Welcome, Distant Traveler
By Andrew Vrana
GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS.
You sure have come a long, long way to get to Onyria—or as we natives like to call it, the cold black rock. Your planet of origin is Earth, right? How exciting! We don’t get too many tourists from Earth here anymore, not since the Sol War ended. Though I suppose you would know nothing about that three-century travesty, would you? You have been traveling for quite a long time.
Anyway, on behalf of all of us here on Onyria I would like to formally welcome you to our home planet. Oh, and don’t bother looking around for me; I’m not here. My voice is coming through the overhead speakers.
I know you are extremely disoriented right now. Don’t worry, this is normal. Your body was preserved in a vat of bio-suspension gel for the duration of your voyage—about 363 Earth years. I should inform you that it’s likely everyone you ever knew or loved died many years ago. But, then, I’m sure you already knew that—you did sign up for the journey knowing full well how painfully slow the ships were back then, didn’t you? Hehe.
Who am I? Well, I’m glad you asked. I will get to that shortly. First, if you would be so kind as to step through the doorway—watch your head ... great. We’ve found that extensive durations in the gel often cause total loss of motor function, but you seem to be just fine. Splendid! Now if you would please proceed down the hallway. There is no need to worry about your nakedness. We find a lack of clothing makes it easier when we clean you out, hehehe. What? Oh, you’ll see.
So, I was saying? Oh yes, I am the designated greeter here at the Offworld Visitor Arrivals Facility. My title is Interstellar Tourist Adjustment and Preparation Personnel; call me ITAPP-37 if you want. I am a non-biological individual—an approximated personality based on one of the long-deceased original colonists of Onyria. No, I’m not alive in the same sense as you, but what is being alive, anyway?
Go on through that door on your right ... thank you. Now, if you will step into the lowered area, over by the hoses. I am afraid this next part will be a bit ... uncomfortable ... for someone with an organic body. But it’s wholly and unquestionably necessary. We have found that if we don’t thoroughly clean all orifices immediately ... well, let’s just say the bio-suspension gel destabilizes very quickly after it leaves the vats. The initial flush probably rid you of all the gel, but we like to be sure. I mean, you don’t want to die in a pool of blood because of massive corrosion in your rectum and esophagus, do you? I thought not, hehe. Now, relax your throat, and be thankful you weren’t the first one to travel here in a gel vat. That guy made quite a mess out in the hallway. Hehe.
You’re doing great so far. You may want to take a deep breath right ... now.
There you go, all done. You may exit back to the hallway and continue as before. No, no, I assure you, our climate in the facility makes clothing unnecessary, and you won’t be going outside. You could, but your watery organic body would freeze immediately. Too bad, because you really have to get out of the facility to fully appreciate Onyria’s famed beauty and subtle intricacies. Not so proud of that body now, are you?
Don’t worry, you will get to see the planet. Just keep on following the hall, take a left at the end—it’s the only way to go, actually. I will scan your body as you walk and make sure none of your internal organs shifted to irregular positions during your time in the gel. Feel free to ask any questions you may have at this time ...
***
Oh, here we are! Look through the windows and you will have a magnificent view of the black rock of Onyria, in all its glory. No, please keep moving; we are on a tight schedule. Just look while you walk. The facility is high up here, so you can really see into the distance—or at least you would if the Kuron Mountains weren’t in the way, hehe. But just look at everything you can see. Isn’t it fantastic? Interesting fact: nearly eighty percent of Onyria’s surface is covered in a silicon dioxide rich mineral that resembles obsidian back on your home world. That’s what makes it black. And when the suns rise—oh you should see it, the rock glowing with every color you can imagine ... it’s simply spectacular. I am afraid you just missed it, though, and it will be another two weeks before the suns rise again. But, hey, at least you didn’t arrive at night.
Now comes the part I truly, sincerely hate. I am afraid your stay here on Onyria has come to an end. Yes, you see, we haven’t had facilities capable of sustaining organic humans for over two centuries. The ship you rode in on will be resuming its cycle in about thirty-six hours after offloading cargo, and you will need to be on it—packed safely in another vat of bio-suspension gel, of course. Rather than sending you on another 363-year trip, though, I took the liberty of arranging for you to be offloaded to New Mars, this system’s other settled planet. There you will be stored in a warehouse for a few years until one of the new, much faster interstellar traders arrives. That vessel will have you back to Earth in about sixty years—at your own expense. Incidentally, I feel like I should warn you: passage on the newer ships is absurdly expensive this far out of the central routes. Hehe.
Here is the elevator. Watch your head again—there you go. You have a twelve-hour elevator ride, followed by twenty hours in a transport back to the ship. I know, I know, you are so hungry and thirsty; that is normal once your body has readjusted to life outside the gel. Unfortunately, we have no food or drinkable water, but you should survive until you are packed into another vat, after which it won’t matter anymore, hehehe.
So, I hope you enjoyed your visit to Onyria. Next time maybe you’ll get to see that famous sunrise.
Goodbye, traveler. 
Andrew Vrana is currently a college student studying emerging media. He began writing when he was getting his first degree. His stories have appeared in a number of publications, including “Bewildering Stories,” “Story Shack,” and “InfectiveINK.”
