Chosen for the unknown
I clenched my fists against the cold metal of the armrests as the voice from the speaker echoed through the room.
“Do not be alarmed. This is simply a preliminary evaluation to determine your compatibility with the project.”
Compatibility? My mind screamed in protest. This was no evaluation; it felt more like an interrogation masked in cold professionalism.
“What do you mean by compatibility?” I forced out, trying to keep my voice steady.
The voice ignored my question entirely, continuing in its detached tone. “Your field of study is linguistics, correct?”
“Yes,” I replied cautiously.
“Good. You will find your expertise invaluable for the task ahead. Answer the following questions truthfully. Any falsehoods will be detected and punished accordingly.”
Punished? My breath hitched, but I nodded.
The questions started innocuously. They asked about my academic background, my work experience, and my linguistic specialties. At first, it felt like a twisted job interview. But then, the questions took a strange turn.
“Have you ever been exposed to extraterrestrial languages?”
My heart skipped a beat. “What? No, of course not.”
A pause. The voice didn’t seem satisfied with my answer.
“You are certain?”
“Yes! That’s not exactly something I’ve come across in my studies.”
Another pause. My pulse thudded in my ears as I wondered if this was some kind of trick. Then, a low hum filled the room, and a holographic display lit up in front of me, projecting a series of unfamiliar symbols.
“Translate these,” the voice commanded.
“What?” I blinked at the symbols, their sharp, intricate designs unlike anything I’d ever seen before. “I don’t even recognize this script. How am I supposed to translate it?”
“Attempt.”
I stared at the symbols, the sharp lines and geometric patterns almost hypnotic. Something about them felt... strange, as if they were both foreign and familiar at the same time.
“I can’t,” I finally admitted.
The hum in the room grew louder, and my chair jolted slightly, as if reacting to my failure.
“You must try again,” the voice insisted, more forcefully this time.
My breath quickened. Was this some sort of psychological test? A punishment for not complying? My eyes darted back to the symbols, and I focused harder, searching for any patterns or meaning.
“Is this some kind of ancient script? Or is it a constructed language? Give me a hint, and maybe I can—”
“Focus, Carmem.”
The sharpness in the voice made me flinch. I gritted my teeth and tried again, but nothing made sense.
Finally, the hologram disappeared, and the voice spoke again, this time colder. “Inadequate. Your skills require further refinement.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice rising with frustration. “What do you even want from me?”
There was no answer. Instead, Theresa stepped forward, her shadow looming over me. She pressed a button on the table, and the restraints on my wrists clicked open.
“Get up,” she ordered.
“What was that? What are you testing me for?” I demanded as I rose unsteadily.
Theresa didn’t respond. She grabbed my arm and led me back toward the corridor. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting.
When we returned to the cafeteria, I was ushered back to my seat. Kat, Melanie, and Theresa were watching me intently.
“What happened?” Kat asked immediately, leaning closer.
“They... tested me,” I whispered, glancing nervously at Theresa, who stood nearby with her arms crossed.
“Tested you how?” Melanie asked, her eyes narrowing.
I hesitated. “They asked questions, showed me symbols—things I couldn’t understand. They called it an evaluation, but... I don’t know what it was.”
Kat’s jaw tightened. “This is insane. They’re treating us like lab rats.”
I nodded slowly, my thoughts still tangled. The mention of extraterrestrial languages, the strange symbols—they didn’t fit with anything I understood. And yet, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much larger.