Ruha’s room was on the third floor. The escalator took him down in a spiralling column framed by glass. The entire building was ten floors, with seven bedrooms in each, apart from the ground floor which contained the lounge, playroom, helpdesk, kitchen and dining hall, storeroom, healing hall – Ruha’s brain brought forth all the data quite readily. He also remembered that at this time Lephis was likely to be at the help desk.
Stepping down from the escalator, Ruha first went towards the lounge. It was a large space, opening out to a stretch of green at the front of the building. The entire left wall was a screen with various pieces of words and pictures flashing on it.
This was the job board. This world, as Ruha had realised during the memory overload, was far kinder than his world had been. Not only were basic needs like food, clothing and shelter provided for by the governing system, and the education till accessing adulthood being free and compulsory to all – but the ruling system also provided a constant flow of opportunities for jobs and projects for those like himself, that is, homeless and dependant on public services and funds. This job board carried a number of work adverts – with new ones being sent every day. Every organisation of any strata or field that hired workers, were legally required to send hiring adverts of a certain percentage of all their projects to public shelters.
Ruha remembered Lephis helping him with taking jobs from here – the host body had only ever taken art related projects, and Ruha could also remember memories of running a freelance art business. In fact, from the memories, Ruha felt that it was not because of finances but rather due to incapability of selfcare that Ruha stayed here – though of course, these were all his assumptions. Ruha’s brain had no memories regarding why or how the original host came to be here. It was almost like the life of the original person began from this place and everything before was a complete blank.
At present he had come here because there was a memory in him showing some of the adverts on this board were often for small roles in movies.
In his own life, Ruha had stood at the top of glamour world for the last eleven years of his life. He had been the globally acclaimed movie emperor for those ten years, as well as claiming top awards from theatrical circles for the first three years of that decade. He had entered the industry at thirteen, as a part time job to support the orphanage he grew up in, at sixteen he debuted his first major role in a stage production of King Lear, when both the actor and his understudy playing Lear suddenly cancelled for health reasons and he was the only one available – after his depiction of the old king that had the audience speechless and coming back for multiple viewing when his age was revealed in a review next day, Ruha had not had to look back any more. Starting from next year, he had won and kept a continuous claim on every top awards for lead roles that the movies entered in, along with a number of awards for supporting roles and direction, though he had far less script offers for supporting roles, and directing was something he had taken up only for two years, before his health declined and he had to choose between acting and directing. At that time he needed the fame and money related to acting too much too allow himself continuing to experiment in directing.
Ruha pushed the memories away. As discomfiting it was to have his brain return a load of data every time he thought of anything, he would take it over remembering his past life, particularly the time towards the end.
As expected, the board had five adverts that could fit his skillset – two were related to modelling, and three were audition opportunities for small roles in movies. None of them had much description to it, explaining that he had to sign up to get the script – Ruha decided to audition for all three of the roles. The tentative start dates for the movies were staggered enough that Ruha though his time should not collide at all – not to mention, these were very small extras and should be finished in a day.
Ruha raised his left wrist, then following the image he had seen in his memory, swiped over the part of the silver bracelet pressing on his pulse with his other forefinger. A screen appeared above the device with a few option. Ruha ignored those icons and raised his wrist towards the job board. Next moment a white area with blinking cursor and a writing pad appeared on the job board just before him. Ruha entered the serial numbers of the three adverts he had selected and swiped his wrist over it again.
At this moment he was particularly glad to have the memories of the original host. Otherwise he would have become an illiterate.
The three selected adverts appeared again, this time in seclusion. Ruha waved his wrist before them, waiting for the adverts to flash in confirmation of his signing up.
The device on his wrist was SPIRIT. Acronym for Smart Personal Identity & Rationally Intelligent Technology, this device could have multiple functions based on price range, but the most basic and primary function was to be an identity proof of its owner, and everyone was expected to carry one – the lowest version was available for free from any municipality, which is what Ruha had. From Ruha’s memory, his SPIRIT, which Lephis had given him, seemed to be kind of a smartphone.
Stepping back, Ruha turned around, coming to a sudden pause before a pair of irisless black eyes staring at him.
Ah.
Lephis sported a bipedal form, as Ruha’s memories had told him. However, the similarity to the humanoid shape ended there – the cyborg was of genus Phyn, and Ruha had to force his face to remain placid as his brain continued vomiting more data – Lephis was completely hairless, with small incisions spread all over his exposed body parts that Ruha knew could function similar to electronic ports. He also sported three long tails, with barbed ending that rattled on the floor, elongated ears – three on each side of the head – and long nails, no, claws, feline claws on all his fingers and toes.
He had eight toes. Ruha counted quickly. Four on each foot. And six fingers on each hand – there were four arms, the shoulder area broader than humans to accommodate the extra limbs.
“… feel alright? Ruha?”
And the alien with multiple limbs is talking to me.
No. I am the actual alien right now.
“Lephis.” Ruha smiled slightly, wincing inside as Lephis seemed to still even further at the response.
“I wanted to try acting.” Ruha said. Lephis would have to get used to his new behaviour anyway. “I signed up already.”
“I finished bathing too.” He continued after a pause. “But I forgot to dry myself properly and there is a puddle of water in my room. I could not find the mop.”
“And I couldn’t figure out how to tie my hair.”
There. I still have things that I can not do by myself.
Compared to seeing a child who was completely self-sufficient all of a sudden, any guardian would feel much more comfortable if that said child is still lacking in certain areas, needing guidance. And Ruha did need guidance for a variety of matter, considering his missing memories about his own preferences and feelings – so keeping Lephis assured of his change being naturally staggered and relative was necessary.
Lephis still seemed confused, as much confusion as his expressionless face could convey, but his tails started to move by themselves, as opposed to the previous stillness.
“I will clean your room later. All mops are in storeroom.” The cyborg’s voice was low, with a strange innate gentleness. Ruha understood the words because of his memories, but the unfamiliarity remained, the end of each words seeming to fall on the start of next sound like a spring breaking into waves.
“Keep your hair open, it still needs to dry.”
Ruha followed obediently as Lephis guided him to a fluffy cushion in the sitting area, himself sitting on the couch behind Ruha. He felt the gauze wrapped around his hair being taken off, as several clawed fingers started to caress through the tresses.
Ruha had to fight not to fall asleep as the claws gently scratched over his scalp. The prior exhaustion from assimilating his memories was still there, and with Lephis massaging his head, brushing, he is brushing your unnecessarily long hair, staying awake was getting more difficult with each second.
“When are the auditions?”
Ruha blinked at the questioning, gulping back an yawn. Shuffling through his SPIRIT, he wondered absently if Lephis had noticed him falling asleep and asked the question to keep him awake.
Children should not fall asleep at random, or they could have problem sleeping in bedtime.
“Oh.” Ruha blinked. “One of the auditions is… today, I think? In about… four hours – is this the script…”
Mumbling to himself, he opened the file. It was indeed the script, but…
“Lephis.” Ruha said, still staring at the hovering screen in front of his eyes, “What is the usual length for movies?”
“It varies.” The answer came after a small pause. “The realtime ones, the roleplaying ones, and some others – those can stretch for months and years, often into centuries too.”
What?
“Then there are those of only half an hour to an hour. Your script should tell the time, see the first page.”
“Yes.” Ruha said, wondering what century long movies were like. “It says six hour tentative time limit.”
Lephis hummed. It sounded like a cat’s purr. “That’s not very long.” He said. “The shooting should not be too long.”
What is considered ‘long’ here, exactly?
“I am a small extra, anyway.” Ruha said. “The script says my role estimates to around fifteen to twenty minutes at most.”
“Beginnings are usually small.” Ruha felt a palm patting his now brushed, and dried, well, less wet than before, hair. “Once everyone sees your acting, bigger roles will start coming to you.”
Ruha had to keep himself from laughing. His cyborg carer was really… “I could be a very bad actor.” He teased softly. “May be I won’t even get through the audition.”
“That’s impossible.” Lephis sounded more certain than Ruha had ever heard even his staunchest fans from previous life being regarding his acting abilities. “Anything you do, you are amazing in it.”
Either the original host was really a genius. Ruha thought, feeling a slight burn in his ears and eyes at this unquestioning faith. Or Lephis is one of those parents. The ones who are wrapped around their children’s littlest toe.
Somehow, Ruha thought the second possibility was likelier.
“Well”. He coughed softly. “I will do my best. Erm, this address for the audition, do you know –”
“I will take you there – put on this scarf.” Lephis said, wrapping an embroidered piece of grey-blue clothing that he was wearing himself around Ruha’s neck loosely, pausing next moment like he was unsure of Ruha’s response. “It’s not very far from here, but you haven’t travelled by yourself before, and I –”
“Lephis.” Ruha turned around, cutting the cyborg off mid-stutter. “I really don’t know how to travel by myself.”
He paused for a moment, the room blurring out of focus for a sharp, strangled breath.
Ruha wanted to tell this person, this alien whom he had known for mere minutes, everything.
It would be easy. He thought, feeling too disoriented and yet too rooted in his skin, new skin, stolen skin, to know what he truly wanted at the moment.
One word, and his fate would not have to be in his control.
He could truly let go.
Perhaps he wanted to go back to the state of being dead. To that moment when despite the very literal heart wrenching pain, he had known, with a keen sense of relief that was perhaps companion to all and any endings, that he was not, finally, the one in control, the one responsible, for himself.
Then the room came back in focus, with all its unfamiliarity, and Ruha let out an imperceptible sigh.
“Well”, he turned around with a practised smile, tugging absently at the soft, woven, unfamiliar, fabric wrapped around his throat, not quite meeting Lephis’s eye. “Should we set out now?”
Letting go would be easy, indeed. Yet, being a coward was still easier.
And perhaps, Ruha had to admit, as he followed Lephis out of the lounge, and down to another escalator out in the green stretch, for all the relief death had brought him, it had only made his greed for life higher.
Thank you for reading, and you can read it from my blog, here, if you want to read ahead by 2-3 early chapters. I am also translating I Heard That I am Poor in the same blog, and there are other shorter works as well (like this) so do drop by if you are interested.
You can follow me at @Sphinxdroid.
