Dream Trust Test

By Rei Rosenquist

Coming out really threw a wrench in Jordy and Lyle's relationship. Becoming human refugees in an alien organization called the Anti-Scouts made it worse. Can a simple game set things right? Or will virtual reality make reality worse? Jordy logs in to the Dream Trust Test find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rei Rosenquist
• Release date: Feb 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393935742

Rei Rosenquist

Rei Rosenquist first remembers life as seen out the high window of a hotel balcony. Down below is a courtyard, swarms of brightly dressed tourists, the beach. The memory is nothing but a blue-green washed image. Warmth and sunlight. Here, they are three years old, and this is the beginning of a nomadic story-teller’s life. Over the years, they have traveled to many countries, engaged many peoples, picked up new habits, and learned new languages. But, some things never change. For them, these are stories, food service, and traveling. These three passions have bloomed from hobbies, studies, and jobs into a way of life. These days, Rei can be found in between Tokyo, Kailua, and Bellingham, Washington pouring beautiful latte art, baking off a batch of famous savory scones, and cozying up with a laptop to obsessively write mountains of dark speculative fiction. You can find Rei’s stories and blog at reirosenquist.com. You can also reach them via email at [e-mail] or connect via Facebook (Rei Rosenquist), Twitter (rylrosenquist) and Instagram (rylrosenquist).

Book preview

Chapter 1

Rei Rosenquist

I'm standing in the long soft-white hallway aboard the Anti-Scouts domicile space station when Elyl -- an impressively tall Roragae who is the central mission coordinator for refugee rescue missions within the Anti-Scouts -- stops me with a wave of a multi-elbowed wing-like arm.

I stand frozen, trying not to look shocked, but feeling as awkward as possible. Truth be told, I haven't been an Anti-Scout very long. I'm still adjusting to running into aliens in the hallways, to humans not being the one and only lifeform worth caring for.

Looming closer, Elyl's body is like two people, one sitting atop another's shoulders, with a multi-colored sheet draped over them both. Elyl's face sits in the middle of this sheet on a flat surface I like to think of as a bone-disc. The disc moves around on a neck made of small bones snapped together like a build-a-set machine leg.

Two composite lens-like eyes meet mine, but I know from past experience that none of those thousands of eyes are actually looking at my eyes, but observing every aspect of my personage.

Good of the morn to you, Enby Jordy, Elyl says, their star-shaped lips undulating with each sound wave.

It's not uncommon to be called by a combination of identity and name around the station. For me, Enby, meaning non-binary. Using the self-ascribed terms is a kind of gentle acknowledgement. A new honorific. Another feature of being an Anti-Scout I'm still adjusting to.

I smile and bow in respectful reply, scrambling to remember Elyl's identifier. Ah, there it is.

Morning, Agender Ee lil, I enunciate the name very carefully.

Roragae communication, made up more of chemicals and subtle gestures than words, can be near-impossible for a human to get their head around. Still, I do my damnedest not to butcher the translated sounds of Elyl's name.

Both of their composite eye sockets sparkle at me with a flash of bright green and yellow. That color, I've learned, is Elyl grinning. Slightly mischievous, at that.

I have a mission for you.

I'm not sure I'm ready, I say, eyes falling to my shoes.

The Scouts logo is still legible on the side. A big S with a golden staff. The Scouts are a conquest group. They stand for dominance, oppressing others. A railgun would be a more apt logo.

Around the rim of the logo is printed another grand lie in tiny, hard to read words: We stand to serve printed in only the most prestigious language -- Neo-English. The first and only language a so-called diplomatic Scout speaks.

I’m no different. In all these long months of rehab, I haven’t learned but one or two alien words.

I color, more ashamed than ever. I'm not fully Anti-Scout yet. I don't even feel half-way there.

Still, Elyl gives me a reassuring nod: neck wobbling back to front, and then side to side. The motion itself is confusing, but the sentiment is clear. Elyl understands how I feel. They understand most species better than any human ever could. If the Anti-Scouts were made up exclusively of Roragae, it'd be a much stronger operation. We humans do our best, but we tend to carry damage around on our shoulders like heavy crates. Other species don't suffer quite as much.

And yet, despite this evolutionary burden, Elyl never gives up on us. They still give important tasks to the human refugees -- people like me.

I am confident in the mission selected for you. Not to worry. It is still digital.

I breathe out, relieved. Digital missions are Anti-Scouts learning mode.

Will you bite at it? Elyl asks, composite neck retracting. The equivalent of a human head cocked. Inquisitive, Elyl waits.

I frown. The question confusing my ears.

The Roragae aren't native speakers of any of the Common Languages certified by the Universal Council of Living Beings, (UCLBe be for short). They speak through chemicals and brainwaves, through emotions and colors and bone gestures. Elyl and a handful of other Roragae have learned hundreds of new languages just to talk to the refugees. Can't fault them for not being extremely strong in any one of them.

Will you take on? Elyl tries again.

I smile now, understanding. I would be honored. What's the mission?

A dream trust test.

Dream trust test? I ask, struggling to get the words out. I haven't ever heard those words put together in quite that way before.

"When you