{"id":2433,"date":"2022-10-08T12:12:07","date_gmt":"2022-10-08T19:12:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2433"},"modified":"2022-10-08T12:12:07","modified_gmt":"2022-10-08T19:12:07","slug":"the-volunteer-agent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2022\/10\/08\/the-volunteer-agent\/","title":{"rendered":"The Volunteer Agent"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story about a character who can\u2019t tell what\u2019s real and what\u2019s not.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is imperative that I get stronger. I cannot rely on others to save me forever. That is why I train in every available moment; to be able to save myself without the serum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No one said that delving into the Otherworld would be easy or safe. That didn\u2019t stop me from volunteering. I thought I was trained enough for the mission, at least until I first encountered them \u2014 the inhabitants of the Otherworld.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Many are grotesque, warped, hideous, and yet\u2026a few seem normal, almost beautiful. It was one of the beautiful ones that laid me low the first time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The training that came before the mission was mental\u2026emotional\u2026not the physical training I so desperately need now. I can still feel the halo device being lowered onto my shaved head. I pushed aside my fear with the memory that I volunteered<\/em> for this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a moment of brief disorientation as the training loaded into my brain, then I was there. I learned how to move through the Otherworld, how to explore, discover, collect evidence and keys to their defeat. I learned how to keep myself grounded in the moment, hide my thoughts from them, and remain undetected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Events after the training are broken and disjointed in my memory. The crossing over and back again takes a toll. I do, however, remember the trip in the grey ship; days and weeks passed as I was transported to the gate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have my quarters here in the gate station. I\u2019m not the only agent exploring the Otherworld. There are many more here. We do not wear the uniforms of the helpers and support crew. As I spend every waking moment here training, I opt for sweats and soft sneakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I said, I need to get stronger\u2026physically. The Otherworld is dangerous\u2026often violently so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The support crew sometimes come through the gate, just long enough to inject a serum that gives us the strength to jump back through the gate. It\u2019s never pleasant, but so far, it\u2019s the only thing between me and death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My goal with constant training is to be able to complete my missions without the serum. While the support crew are friendly enough, they seem to be incapable of normal conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The one that injected me this time, and jumped back through the gate with me, gave me a sad smile. I can\u2019t recall what he said, but it made no sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need to get these keys to the director,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He said, \u201cNow you can rest. I\u2019ll check on you later, during my rounds.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said, \u201cI can\u2019t<\/em> rest right now, the Director needs these keys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nodded. \u201cYes, that\u2019s good. I\u2019ll see you later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Knowing from the sound of the door clicking that I was currently confined to my quarters, I began working out again. Tired or not, I had<\/em> to get stronger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There seems to be an unwritten rule that agents don\u2019t talk about their missions. I figured that out my first day when I realized that none of the agents would talk about the Otherworld or the gate. Whatever helps them cope, I guess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a station so far away from everything, the Director has gone out of her way to make the agents comfortable. The ever-changing scenery displayed on the false windows looks real \u2014 sometimes too real \u2014 and the food is better than one would expect for the pre-packaged plastic ration trays; segmented into compartments for each different item. I often wondered how they could heat some compartments and chill others. Technology is wonderful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Depending on an agent\u2019s current state, they either received their plastic tray of food in the dining hall with the others, or in their quarters. Since I\u2019m currently relegated to in-quarters rest, my tray of food was brought to my room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today\u2019s breakfast was buckwheat pancakes. That means my weekly debrief with the Director happens later this afternoon. I guess that\u2019s why the support guy didn\u2019t seem to be in a hurry to get the keys to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s another issue with these missions; the loss of time. Every trip to the Otherworld and back leaves me unsure of what day or time it is. It seems as though time passes differently there than here. Then again, the serum distorts the passage of time as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had barely eaten half of my breakfast, after what I thought was a short workout, and one of the support crew came to take me to my weekly debrief. No matter, I had nine keys from my last mission for the Director. I held out the hope that she would recognize my good work and offer me some time off\u2026maybe back on Earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The artificial window in her office showed a grey drizzle. They really thought of everything when they built this station. The Director wore her heavy, black, plastic-framed glasses, and a tan sweater beneath her white uniform coat. Like many people with advanced degrees, she preferred to be referred to as Doctor or Doc rather than Director.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfternoon, Doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood afternoon.\u201d Her desk was more cluttered than usual. She read the reports that the support crew were always writing. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you tell me how your week has been?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLast mission, I captured nine keys,\u201d I said. \u201cI have them here for you.\u201d I checked the pocket of my sweats, but the keys were gone. Maybe the other pocket? Not there either. A panic began to build.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not important,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey must have fallen out when I was working out,\u201d I told her. \u201cI\u2019m trying to get stronger. I have to<\/em> get stronger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy do you feel you need to be stronger?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo I have the strength to make it back from\u2026,\u201d I stopped myself. Even the Director didn\u2019t like it when the Otherworld was mentioned directly. \u201cI need to be able to get back on my own power, without endangering the crew.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Director nodded and continued to take notes. \u201cWhat kind of workouts are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPush-ups, sit-ups, lunges, squats; whatever I can do without equipment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you feel it\u2019s helping?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think it is,\u201d I said. \u201cI almost made it back on my own last time.\u201d I shook my head. \u201cThe\u2026shot\u2026was way too strong.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She made another note. \u201cDo you think you\u2019d ever want to go back to what you used to do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBefore you came here. Do you remember what your job was?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI designed a mind-brain interface,\u201d I said, \u201cbut it was silly. It was just for a game, not like the serious training I got for this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you remember the name of the game?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought hard. It wasn\u2019t coming; it just wasn\u2019t important enough to have stuck. I shook my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Director stood a box with a fancy graphic on her desk. \u201cThe Otherworld,\u201d it said. \u201cDoes this look familiar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It did, but it didn\u2019t at the same time. Like once before, the inhabitants of the Otherworld were trying to take my mind; make me an ineffective agent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked at the Director. Something in her hesitant smile was wrong. I wasn\u2019t in the Director\u2019s office, I\u2019d been sucked back into the Otherworld! That\u2019s why the keys were missing; they were never here to begin with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stood and readied myself to fight. \u201cI may not be as strong as I want to be, but I\u2019m strong enough to take you down and get the Director back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next hours were a blur. I fought with the Otherworld denizens; the beautiful one that tried to impersonate the Director, and a dozen or more of the warped and hideous creatures. I captured a key and used it on the locked door I found hidden in the side of a temple guarded by the creatures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I knew I\u2019d freed the Director when she herself injected me with the serum. As I came to, I was in her office, rather than my quarters. The gate had never opened here before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had a bruise forming on her cheek. They\u2019d mistreated her. As for me, my ribs hurt, my right hand felt like I\u2019d slammed it into a wall. The Otherworld denizens were tough. Besides that, the arm where the Director had injected the serum was a little sore, but we were overall safe. The clock on the wall showed that only a few minutes had passed. Time worked differently there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDirector, you\u2019re safe. Thank god.\u201d I thought it was the Director, but I was worried that maybe they\u2019d replaced her again, with a better impersonator.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Doctor, remember? You\u2019re safe here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled. I knew that an impersonator wouldn\u2019t know the passphrase. Two of the support crew were standing by, including the man that had rescued me the time before. \u201cCould the crew help me to my quarters?\u201d I asked. \u201cI\u2019m feeling a little weak and could use some rest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure. You get some rest. We\u2019ll talk more tomorrow\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry I didn\u2019t bring back any keys, but your safety was more important.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I was helped to my feet to leave, I noticed that her desk was tidy, and the box the Otherworlder had shown me was nowhere to be found. I will need to be more careful of my surroundings from now on, but I will continue; I volunteered for this.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story about a character who can\u2019t tell what\u2019s real and what\u2019s not. available at Reedsy It is imperative that I get stronger. I cannot rely on others to save me forever. That …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[214,210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-drama","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-Df","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2433"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2434,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2433\/revisions\/2434"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}