“What’s wrong, Tara?” Lee sprints ahead of me.

“Argh! So. Many. Questions! How do people deal with children!?” Tara ends her complaint by putting her face on the table. “I covered most of their questions in the seminar.” Lee pats her hand trying to comfort her.

I slowly walk to the table and sit down. “I didn’t pay much attention to the seminar.”

Tara snorts at me, “But you were crawling underneath chairs for over half an hour. Scared of a charming young woman who, I guess you could argue, possibly kidnapped your brother.” She smirks at me. “You get a one-time pass.”

Lee pipes in helpfully, “If there are any questions you can’t handle, or you need some time to think about, I can answer some! I did help design the game after all,” he smiles proudly at her.

My seat creaks as I lean back into it. “What kind of questions are they asking? Before I forget, did you fix up the rooms and stuff?”

“Questions range anywhere from, ‘Can I get my superspecial creature personally modified without any of your input? Where is the bacon? Can I have a cowboy hat? Are you single?’ The list goes on and on.”

“Who asked if you were- you know what? Never mind. I bet there’s a lot of kids who haven’t reached out to anyone outside of their own little survival family. You must seem like a breath of fresh air.”

“Yes, it seems like the rude boys who were with Juan do not like him. Juan must be starved for actual friendship if he was stuck with those jerks all the time.” Tara lets out an exasperated huff. “I can’t figure out why he looks out for them. He offered to pay a fine or whatever to release them. Naturally, I released them when their time-out was done and did not take a dime from Juan.”

I feel a twinge of guilt in my chest. Juan helped me out. I needed to repay him. And it sounds like he really needs a true friend.

“Tara, maybe sticking around here and dividing your processing power isn’t helping you. Would maintaining one physical presence be better? Less strenuous I guess? What is it like to be an AI anyway?”

“That is… actually a good point. It would decrease how many kids I can interact with too leaving me more time to set up tomorrow’s tests. I did find a possible helper. Thanks, bye!” Tara waves and gives Lee a quick hug. Then she slowly fades into blue light. Becoming a Holo seagull once more. It blinks at me, squawks, and flies through the dusk back to the hotel. If we wait much longer, it’s going to be hard to see our way back in the dark.

“Race you back, Gēgē!” Lee sprints away following the seagull. I grin. I take a final look back at the little shack on the beach. If Tara keeps writing the reports for me, I might as well treat this place like a vacation getaway. Like our ancestors did. I race after Lee. I catch up to him around the stairs, but don’t pass him. I make him work for a win.

“I’m going to beat you!” I playfully snipe at him.

“No. You. Won’t!” Lee gasps back at me.

My extremely intelligent reply is blowing a raspberry in his face. His instantaneous riposte is a raspberry right back at me. We laugh at each other as Lee reaches the front doors and raises his trembling arms in victory. Immediately dropping them as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Hands on knees, Lee. It helps you recover faster because your lungs have more room to expand and get oxygen.” Lee looks perplexed, but follows my advice instead of flopping to the ground. Truth be told, the research I read was mixed. It’s probably optimal to do what feels best for each individual. But a goal always focuses my mind.

I keep my hands on my hips to encourage my own recovery while I take a look around the lobby. It looks brighter. Friendlier somehow. I realize it’s because the electric lights are working. A warm glow caresses the night. An electric glow unseen outside of Faraday cages or underground bunkers. There’s no more broken glass on the ground. I even see a few familiar faces from the theater. I wave to them and a few wave back at me. I realize there’s a new face here that I didn’t notice in the theater. A blonde girl who just stares at me impassively before she turns around and heads up the stairs. Cold shoulder it is. I hear a polite cough behind me.

Turning around I don’t see anything. A harumph from below directs me to look down. Someone shorter than me. Feels kind of nice.

Looking below, I see a penguin. I look down further and note it’s wearing a butler uniform similar to one from the few children’s books we have at Sojourn. He has to be a Holo Tara created. The penguin butler adjusts a monocle and an elderly voice asks us, “Would the young masters like to see their room?”

“Uh, sure…” I glance at the penguin butler’s name tag, “Alfred.”

“This way to the boys’ floor.” The butler steps out from behind the front desk counter and leads us up the stairs. “A few rules, young masters. Boys must stay on the second floor after sunset. Co-ed siblings are allowed on the third floor. Only girls are allowed to the top floor. All guests must follow the rule of no entering other hotel rooms after sunset or face expulsion from this Alpha test. If you need any water, food, pillows, or other accommodations, simply pick up the telephone in your room and ask for Alfred. I can show you what the telephone is and how to use it if you don’t know.”

“No need, Alfred.” I reply.

“What about toilets?” The penguin queries.

Lee sniffs proudly. “I learned that when I was a baby!”

Alfred stares at us and lifts a monocle to one eye. “Excellent.” He leads us down a hallway filled with doors. The efficient use of space reminds me of Sojourn. It’s hard to imagine enough people on land to warrant the crowded architecture. There’s so much space everywhere! And yet people designed ways to pack themselves as tightly as possible. I struggled to fathom it. The penguin stops at a door, “Your room is number fourteen. Here is your key card. Don’t lose it.” Alfred hands me a plastic card with a black stripe on the back. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“Tara, why can’t we use our Terrors’ badges as our keys?” Lee asks towards Alfred.

“Lee, that is such a good idea!” Alfred says in Tara’s voice. It’s very disconcerting. Especially when Alfred adopts Tara’s gestures.

“Attention all Alpha testers, your Terror’s badges are now configured to act as a card key for your room. You don’t need to worry about the cards.” I hear a sob of relief down the hallway. I guess not everyone likes old tech. Or someone already lost their key.

“Why are they called Terrors anyway? I thought your game called them Cryptids.” I ask Lee.

He smiles up at me, “Tara’s idea! And there shouldn’t be any copyright issues.”

“I think copyright died with the Old World War.”

“Well, President Belen always wants us to be fair in our negotiations. Stealing ideas is a terrible way to introduce ourselves. Especially when we can make new ones!” Lee bellyflops onto the bed. A small amount of dust pops off the ancient mattress.

“Alfred, you did check for bed bugs and stuff, right?” I ask the butler stand-in.

“I address the issue with each check-in to more efficiently spend my time. Not all rooms are taken. Thus not all need cleaning. Young Master Oakley please stand back. Deploying countermeasures.”

“Aww. But it’s so bouncy!”

“You’ll get to see a cool light show.” The penguin responds as he buffs the monocle.

“Sweet!” Lee bounces again and uses his momentum to push himself back to me. I catch him as his arms pinwheel for balance. We watch as Alfred puts his flippers on the mattress and the air cools noticeably. Alfred’s flippers glow hypnotically, like a campfire, as he robotically flattens and heats each piece of fabric. He continues the process like an intelligent clothing iron. Lee starts shivering before Alfred finishes his task. My new jacket, or Rayment, keeps me surprisingly neutral in the temperature department.

“All done, young masters. Do you require any toiletries, food, or have any further questions?”

Lee yawns, “I’m ready for bed unless Tara wants to pick my brain some more!” That’s a surprise. Lee’s usually fussy about bed time. Maybe all the excitement today tired him out too?

I think about it for a second before I realize I do have a question I need to ask. “Alfred, where’s Juan?”