one female, and in no way soothing. Damn it, Carl, you had one job! Now look at this mess!
There was a period of cussing, then silence.
“Um, hello?” Beth said tentatively.
Just hang on a sec, will you?
“Okay,” Beth said. With nothing else to do, she surveyed the world below her. It was pretty, at least.
Ugh. Alright, sorry about that—I think we’ve worked out what happened. That idiot, Carl, sent you down before we specified your landing location. You were supposed to arrive together and now you’re scattered all over the place. We’ve got some people working on it, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.
The voice let out a big sigh.
It’s just… I didn’t need this right now, you know? This is already a pretty stressful job without people making it even harder.
“Oh, you poor dear,” Beth said. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to move people from one planet to another. That does seem rather complicated.”
I know, right? Well, it looks like I’m going to be taking more of a direct hand with you folks than I normally would. You seem nice enough. Mostly. Usually, the people we send over are a bit, well… let’s just say it’s tough to find people who don’t have any friends or family who will miss them without hitting on a pretty specific phenotype.
“I would imagine,” Beth said. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but so long as the voice was polite, she saw no reason to be anything else in return.
Okay then, you ready to get the legal disclaimer out of the way?
“Legal disclaimer?”
Yeah, it’s just a bunch of boilerplate mumbo jumbo. The universe is a big place—did you really think Earthlings invented bureaucracy?
Beth snorted. “No, I guess not.”
I like you, Beth. You’re alright, the voice continued brightly. Tell you what, I’m going to help you folks out a little bit. I’ve got a bit of wiggle room, and Carl muffed this punt so badly that nobody’s going to question me exerting a little authority. That okay with you?
“No, by all means. You’re the expert here. I trust your judgment.”
Okay, we’ll see what I can come up with. It won’t happen right away—I barely know anything about you, so I don’t know what would benefit you the most. Heck, we don’t even know your class yet.
“Class?” Beth said. There was a slapping noise, and Beth had the distinct impression that if the voice accompanied a body, their palm would have just smacked their forehead.
Oh yeah, you’re not a gamer! I forgot. You see, your class is what you are. Kind of like a job back on Earth, but on Arenia, it’s more like your identity. So, while you might hold any number of jobs while you’re here, what you ARE is a fighter, a cleric, a magician, and so on.
“There’s magic on Arenia?”
For sure! Most places in the universe have magic. Earth is an oddball in that regard. I wouldn’t get too dead set on a given class, though. Arenians don’t get to pick their class; it arises as a consequence of not just their actions but also their subconscious desires.
“Why is that?” Beth said.
Come on, Beth. You’re a smart cookie. How many people do you know who aren’t lying to themselves at least a little bit about who they are? Our whole goal is to maximize potential, and we’ve discovered that to do that, a person needs to have a class that reflects who they truly are. Now, that isn’t to say that you get ZERO choice. But your options are limited to things that reflect your true inner self. Isn’t that nice?
For the first time, Beth felt true apprehension about Arenia. “I’m not so sure. I was a social worker for six years. A person’s true inner self can be a pretty awful place.”
There was an awkward pause. Yeaaaahhhhh… that’s a bit of a political third rail up here, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut. Suffice to say that your instincts serve you well on THAT particular matter.
Anyhoo, here’s the legal paperwork; just hit “Accept” whenever you’re ready. I recommend you read it first. Actually, I don’t, but I have to say that anyway, so here we are.
A screen appeared in front of Beth, looking not unlike a tablet computer. She reached for it and discovered that it did indeed have a physical presence. It was filled with legal documentation, but after an extended period of swiping, she realized the scroll bar had barely moved. With a sigh of resignation, she scrolled to the bottom and hit the big green button that resided there. It wasn’t as if she had any choice in the matter.
Excellent; we can send you down now. I think I’ve at least got you targeted near your starting city, which is… Palmyre? Yeesh. Yeah, I’m giving you a bigger house. I’m putting it in your name, too. There’s patriarchy all over the galaxy, so if I get to choose whose name the house goes in, I’m putting it in yours. Screw ‘em, right?
“I very much appreciate that, thank you.”
No problem. Also, since we’re dumping you in the middle of nowhere and telling you to get to Palmyre, it would be a bit of a dick move not to give you this:
Quest Opportunity: “Get to Palmyre”
Basically, exactly what it says.
Reward for success: XP, Getting to see your family again.
Penalty for failure: None.
ACCEPT? YES/NO
The words burst into Beth’s brain. “How do I…?”
Just think it, and the system will take care of the rest.
Beth consciously chose to accept the request and was greeted with another message:
Quest “Get to Palmyre” Accepted
“That was easy enough,” Beth said. “Is there anything more I should know?”
No, that’s pretty much it. Normally I’d have handouts and stuff, but Carl…”
“I get it.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“No problem. Oh, and before I go, is there a name you go by?”
Oh sure. I’m Verna. Enjoy your new life on Arenia!
Beth’s stomach dropped as the gravity of Arenia seized her in its grip and yanked her towards the planet. She picked up speed, going faster and faster, sheer terror gripping her as she began to wonder whether they were about to slam her into the planet at Mach 10. That continued for about a full minute, at which point it dawned o
n her just how many times she could have been killed by these beings already. Why would they choose NOW to slam her into a planet? Gritting her teeth, Beth did her best to endure the drop and ignore the planet that was roaring up at her with ever-increasing speed.
Angela floated in a featureless void above a bright blue planet with only stars and vacuum for company.
“This is so cool!” she said. If she could have jumped up and down in anticipation, she would have.
There was a brief muffled clicking noise, and then a voice spoke.
Hi Angela. Is that correct? Angela, Angie?
“Angela is fine.”
Great. Okay, Angela. Here’s the deal. Carl screwed up. Usually, when we send a group to Arenia, we do a big package thing. Muffins, coffee, PowerPoint—the works. You get a big info dump, and then we hit the ground running once you get your bearings. But an idiot who shall remain nameless—”
“Didn’t you just say his name was Carl?”
Did I? I certainly can’t understand why I would have mentioned Carl. That would be irresponsible. I mean, imagine if an oversight board were listening in on this call, only to discover that Carl was the reason this whole transfer went teats up. Why, that would be really bad for Carl. No, I can’t believe I’d ever have mentioned Carl in the context of this conversation.
“Oookay…” This was not proceeding as Angela had expected.
As I was saying: Instead of dropping all of you into the group protocol, the person whose name could be anything up to and including Carl instead put you all into the solo protocol. Ergo, everything is a bit of a clown show right now. You’re going in with just the base Attributes you’re bringing over from Earth, unfortunately. Usually, you’d get a bit of a boost, but the points are person-specific, and the ones we put aside were allocated to some dingbat named—there was the sound of pages flipping—Iggy Stevens? Yeesh. You Earthborn have strange names. Oh well. You’ll get some compensation to make up for it eventually, but in the meantime, try and stay alive, okay?
Arrival: Legends of Arenia Book 1 (A LitRPG Story) Page 2
