“Well, we have cows and goats that give milk you can drink,” Becca said. “But no, I wasn’t talking about anything like that. It’s called a sweatshirt because…well, I don’t know why it’s called that, actually. All I know is that it’s warm and comfy.” She sighed.
Far shook his head. “I don’t understand why your own image of what you wanted didn’t prevail. After all, you were trying your hardest to project too.”
“I was,” Becca said thoughtfully. “But maybe because the two of you are twins you have more weight in this whole…projection thing.” She looked frustrated. “You know, if I could just show you a picture of what I mean we could all get on the same page. It’s what I always wear back home when it gets cold but we’ve been on the Mothership so long where it’s always climate controlled you guys never got a chance to see it.”
“Never mind, Becca,” Far said, putting an arm around her. “Perhaps we should all picture something we have seen you in before. What about the silver protective suit you had on earlier? That would certainly keep you warm.”
“Actually, it doesn’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it keeps me from freezing like you promised, but I kept thinking how I always felt a little bit chilly in it.” Becca shook her head. “Look, never mind, guys—I’ll wear this. It’s pretty warm and we need to try and make something for the two of you.”
“We should keep trying for you until we get it right,” Truth said stubbornly but Becca shook her head again.
“Who knows how much juice we’ve got left? I mean, how many projections can we get out of, uh, what we just did? We need to project some clothes for you guys—but this time let’s stick with something we know.”
The three of them closed their eyes and began again…but still with limited success.
“Why are my Goddess damned trousers so tight?” Truth complained, pulling at the crotch of his black flight leathers.
“Mine as well.” Far winced and shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable in the new clothes which had suddenly appeared on his body.
“My shirt doesn’t even button up all the way,” Truth continued. “You can see my chest.”
“And mine.” Far frowned down at himself.
“Um…” Becca sounded embarrassed. “Those details may be my fault, guys.”
“Your fault, how so?” Truth demanded.
“Well…you know how you picture me in a slinky negligee?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Oh.” He nodded. “Of course. Am I to take it that you like to see us in tight and revealing clothes as much as we enjoy seeing you dressed in such items?”
“Is that right, Becca?” Far raised an eyebrow at her.
“Well…” Becca was blushing again. “You can’t blame a girl for fantasizing. And the two of you are some pretty damn fine man-candy.”
Truth frowned. “What kind of confection did you say we are? Is that an Earth delicacy?”
“Depends on who you talk to.” Becca giggled, clearly enjoying a private joke. “Look, maybe we should try again.”
“No,” Truth said abruptly. “You are willing to wear the odd things we projected for you, I think Far and I can put up with a little discomfort.”
“Well, that’s very chivalrous of you, Truth.” Becca smiled at him. “But really, if those trousers are so tight they’re squeezing your, uh, package…”
“We’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “We need to conserve energy. Lying here dressing each other in ill-fitting and ridiculous clothing may be amusing but it doesn’t accomplish our mission. We need to make the next projection a door out of here—a door that leads to Vashtar.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“I don’t understand what’s going wrong. That’s the seventh door we’ve projected and they all lead nowhere.”
Truth sounded really frustrated and honestly, Becca didn’t blame him. The Vashtar avatar had made it sound like navigating the Mindscape and getting anything they wanted there would be a piece of cake. In reality, they couldn’t seem to do anything right. Every door they made was a hodge-podge looking creation that seemed to be made out of memories all three of them had from their respective home planets.
Some had ornately carved handles liked the ones Far said he remembered. A few had lovely old glass knobs that looked exactly like the ones at Becca’s grandmother’s house. One was simply a curtain made of lengths of light, hollow wood strung together to form strands of long beads which Truth said was what they used on Pax. (Becca wondered how they ever got any privacy.) Most doors were an amalgamation of all three styles.
The closest they got to making a door that didn’t look crazy or mismatched was when they all agreed to imagine one of the metal, sliding panels which were used aboard the Mother Ship. But their excitement was short lived because when the panel whooshed silently open, it revealed nothing but more of the formless gray mist.
And that was the main problem—whether the doors they projected together looked normal or not, none of them led anywhere.
“Maybe we’re doing this wrong,” Becca said. “We just don’t seem to have the hang of it.”
“We have to keep trying,” Far said. “We can’t expect to be perfect at it right away. The Orthanxians had a whole solar year to practice before they moved into the Mindscape. We haven’t even been here a day.”
“I’m not saying we should give up,” Truth growled, sounding irritable. “We can’t. Until we can make a working door that leads somewhere, we are never going to get out of here.”
“He’s right,” Becca said, sighing. “But could we just give the doors a break for a minute and try something else?”
“Like what?” Far looked concerned. “Do you want to try for some different clothes, mi’now?”
“No.” Becca put a hand to her stomach. “I want to try for some food. I guess I shouldn’t be, since we’re supposedly being nourished by the nutrient slime, but I’m hungry.”
“I am, also,” Truth said, unexpectedly agreeing with her.
“I’m hungry as well,” Far said. He settled back against the headboard of the bed, where they were all still sitting. “All right, no more doors for now. What should we try to project to eat?”
“Nothing fancy or complicated,” Becca said quickly. “Something easy that we all like.”
But it proved a lot harder to find something they all wanted and knew about than she had hoped. Now she wished she had gone out to dinner with one or both of them before, but that had always felt too serious somehow. She’d confined her “dates” with the two of them to walking around the ship or meeting at a friend’s suite. Unfortunately, that meant she wasn’t very familiar with Twin Moons or Pax cuisine and neither twin had ever tasted Earth food either.
Far did know a little in theory, however, from studying her culture. When Becca mentioned pizza, he nodded thoughtfully.
“It that a large round disk covered in red sauce and sprinkled with the white stuff that melts when it gets hot?”
“Cheese! Yes, exactly,” Becca exclaimed. “And there are toppings—lots of different toppings.”
Truth made a face. “Stuff that melts when it gets hot? How does it melt? Like metal or—”
“No, no,” Becca interrupted. “Cheese isn’t some kind of alloy—it’s a dairy product. Look, just believe me—it’s delicious. If Far and I describe it to you really well, do you think you could help us project it?”
The dark twin shrugged. “I can try.”
“Good.” Becca rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Okay, let’s start with the crust…”
She described the perfect pizza from her favorite pizza place, Eddie and Sam’s in downtown Tampa. Eddie and Sam’s imported spring water from upstate New York because Eddie claimed it made all the difference and Becca had to agree. Nowhere else had she ever tasted such thin, crispy, perfect crust. She did her best to describe it, as well as the tangy tomato sauce and the melted cheese. She was most worried about this part, but Far seemed to know what she was talkin
g about and Truth promised to concentrate on the crust which he said sounded easy enough.
“Didn’t you say there are toppings?” Far asked, before they began to project.
“Well, yes,” Becca said doubtfully. Her mouth watered for an everything pie but she could just imagine what it would come out looking like. “Mostly savory meats or chopped up vegetables but you don’t have to have them. Maybe we should stick to cheese pizza for now.”
Truth nodded. “Agreed. Let’s try.”
Closing her eyes, Becca wished for the perfect pizza. Warm, crispy, crunchy, gooey…perfect.
When she opened her eyes, there it was, sitting on a round metal pizza pan on the bed in front of them.
“Look—look it worked! We finally got something right!” Becca could hardly contain her excitement—or her hunger. Her stomach was growling to taste some of the delicious looking pizza. It was even cut into eight equal wedges. There were no plates but she didn’t even care. She reached for a slice of pizza and took a great big bite…only to spit it back out into her hand.
“What’s wrong, Becca?” Far asked.
“Does it not taste right?” Truth asked.
“It tastes horrible,” Becca said. “The crust is like cardboard and the cheese is like Elmer’s glue. And the sauce…” She sniffed the offending piece of pizza carefully. “Why does the sauce smell like old, rotten fish?”
“Apologies,” Truth said. “When you were describing the red sauce all flecked with ground up herbs and spices I couldn’t help thinking that it must look like a mixture of minced fish offal and blood that we use on Pax while hunting tharn—large aquatic creatures that breed in some of our deeper lakes.”
Becca looked at him in disbelief.
“Minced fish guts and blood…you mean chum? You put chum on my pizza?”
“Not intentionally!” Truth held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “But it must have somehow been in my mind as we projected.”
“You were just supposed to think about the crust,” Becca pointed out. “You should have left the sauce alone.”
“I tried to,” Truth growled. “As I said, it was not intentional. I cannot help what is in my subconscious—there are only so many apologies I can offer.”
“The cheese being wrong may have been my fault,” Far said. “I’m afraid I don’t really know what it tastes like—only what it looks like.” He shrugged. “I have no idea what happened to the crust.”
“I don’t either—I was really concentrating on it since it’s my favorite part.” Becca sighed unhappily and put the nasty pizza on the floor by the side of the bed. “I’m sorry, Truth—I didn’t mean to shout at you. It’s just…the pizza looked so perfect. Biting into it and finding it was all wrong was kind of a let down.” She ran a hand through her hair. “If only we could think of something we’ve all eaten so we all know what it’s supposed to look and taste like…”
“I know of some Earth cuisine we have all eaten before—the miniature confections made by Becca’s friend, Lauren,” Far said.
“Oh, perfect—cupcakes!” Becca exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that? I’ve had every single kind she makes but the chocolate ones are the best.”
“Chocolate?” Truth asked. “Isn’t that the flavor the Earth females ascribe to that Twin Moons delicacy? What is it called…?”
“If you mean grieza worms, then yes,” Far said.
Becca shivered. “Ugh, those things. I know they’re supposed to taste really good but I just can’t make myself eat a worm. Anyway, enough about that.” She put her fingertips to her temples. “Let’s really concentrate this time. You’ve both had the deep dark devil’s food chocolate—I know you have because Lauren brought a plate to Kat’s place the other day and you both ate one.”
“That was before we agreed to work together,” Truth murmured, casting a sidelong glance at his twin.
“Yes. Before we agreed to bond.” Far returned the glance with a steady gaze and soon the dark twin looked away. Becca wondered what was going on between them but she was too hungry to make them talk it out right now.
“Okay, whatever,” she said. “Does everybody have the chocolate cupcake in their head? Good, then…go.”
She thought as hard as she could about a plate full of Lauren’s sinfully rich deep dark devil’s food chocolate cupcakes. She’d held back on eating more than one the last time Lauren had brought them because they went straight to her hips and ass.
But this time I’m going to eat as many as I want, she promised herself. After all, here in the Mindscape, calories don’t count. So I can have as much as I feel like.
“Becca?” Far said. “I think we did it.”
Becca opened her eyes and was cautiously excited to see a plate full of the perfect devil’s food cupcakes sitting on a round platter on the bed. They looked exactly like Lauren’s perfect little confections, right down to the thick, precisely swirled loops if icing crowning each one.
But the proof is in the taste, Becca told herself.
Reaching down, she snagged a cupcake and brought it to her face. She inhaled deeply…
“Mmm, chocolate,” she almost moaned.
“Taste it,” Far urged.
“What does it taste like?” Truth asked at the same time.
Carefully, Becca dipped a finger in the creamy icing and put it in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she heard herself make a soft sound of pure delight. It was the way only really good chocolate or really good sushi affected her.
“It tastes perfect,” she whispered reverently, opening her eyes. “You guys, grab a cupcake. I’m digging in.”
Bringing the cupcake to her lips, she took a huge bite of creamy frosting, dense, moist, luscious cake…and something that wriggled in her mouth.
“What the—?” Becca spat the mouthful hastily into her cupped palm and took a closer look at the cupcake. Something long and thin and covered in chocolate cake crumbs was poking out of the center. Several somethings, in fact.
Becca screamed and dropped the cupcake on the bed, where it left chocolate smears on the white mattress.
“What? What is it?” Truth demanded, looking as though he wished he could draw a weapon and defend her from whatever the threat was.
“It…it…” Becca shook her head and wiped her mouth reflexively with the back of her hand. She felt like she was going to gag. “Worms! There are worms in the freaking cupcakes!”
Truth picked up the half eaten cupcake and frowned at its writhing, wriggling center. “Grieza worms. Which one of us was thinking about those?”
“We all were,” Far said quietly. “We were discussing them before we tried the projection, remember?”
“That was horrible,” Becca said, still fighting the urge to gag. “Worm cupcakes have to be the most nasty-ass thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Even worse than the chum pizza.”
“I am sorry you are disappointed,” Truth said. “Perhaps we should try to project something from my home planet this time. We have a beast on Pax called a heribo. It is about the size of one of your Earth animals—as big as a large dog, I think. It has very savory cuts of meat, especially on its tail…”
“Stop, right there.” Becca put up a hand. “If the Mindscape is reading subconscious ideas and images then you’ve just prejudiced me right off the bat by talking about dog. Now no matter how you describe this…this heribo thingy, it’s going to come out looking like a dog or tasting like a dog or both.” She shivered. “Not that I know what dog tastes like but I’m sure my subconscious will come up with something nasty enough anyway.”
“Becca is right, Brother.” Far had a look of deep concentration on his face. “We’re never going to be able to make anything from her planet correctly—or any of our home planets for that matter.”
“Don’t say that,” Becca protested. “We have to keep trying.”
“We can but we’re doomed to failure,” Far said seriously. “No, hear me out,” he said, raising a hand when Becca a
nd Truth started to protest. “We’re going to keep failing because number one:” He held up one finger. “Tastes are too complicated to ever really fully explain. Trying to describe the taste of a simthon fruit, for instance, is like trying to describe a sunset to a person without sight—it’s simply too much information to take in second hand.”
“But—” Becca began.
“Second,” Far held up two fingers. “Our subconscious minds are working against us. Even if we manage to think only of the food we are trying to project, there will still be random background thoughts—thoughts we’re not even aware that we’re thinking. But the Mindscape will hear them and work them into our projection whether we want them there or not.”
“He’s right,” Truth said heavily. “We are going to slowly starve in here.”
“That or learn to love chum pizza and worm cupcakes,” Becca said glumly.
“We never should have come!” The dark twin picked up the platter of offending cupcakes and, with a sudden, violent motion, hurled them into the gray mist. “Goddess damn it!” he shouted.
Becca jumped, unnerved by his anger. “Truth!”
“You shouldn’t give in to rage, Brother,” Far said. “It won’t solve anything.”
“Why shouldn’t I be angry?” Truth got off the bed and began pacing back and forth. “We’re trapped here—do you understand that? Either our minds are not close enough to the Orthanxians to function in this place or we’re missing some vital piece of information for making things work. But either way, we are never getting out.”
“Don’t say that,” Becca pleaded. She had been harboring the same dark thought herself but trying not to let it come to the surface. Hearing the dark twin say it out loud seemed to cement it as reality.
“I am only telling the truth,” Truth snapped. “And if you—” He stabbed a finger at Far. “Hadn’t convinced us to come down here, we could all three be safely aboard the shuttle bound for home right now.”
“Which home do you mean, Brother?” Far asked coldly. “The Mother Ship—the home of your true people? Or Pax, home to the race that taught you to hate all that you are and abandon all you could become for some outdated notion of—”