This is a prologue to an upcoming Faux Foto Essay detailing my adventures and discoveries at the Virgo Supercluster Local Void Record Convention and Music Festival, known as “The Void Show” to the cool kids.
Before I get to the meat and potatoes of my adventure, I need to address the alien in the room. You know the little gray ones that show up at the foot of your bed at night, ferry you to their ship, and run experiments on you? Yeah, those are the same ones who have been pestering me lately. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my abduction experiences so far, these beings are as socially awkward as they are mysterious.
This is one of the jerks who keeps waking me up at night.
For example: during my third abduction, one of my alien captors wheeled my gurney to an alcove, bowed over me, and whispered “Dude, don’t tell anybody here, and don’t act weird, but I think you’re cool.” It’s plenty creepy when anyone says something like that to you. When it’s your extraterrestrial abductor saying it, it’s a little bit extra.
My memory of the rest of the conversation is hazy, but I can tell you the parts I do remember. For instance, I do remember immediately asking Where am I? and Who are you?
As evidenced here, they look even less friendly when donning their bio-protective surgical suits.
The alien shook its head and sighed with mild resignation. “Ah, you must not remember. The stun lights are always messing with you guys’ heads. That’s the one drawback of our most successful collection tactic.” The alien gave a shifty glance around the corner and hunched low over me, as though he’d said too much already. He continued in a near whisper, “We hit ya with the stun light to make you placid and smiley, keeps you from being all flailing and screaming-like, and it makes you wanna comply with whatever we ask. Then I walk in and ask if you’d like to hop on board. You say ‘yes,’ of course, then we run the procedure and you’re done! That’s where you are now, and you’ll be home any minute.”
As I regained the strength to lift a finger, I meekly asked “What procedure?”
The alien answered defensively, “Nothing too messed up, really. Don’t worry, they only want us to do the ‘probe’ tests on the top one percent of your species.”
“The bosses want to get us down here periodically to check out your microbiome. If we’re going to live here long term, we need help adjusting to your food. Our biochemists have seen the junk you put in your stomach and believe you to be a veritable goat among men. So we’re kind of using you to help us figure out a way to eat damn near anything without going out ‘War of the Worlds’ style on the toilet.”
Looking around the corner once more, the alien mustered its courage and wheeled me out through the exam room, past its superiors. As it guided me me down a corridor, it suddenly remembered my second question. “Oh, and my name’s Agnub.”
As Agnub spoke, a bright light emanated from all directions, saturating the corridor in a blinding white glow. I began to feel oddly agreeable. He helped me off the gurney and guided me to the ramp. I descended back through my bedroom window, and he handed me a strange thin strip of metal with what appeared to be writing etched into its surface. “Take this. It’s a ticket to the coolest record convention you’ll ever see.”
I accepted the ticket with a woozy smile and stumbled back into bed.
When I finally roused the next morning, I had a faint recollection of what transpired, though I didn’t immediately remember what Agnub said the ticket was for. Too much trauma, not enough coffee.
The “ticket” Agnub gave me. He said I may need to show proof of a legitimate interstellar travel need. “Any authority getting a good look at that should honor it.”
I was close to a mental breakdown following the first two abductions by Agnub and his cronies. After facing the possibility that I had gone insane, my fracturing mind tried to rationalize the events the best it could, and I nearly convinced myself the “memory” of such abductions were but vivid dreams brought on by nicotine patches and Ambien.
But now, having received a physical artifact, the terrifying reality of my predicament came into focus: I really was being abducted by aliens, and they’ve invited me to some sort of… record show? That’s got to be a new one for Noory.
The next few days passed uneventfully. I woke up, went to work, did my job, ate lunch, slacked, worked some more, and went home. The whole time, I kept Agnub’s ticket in my pocket, wondering if and when I’d receive further instructions.
It was late afternoon on the third day when Agnub finally made contact. I was in the pharmacy for an Ambien refill when I heard the sound of static in my head, accompanied by a theremin-like warbling of frequencies competing and adjusting. Next, there was a cough, followed by brief feedback. Finally, Agnub’s voice echoed in my head. “Hey, hey man. Can you hear me okay? I’m trying to tune in through your dental work.”
I shut my mouth quickly, looked around, and quietly hummed “Mmm-hmm.”
“Cool. Sorry I can’t see you in person, but we’re really not supposed to talk to our subjects. You seem cool, though. That’s why I gave you a ticket to the convention. A public cruiser will be stopping near Earth next Tuesday at 6:00 PM. As long as you’re in line and you have the event ticket with you, they’ll let you board.”
Confused, irritated, and feeling a bit self-conscious at not knowing whether others could hear Agnub’s voice through my mouth, I asked in a muted monotone “What line?”
“The line at the place where you’re always picking up dinner. You’ll see a guy there. Don’t worry, you’ll recognize him. He’ll scan your bio pattern, verify you, probably ask to get a look at your convention ticket, and clear you to board the cruiser. Oh, and If anyone tries to ask you what your business is, just show them your ticket. Any authority getting a good look at that should honor it.”
Everything about this plan struck me as sketchy. Of all the test subjects, why pick me to attend a record convention? What in Agnub’s mind made me “cool?” After mulling things over, I finally decided to do as the alien instructed – mostly because I wanted answers to these questions.
I arrived at my favorite local chow hall at 5:55 PM Tuesday, per Agnub’s instructions. El Sombrero Al Revés is a one-off fast Mexican spot known for cheap, pre-made enchilada bowls, refried beans, and tacos. As I approached the counter, an oddly familiar face caught my attention.
This guy might know a thing or two about aliens.
His eyes locked onto me, and with a mischievous smile he asked “Hey, you Agnub’s buddy? The goat man?”
Awkwardly and quietly, I replied “Yeah, I guess so, but my name’s-“
He cut me off, quipping “Heh, I guess we both got here before the line did, am I right? Anyway, lemme get a look at you.” He took out what appeared to be his smartphone and began waving it all around my body like he was a TSA security officer. As he completed his scan, the phone beeped and played a soft fanfare. “Yep, you check out.”
“My name’s Mike, by the way,” I offered as he tapped a few buttons on his phone before pocketing it. “Also, why are you wearing a restaurant uniform? You don’t work here.”
“Is that right?” He replied. “Noted. Call me George. As for the uniform, you’ll see. Got your ticket for the convention?”
I fumbled around in my pocket and located the ticket. “Yep, still got it.” Guardedly, I showed it to him.
“Excellent,” he said as he eyed the thin metal wafer with obsessive admiration. “You know, I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Notice the patina around the edges. Feel how light it is. A metal with all of these properties couldn’t possibly be crafted by human hands…”
I shrugged, replying “Yeah, cool, I guess.” I hastily shoved the ticket back into my pocket, unnerved by George’s enthusiasm. I got the feeling that if I let him look at it too long, he might snatch it from me.
“Right, then!” He said, wiping his brow. “Follow me to the kitchen. I lagged behind him under a weight of doubt and suspicion as he pushed open a pair of swinging metal doors and waltzed his way through the restaurant’s innards. Looking at me, he pointed at a strange walk-in cooler. “Just step inside.”
Hmm… nope.
“Nope!” I declared, planting my feet firmly. “This a fridge too far. Things are getting weird beyond…” As I vehemently shook my head in defiance, the strange cooler’s doors whooshed open to reveal racks of vegetables and meats, along with a brilliant beam of blue energy erupting against the backdrop of a starry void. As I gazed into the beam, I became acutely aware of the fact that for everyone else in the kitchen, this was business as usual. Not a thing had changed. The prep line kept going, the sounds of feet shuffling about continued, totally unaffected by the brilliant cosmic event erupting from their walk-in cooler. I whispered, audible only to myself, “What the hell is this?”
George, anticipating my ignorance, explained. “This is a Mark II Dimensional Violator, rated for food and cargo. It scans you, converts your matter into energy, does a bunch of math, then rematerializes you somewhere else. Agnub’s people have been supplying this restaurant for years. How do you think they knew about you? You joined the restaurant Loyalty Club, after all.”
Dumbfounded, I stared straight into the beam shining forth beyond the containers of lettuce, onions, peppers, cheese, shredded chicken, and ground beef. I point toward it and look to George. “And I’m supposed to go in there? Is Agnub on the other side?”
George nodded slowly and rolled his eyes. “Yes and no. Yes, you go in the fridge and walk into the beam. No, Agnub has a separate flight booked. He’s taking a luxury liner, he bought the tickets months ago. A class transport like that refuses to carry humans. He had to find a public cruiser that would agree to take you. Off Earth, humans have an ‘eh’ reputation in the larger cosmos. Folks think homo sapiens are fascinating, but a little too xenophobic to be safe. Anyway, he wanted me to tell you that you’ll find him in the main convention hall. Good luck, I’ve heard that place is a zoo, but damn fun all the same.”
I looked back into the beam and took a deep breath. “You said it’s rated for food and cargo. Is it safe for people?”
George chuckled, “You’re human, easy-peasy. Basic stuff. The beam will send you straight to your seat on the cruiser. From there on out, just enjoy the ride.”
Once again feeling as though I was losing my mind, I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and walked into the cooler. As I felt the beam from the Dimensional Violator begin to disassemble me at the atomic level, I heard the doors whoosh shut behind me, while the smell of fresh cilantro made me very slightly hungry.