Young Writers Society

Pam returned. “I found three results, sir.”

The scientist scoffed. “You’re a prisoner. You don’t get tech-touching privileges. Your crimes make your hands grubby.”

"Excellent. Send them to my screen, would you?"

Pam obliged, and soon enough, the head scientist was focused on the screen. He muttered something about likely point of origin and interdimensional interference.

Sage pouted. "But I'm a mechanic-inventor. I bet I could fix anything you need." She tried her best innocent smile.

Cyra rolled their eyes. “This is bullshit.”

The scientist scoffed. “We have no reason to trust you.”

The scientist ignored Cyra's comment. "Now, tell me. Would people in your world happen to drink an electric-- wait. No electricity. Then, would they happen to drink a bright blue substance as an energy drink?" He squinted at the first image on his screen. "Universe 951-a5f-0e3."

"I can list my accomplishments, if you'd like." Sage grinned. "I've fixed about four hundred and fifty teabots, two hundred hoverboards, and various other devices. Plus, I've invented things like the automatic toothbrush cover and window cleaner with enhanced smog-battling capabilites!" She glanced around. "I bed you could do with a cleaning bot here. Although how would it keep from knocking into any equipment? Hmm... that would be a sensors problem... perhaps additional ones all along its height. Plus, a laser distance meter."

Cyra blinked. “A what? Bright blue…” Xe snorted. “No, dumbass.”

“You just made all of that up.” The scientist scoffed. “There’s no such thing as a teabot.”

Sage was about to protest that yes, there was absolutely a such thing as a teabot, when she heard the faint sound of footsteps from the hallway. They were sharp and precise, like a metronome. She cocked her head to listen better, tuning out the scientist questioning Cyra as he said, "Don't lie to me. I know your world drinks this."

Cyra sighed. Fine. If he wasn’t going to believe the truth, maybe he’d believe a lie.

“You caught me. We drink it every Sunday, fifteen minutes before midnight. We light a single candle and drink it around its flickering light. We do it to honor our ancestors, carry on the memories of the dead. We call it Bone Wine.”

They sighed. “Happy? What other secrets do you want?”

The scientist perked up and started typing rapidly. "There we go. See, being communicative is much easier all around!"

The footsteps grew louder. Sage leaned forward on her chair, trying to gauge if they were heading towards the lab.

Cyra rolled their eyes, leaning back. “Are you satisfied than?” They sighed and looked towards the door. Probably just more people passing through. Unimportant.

The scientist was about to reply when the footsteps stopped and a knock sounded sharply on the door.

The knocker didn't wait for a response and simply strolled right in. Sage stared. Somehow, the lady walked with an efficiency that reminded Sage of the best computers she'd seen. Sage was only a little bit jealous.

Cyra looked at this newcomer, feeling very annoyed. “What do you want?”

The lady stared coolly at Cyra with sharp eyes. "Only that you be free." Then she turned to the scientists and said crisply, "Release these two. Orders from the higher-ups." She flashed a badge and smoothly located the button to free them from their restraints.

Cyra groaned and stretched out, standing up. “Yeah thank you. This hasn’t been fun and I hope I never see you all again.” They gave the most sarcastic half bow they could manage and walked out.

Sage danced to the door as well. Scatterbrained as she could be, she knew an escape key when she saw it.

The lady turned on her heel. She slapped away one scientist's feeble attempt at a protest on her way out the door.

Cyra looked back, looking at this woman, before stepping fully into the hallway, not bothering to look if Sage was following her. He walked quickly, heading down the hallway and, hopefully, towards the exit.