Unnamed Journal Volume 2, Issue 3 - Page 33

Void, Chapter 5 there was a copy of him walking around the prize, telling Jae that there was no reason to fear. He did not like that thought but there was nothing he could do about it. He did not know where he was. He did not know if he was.  He reached up his left hand and looked at it. He wiggled his fingers. He reached up his right hand and touched his left with it. He felt the sensations exactly as he should. He reached down and touched his spacesuit and felt the appropriate sensations in his torso.  He was still him. He was still here. He just didn't know where here was. Gradually he became aware of a shift in motion. He was going up. The light began to change as well, admitting patterns of color that became regular and predictable. Something was going by him. He shifted direction again and was going in a way that felt like backwards. He heard a sound that resembled the swish of one of the mechanical doors aboard the Vulture. He had a vague sense that he was at last somewhere rather than nowhere. Suddenly his back felt something. It was such an odd sensation that he momentarily reacted, stiffening and turning away from it. Then he found himself on the floor of the Vulture's confinement cell. There was a grey bench above him - it must have been this that his back had touched. The dust, the thing, the whatever, had brought him back through space to confine him aboard the one place on the ship that he was incapable of escaping. He was quite literally trapped. But he was still alive. And the whatever wanted him that way.  Lang stood up and sat on the bench. He looked around the very small room. He looked at the door. "All right," he said. "I'm ready to talk." UJ