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Here’s a funny joke for you; two men in dark suits walk into a bar, where Colt Seavers is busy sitting at the counter, doing nothing while staring at the giant holoscreen diffusing today’s echo-football game (their team is losing, by the way).
The two men in dark suits take him to the back alley behind the bar, pushing his wheelchair out while he trashes and yells. Nobody does anything, they just stare at the crazy guy in a wheelchair currently getting abducted by wannabes Men in Black.
The bartender sweeps the couple of empty glasses Colt had been drowning in into the sink and yells at him to come back to pay his bill, if he’s still alive after that.
If you are expecting a punchline, there is none. This isn’t a joke, and it isn’t funny when they inform him that his brother has died 5 light years away on an alien planet. Erid.
Well, there is some sort of sick humor in what they tell him next.
“Your brother represented a significant investment, and we’d like you to take over his contract. Your genome being identical, you could step into his shoes. Literally.”
They hand him a clipboard with a pen. In big bold letters at the top he reads “Avatar Programm”.
“He’s dead,” Colt dumbly repeats.
He wasn’t even aware Ryland had left this planet.
“How did he die?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself over the gritty details. The grief must be horrible enough,” one of the agents says, not a single muscle of his big fat face moving to emulate empathy.
“We’re offering you a fresh start. To do something that matters,” the other insists. He taps the bottom of the paper, on the line dedicated to Colt’s signature. “And the pay. It’s generous, very generous.”
Colt’s accident replays in his head, tuning out all other sounds. He lives alone in the tiniest apartment that his settlement is able to cover. He doesn’t even have a dog.
He grabs the pen.
—
Five years later, Colt wakes up from his induced coma. He doesn’t feel tired, or particularly rested. One second he is being loaded into his pod, and the next he simply wakes up in zero gravity.
He can see Erid from the tiny viewport of the ship. It’s beautiful, more green than blue. They have passed its rings. It’s very beautiful. It’s no wonder Ryland would’ve wanted to go there. He always had his head in the clouds.
The ship vibrates violently as it makes its descent through Erid’s atmosphere. He’s been told the air there is unbreathable to humans. That is why the Avatar programm was created. To better understand its inhabitants, the Eridians. They are tall, blue, and aggressive.
They haven’t told him much about Ryland’s death, only that he had gone out to collect samples in his human body one day, and had never came back, leaving the empty shell of his avatar without a driver.
They take Colt to it. Its large, lanky body floats in embryonic fluid. Colt flinches as it twitches in the water. He had imagined them like robots, inactive and motionless when resting, only coming online upon being plugged.
The reality of it makes him feel a lot more uneasy.
This is a living organism made out of biological matter. Made out of his and Ryland’s genes.
The avatar turns slightly towards him, its big eyes shut. Colt’s heart squeezes upon seeing his brother’s face. Colt stares at it for too long, the uncanny feeling of seeing this not-quite-Ryland makes him want to puke.
“It’s pretty incredible, isn’t it?” Ilyukhina, another driver says from her station. She had been the one to fetch Colt and bring him here to meet all of his new colleagues. A bunch of nerds in lab coats. Ryland would’ve fitted right in. Him, a lot less.
“It’s fucking weird,” he replied, coming over to her.
She laughs. “You get used to it. You’ll see.”
“I feel like I’m about to crawl into my dead twin’s body. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
Their conversation gets interrupted when a woman of great importance walks in the room. Colt knows she’s of great importance because the room falls completely silent and everybody’s head whips towards her as she makes her way through. She’s holding two large cups of coffee in her hands, and Colt realizes she’s coming right at him.
“You must be Colt,” she says, a slight accent can be heard in her voice. She looks him up and down, then her eyes go to the avatar behind him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he stretches his hand to shake hers, but she doesn’t put down her coffee, only stares at him.
“I needed a scientist. Your brother has left a very big hole in our research. And instead of sending me someone qualified, they sent me a handicapped stuntman.”
“Damn,” Ilyukhina whispers.
“Well I’m what you have, lady,” Colt replies. “Your boss wanted to make good on his investment, so here I am.”
“Let’s hope Grace didn’t die for nothing,” she says with a sense of finality, and heads toward her desk, where Colt realizes both coffees are for her as she sets them down.
He turns towards Ilyukhina, asking her what’s this lady’s problem.
“She’s like that sometimes. I don’t think she’s mad at you. She’s mad about the whole situation. Grace was kind of her unofficial right hand. They were close.”
Grace, Colt thinks. Ryland had changed his last name to their mother’s. Following a pretty rough argument they had after Colt’s accident, Ryland had stormed out of his apartment.
He had tried to call Colt a few times after that. Colt couldn’t bring himself to answer. Out of pride or out of anger, he didn’t know. The calls and texts became few and far between, until a month passed without anything. Then a year. Then five years. Ten years, now.
It had been five years since Ryland had died, but to Colt it felt like yesterday. It was yesterday. He rolled back to the tub, zoning out on the avatar’s face. He felt his lower lip quiver, tears blurring his vision.
Come on, Colt. Be a man. Be the man they sent you here to be. People here have to keep on going, this is their job. And now it’s his.
Someone to his left clears their throat. A tall and large man smiles at Colt. He pulls a chair and sits next to him, also looking in the tub. He’s not wearing a lab coat, rather wearing a security guard’s uniform.
“Hey man. My name’s Carl.”
Colt blinks a few times to keep his tears back, leaning forward to shake Carl’s hand.
“I’m Colt. Ryland’s brother.”
He feels dumb for saying it, but Carl keeps on smiling at him.
“I know. I’m sorry about your loss. Grace was a good friend.”
Colt can feel the tightness in his chest and his throat returning, cutting his breath short. He can’t quite find the strength to answer. Carl has been the first to tell him that, to acknowledge Ryland’s death as anything else than a corporate loss. It’s easy to pretend that Ryland is still on Earth, that they had switched places somehow, but this sets reality in place. Ryland was here, he had friends, and lived here. And now he has died here.
Carl’s hand squeezes his shoulder, understanding.
“Waking up from the coma made me feel really weird for the first couple of days. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”
Colt nods, looking once last time at his brother’s avatar before following Carl out of the room.
He leads him through the facility, showing him all the important spots. Cafeteria, control room, gym.
“You were a stuntman, right?” Carl asks, putting his hands in his pockets as they walk along the hallways. Large windows show the surroundings. Colt is a bit disappointed with the view: machines, dirt, sand, grey digging sites. He had expected to be surrounded by Erid’s exotic, dangerous jungle. What surrounds them is closer to Earth’s desolate state. He’ll get to explore the forest soon enough, he tells himself. His first expedition is due tomorrow morning.
“I was, yeah, back when movies used practical effects. Now everything is CGI’d 4D bullshit.”
“We still have a lot of old movies here. Temporarily, we're at least ten years behind Earth, tech-wise. I’m sure we could find something you’re in,” Carl mentions.
Colt shakes his head, a bitter taste coating his tongue. “I’d rather not.”
“Oh, yeah. No, I get it… alright, this is you.”
They stop in front of a metal door with the words “R.Grace” slotted into a digital display. Of course they gave him Ryland’s room. They didn’t even bother to change it.
Colt sighs as he sees the small step elevating the door from the ground.
“You scan your key right here, it locks automatically whenever the door is closed. There is a small washroom and kitchen, but we’re encouraged to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, to keep morale up, and— oh,” Carl lets out as he finally notices the issue at hand.
“You would mind lifting me, just a bit?” Colt groans as he places himself in the right angle, lifting the front half of his wheelchair. Carl helps him get all the way up, and Colt lands roughly on the other side because of the floor sinking back in.
“I’ll have them add a ramp as soon as possible. This is incredibly unprofessional, I apologize.”
“It’s fine,” Colt sighs. But no, it isn’t fine. “Thanks, Carl, I’ll see you around.”
He shuts the door and breathes in deeply. The room is small, the bed looks thin and it's mounted to the wall. Thankfully it isn’t too high and Colt believes he’ll be able to heave himself up on it.
He looks around, looking for… something. Remnants of Ryland. Perhaps some leftover belongings of his. But no, the room is completely bare.
There is a window looking out, but the view is still the same boring one.
It beats Earth though. The sky is bright and blue. He can see the canopies of large trees from afar.
He can’t help the thrill of apprehension coursing through his body at the thought of exploring the jungle. Of seeing all sorts of weird alien life.
He takes a deep breath, and for the first time since his accident, Colt is looking forward to tomorrow.
—
Colt’s body sinks in the weird silicone casing of the pod. It takes his shape, holding him softly. It sort of feels like memory foam.
Carl lowers a metal frame over his chest. Tiny sensors probe out from it.
“It feels like him getting an MRI,” he jokes.
Stratt, the woman from yesterday who turns out is in charge of the entire scientific and research department and pretty famous in her field, looks at him, unimpressed.
Several scientists are watching him. He’s met a couple more of his team. There’s Dubois, a biologist, Shapiro, also a biologist, and Yao, who’s the lead team researcher.
Colt realizes that every single person in the avatar program is a scientist of some sort. He’ll stick out like a sore-thumb, for sure.
“You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” he says, panic seizing his chest. He lifts his head but Stratt pushes it back down on the foam.
“Stay calm. If you go into this panicked, you will wake up disoriented and aggressive. You could hurt yourself and others,” Stratt orders.
“You got this, Colt,” Carl offers him a supportive smile, but there is a tightness in his eyes betraying his uncertainty.
“You’ll see, it feels pretty strange at first but then you’ll feel your limbs,” adds Ilyukhina, which means absolutely nothing and only makes Colt more nervous.
He’s been avoiding thinking about limbs, actually.
He’s aware, theoretically, that he won’t be paralyzed in the avatar’s body. He can’t manage to wrap his head around it, it feels so unreal.
His heart beats so hard in his chest that they must all be able to hear it.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” Stratt says, standing over him as she closes the lid of his coffin. “Good luck, Grace.”
He opens his mouth to correct her, that Grace isn’t his name, but the lid shuts with a small hiss. His heart tightens in his chest.
As instructed, Colt closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. A whirring, mechanical sound rises as the pod sinks into the link room, and then bright light burns his retinas.
Colt groans, sounds and consciousness coming back to him. Did it not work?
Something snaps on both sides of his ears. He flinches, blinking through the light. “Pin ear response normal.”
“Colt? Can you hear me, Colt?” Someone says. Their voice is far away, echoing in a clinical way.
Colt isn’t convinced by what he is seeing. Two people, wearing transparent breathing masks stand over him. One of them is pointing a flashlight right in his eye.
Colt feels… weird. It’s a feeling he doesn’t have the means to describe. He lifts his hands, his heart jumping when he sees two very blue arms follow his motion.
“What the fuuuuuck.”
“Welcome to your new body. How do you feel?” The second asks him.
“I’m in the avatar?”
“You’re in the avatar,” one confirms with a laugh.
Colt pushes on his forearm, sitting up. He towers over the room.
His leg twitches, which immediately gets his attention. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. He wiggles his toes, laughing when they actually do move. His chest bubbles with warmth and joy. He flexes his calves, his thighs. Strong, lean muscles answer the synapses of his brain.
This is the best thing that has ever happened to him.
“Do you feel any numbness, or pain?” The doctor asks, checking him over.
Colt isn’t listening because he’s just discovered his tail. He can feel it, protruding from his spine. He makes it sway, in awe.
The other doctor tries to grab his hand, and Colt involuntarily whacks him with the tip of his tail.
“Shit- sorry man,” he says absentmindedly.
“That’s alright, just try to stay put. There’s still a few sensory-motor-skill tests we need to run.”
Colt stares at his feet. He feels… whole. Like something has clicked back into place. The stars have realigned. He swings his legs, feeling the cold linoleum floor under his feet.
“Wow.”
He can hear the doctors trying to get him back on the bed. Adrenaline drowns out their voices. Colt stands, at their disarray. He laughs in disbelief, losing balance and slamming his hand into the window. He looks up and catches his own eye.
“I am so blue,” he breathes. He traces his features with his hand, looking at himself through the glass.
“You need to sit down, Colt,” Carl’s voice says through the speakers. “It isn’t safe yet. You’re not used to your body.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Colt brushes him off. He pushes off the wall. He’s wearing a medical robe.
He looks at his arms again, taking in the texture, the hue, the stripes and barely-there white freckles. This is a high he has never reached before.
He spins around, taking in the room.
Another avatar is sitting on the bed next to him. This guy’s following the doctor’s directives, touching the tips of his fingers together.
Lame, Colt thinks, and makes for the door.
Someone tries to grab him by the tail, but he swats them away.
Faintly, he hears everyone yelling at him to come back. Colt follows the hallway, and pushes the last door open.
The light changes from white and clinical to warm, and outside. He blinks a few times, getting used to the outside light. Green surrounds him. Grass under his feet, fresh air on his skin.
There’s a basketball court in front of him, where two avatars - two people, his brain corrects - are playing. He stumbles through it, blood rushing in his ears.
He gains speed, running towards the fitness course ahead of him. Each strike of his feet on the soil takes him higher, further. He feels his muscles tighten and contract, his stride large and powerful.
Colt laughs, exhilarated. He feels alive, he feels like back on Earth, when he would perform a stunt perfectly. He looks up, a huge sun shining bright in his eyes.
He runs through unfamiliar plants, before coming to a stop.
He sinks his toes into the dirt, catching his breath. He barely feels winded. Colt closes his eyes, tilting his head up. The sun warms his face. What a place, he thinks.
“Well, you’re taking to it faster than your brother did,” says Stratt. He turns to look at her, and sees a bluer version of her. He can still recognize her features, despite the few alien bits. She’s actually smiling, a satisfied look on her face.
Perhaps Colt has exceeded her expectations. She tosses him something.
“Am I?” He asks, catching the fruit.
“Reflexes are good,” Stratt says instead of answering him, walking closer.
Colt looks down at what she threw at him. It’s soft and purple. His brain immediately supplies him with the instinct to eat it.
He bites into it, sharp canines ripping easily through the ripe flesh. The taste is unlike anything he’s ever had.
“Wow,” is all he manages to say.
“How does it feel?”
Colt looks around. He’s overwhelmed by the amount of activity and life. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times.
“I’m not surprised that Ryland chose to come here. I bet he loved this place. He was always… always dreaming about a place like this.”
Stratt says nothing, a shadow crossing over her face. “Erid is dangerous. Out there, everything is out to get you and if you’re not careful, if you slip even once, you’re dead.”
Colt looks down at his feet.
“Is that what happened to him?”
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Stratt replies, turning around and heading for the nearby cabin.
Colt isn’t sure how to feel about her avoiding his questions. The conditions of Ryland’s death have been vague if not voluntarily obscured every time he’s asked. He isn’t even sure if there’s a body, or if it got eaten by an Eridian bear.
Colt takes the time to look at his arms. The skin is smooth, poreless and hairless, but it isn’t free of blemishes. There are darker blue spots, little and bigger scars testifying that this body has been lived in. That it has bled and healed. Colt runs his fingers over a particular nasty burn situated before the crook of his elbow. It looks like a handprint, with four fingers.
Grief seizes him by the throat, and all of the excitement and exhilaration he’s feeling disappears in an instant. A pit form in his stomach.
“Ryland,” he chokes out. “Fuck, Ry.”
His hands start to shake, then his whole body. His knees give out and he falls in the soft dirt.
Stratt turns around, asks him what is wrong, if his body is experiencing issues.
Colt wants out, out, immediately. His skin itches. It feels too tight around him, caging him in. This isn’t his body, he doesn’t belong in here.
He curses God, he curses the people who’ve put him in there, but most of all he curses himself for accepting. For hoping.
Colt wraps his arms around his body, hot tears running down his cheeks. He can feel the tip of his large ears pinned against his head. His vision stays clear, his eyes are big and round.
He feels hand wrap around his bicep, pulling him up.
“Get up, let’s get you settled,” Stratt says, her voice softer than he’s heard it be so far.
Colt chokes on a sob, paralyzed. This body has rejected him, and fairly so.
“No, no. Leave me alone. I want to leave, I want to leave,” he begs, clinging to her but not quite able to stand.
Stratt kneels down next to him, pulling his weight on her.
“Alright. Breathe, you need to calm yourself. Breathe with me.”
Her chest rises and falls with exaggeration, and Colt follows it. He closes his eyes shut, breathing through his nose.
Time passes, Colt isn’t sure how long. Eventually, he regains some control over his emotions.
He would hold Ryland when they were kids, exactly like this, when his brother was panicking. It would happen from time to time, because of anxiety. And now it was happening to Colt.
He feels something pull, something at the back of his mind. Colt feels himself fading, his muscles all giving out beneath him.
He wakes up as the lid of the pod hisses open. Carl is there, a look of pity on his face. He helps Colt sit up, offers him a paper cup of water, leaving his hand on Colt’s shoulder.
Colt’s face is wet, and he wipes the tears away with his sleeve, avoiding everyone looking at him. He shrugs Carl’s hand off his shoulder.
“I’m not Ryland. I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
Dubois looks at his colleagues, before leaning down next to the pod to talk face-to-face with Colt.
“During Grace’s first link, he passed out. The second time, he also passed out. It took him three tries to finally stick to it. He kept saying that he couldn’t do it, that it was impossible. But when he finally succeeded, it was like he was meant to be in that body. Seriously.”
“No kidding,” Shapiro adds. “I think he spent more time in the avatar than he did his body in the entire time he was there. Stratt had to force him to eat and sleep. As a human, I mean. You had to rip him from the pod.”
“You know who you are,” Carl says to him. “Don’t lose yourself in it.”
Colt nods. It's strange, hearing about his brother from people who, decidedly, knew him better than Colt has in the past decade. It hurts as much as it’s endearing.
“Take the time to rest, we’ll try again later,” Yao tells him, rolling his wheelchair closer.
—
The second time Colt links, it goes a bit more smoothly. They’ve moved his body in the cabin in which all avatars sleep when they’re not in use, where staff tends to them. He manages to deal with the creeping sensation of being a body-robber.
“We try not to spend more than 8 hours in the avatar. It can be dangerous for the nervous system, and your sense of identity,” Dubois explains to him as they play cards, practicing finer motor skills.
“My identity?”
“The lines between real and fake can blur, sometimes. Some people have trouble coming back smoothly to their human body. That's what the training is for, but since you don’t have any, we’ll have to be more careful. Draw.”
“Isn’t this real? Am I not in a real body?” Colt asks.
“Depends what you mean by real,” Ilyukhina supplies. “Avatar is made from scratch, mixing human and Eridian DNA. It’s like… fake sugar, you know? It still taste sweet, but is not the real thing.”
Colt hums, drawing a card. He’s like the stevia of artificially made bodies.
“Being in this body can feel like a dream. You can’t sleep in it, if you fall asleep you wake up in your human body, so the transition can be hard,” Dubois adds.
Colt looks up to see Yao staring at him. It seems like he has been for a while.
“Sorry, Colt. It’s just… strange. We never thought we would see Grace’s face again.”
Dubois stops mid-motion, his card hanging in the air. “Grace never told us he had a twin. It was a real shock to learn he had a twin brother back on Earth, and that they were sending him here.”
Colt looks down at this card.
Ryland had never mentioned him.
He deserves it, somewhat. He was the first to shut the other out. Perhaps if he hadn’t, if they had made up, Ryland wouldn't have left, and maybe he would still be alive by now.
Colt swallows hard. No, he can’t go down that path. He can’t start to blame himself for what happened to Ryland.
“Talk about money-hungry assholes,” Ilyukhina groans. “They couldn’t let Grace die, they had to “make good on their investment”… sorry Colt, is nothing against you. We are very happy you are here.”
Colt smiles and drops his card. The table groans in defeat, and he takes the pile.
“I’m glad to see that he was in such good company. For scientists, you guys aren’t so bad.”
They laugh a bit before packing. “It’s time to leave soon.”
Colt perks up at that. He’s been wondering about the rest of Erid. It’s flora and fauna. It’s perhaps the one thing he’s been looking forward to.
“Let’s get to it.”
—
Erid’s forests are well documented, many documentaries and online galleries available for viewing, but they could never do justice to the real thing.
Colt is constantly amazed, by every plant, by every little critter he can see. The place is crawling with life and color. The forest itself is alive, reacting to every step he takes.
“Stay close,” Stratt tells him. Colt tightens the straps of his backpack and falls into formation.
“And stay focused,” she adds when he keeps looking around, taking it all in. “This is the furthest we’ve gone into Eridian territory. It’s unsafe.”
This is better than he could’ve ever imagined. Despite being on an alien planet, Colt feels quite at home.
Eventually, they find a good spot to take samples from. Stratt and Yao kneel down near a surface root of a tree. They start to talk about connectivity while Colt wanders off.
He hasn’t seen anything dangerous, as of yet. He’s seen flying things, crawling things, climbing things, but no teeth-and-claws-things yet.
He catches a sound, his ears perking up to better hear. It sounds like water. He follows the sound, pushing through ferns and coral-like plants, before emerging on the bank of a small river.
The water is clear.
Colt swallows. He bends down and cups his hands together to scoop water and bring it to his mouth.
It’s so cold that it hurts his teeth, but it feels so good. It tastes like plants.
He takes another sip, and throws some on the back of his neck to relieve some of the heat.
Motion catches his attention. On the other side of the river, a couple of meters down, is an animal. Which one, Colt has no idea. It has four membranes on the side of its head. They are flared towards Colt. It reminds him of one of the dinosaurs in that old movie.
He straightens up, and the animal hisses.
It’s definitely a teeth-and-claw thing.
He stumbles back, scrambling to get to his feet while the animal crosses the river, stalking him. He takes on a run, trying to find the others.
He can hear them calling for his name, but he can’t manage to tell from where. Colt runs and runs, aware of the creature pursuing him. He can hear it closing the distance between them.
Colt has a knife in his pocket, but thoughts aren’t forming at all in his brain. He’s in survival mode, adrenaline pushing his body forward. He runs, longer and faster than any human ever could. He jumps over roots and branches, just avoiding the jaw of the predator nipping at his feet.
A large tree looms over him, rocks framing it from the side. There is no escape. He dives into the roots of the tree. Thankfully, the predator is too large to fit in the gaps. It trashes and hisses, trying to get a good bite out of Colt.
Colt screams and screams, hoping his team will be able to find him before he turns into alien chow. He kicks, aiming for the face of the animal and accidentally breaking a thin root. It’s big enough for the beast to slither in.
Colt’s life flashes before his eyes, and he braces himself, arms raised.
Nothing comes. It’s silent. He cracks one eye open, and is met with the laying body of the predator. Sticking out of its back, is an arrow. A giant arrow.
Oh no. Oh fuck.
Two feet appear, and they drag the body out from the roots. Then, blue hands reach inside. Colt hisses (that’s new) and thrashes as they pull him out as well.
He ends up on his stomach, gripping the roots and kicking. Then, they grab his long braid, pulling his head back. A knife finds its way to his throat.
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!”
They make him turn around, still holding his braid.
Colt is met with an Eridian, a real one. His face is contracted in aggression, bearing his canines.
He holds his hands up in surrender, holding his breath.
The Eridian stares at him for a few moments before his face falls. The movements of his eyes become frantic, going over Colt’s face as if trying to find something.
Colt says nothing, does nothing. Perhaps that will save his life.
The Eridian throws him on the ground again, and grabs his arm. He pushes Colt’s sleeve up, gasping when he sees the large burn scar on his forearm.
A look of recognition dawns on his face.
Oh no.
“Oh, I’m not… I’m not him. I know I look like him, but I’m not.”
He doesn’t even know if this Eridian speaks English. From his lack of a reaction, probably not.
He pulls Colt to his feet and grabs the base of his braid, pulling him in a direction.
“Okay, man, relax. I’m sorry if I ended up on your territory, or something. But you have to let me go. My team is looking for me, as we speak. They’ll find me.”
The Eridian lets nothing slip and continues to push Colt towards a certain direction.
His first day out, and he’s already dead.
He wonders if he dies in his human body as well, if he dies in this one. That would be pretty bad luck.
The Eridian makes him walk until the sun goes down and the moons rises. He makes Colt walk across narrow branches and paths, until finally they arrive at the base of the biggest three Colt has ever seen.
He immediately knows what it is, and a shiver of fear runs through him. They told him about it.
He’s been taken to the local Eridian village. This specific one has been particularly aggressive towards humans following an incident in the school that was built for them to connect with humans and avatars.
A crowd forms around them as he paraded deeper into the village. They all seem so impressed, or shocked to see him. Some reach out to touch him.
The Eridian holding him speaks to another one, who then takes off. To do what, Colt has no idea. He gets pushed to his knees, landing roughly.
The Eridian keeps hold of his braid, a tight circle now formed around them. Once again, there is no escape.
He rubs his arm, on the burn spot. There is a ripple through the crowd, yips and yelps ringing out as something - or someone - makes their way over.
Colt is expecting the leader of this village, he’s seen pictures of them around the lab. He does see them emerging from the crowd, a proud blue headdress set on their head. They salute the Eridian who’s abducted Colt.
Their eyes widen when they set on Colt, and they reach out, touching his face with the tips of their fingers. Their brows are furrowed.
The crowd parts a second time, and Colt jolts as he sees a human shape standing out in the sea of blue.
The man comes closer, coming up behind the leader. His mouth falls open as he takes in Colt, surprise and shock taking over his features.
Colt’s whole world starts to spin as he stares into his own face. His stomach drops low, a burning, prickling feeling running across his shoulders.
“Ryland-” he breathes.
His brother’s face twists with something ugly, and he pulls out a large knife from the satchel at his side. He strides up to Colt and pressed the sharp side of the knife against his throat.
“Who are you?! Why have they put you in this body?” Ryland spits.
His hair is long. He’s dressed like the Eridians. Most importantly, he’s not wearing a mask. He seems to be able to comfortably breathe in this atmosphere. This barely registers to Colt, who’s too taken by the fact that his twin is still alive. Alive.
“Ryland,” Colt chokes out, sagging forward. His eyes start to burn, tears forming. “Ry, it’s me. Please, you have to believe me.”
His brother’s brows relax, and his eyes widen. His chest heaves as realization kicks in. He doesn’t drop the knife, but he puts some space between it and Colt’s throat.
Ryland shakes his head, looking up to the Eridian holding Colt. He says something in a language Colt doesn’t speak, and the Eridian answers in kind.
“It’s not possible… you’re not— it’s impossible.”
Colt swallows, finding it hard to choose the right words. The right memory.
“We had a fight, before you left, I think. I had just gotten out of the hospital. You came to visit me. It told you off, told you that I didn't want you in my life anymore.”
Ryland’s mouth parts, and he drops the knife on the ground. Colt is let of go, and he slumps on all four before Ryland. Tears drop on the ground.
“They told me you were dead,” he whispers. He stares at Ryland’s bare feet. “They told me you died out there.”
Ryland kneels. He looks so tiny, compared to Colt. He puts his hand on Colt’s.
“Colt- what are you doing here?”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of it. During our fight. I was hurt— I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Ryland says nothing, but he squeezes Colt’s hand. He finally looks up, and sees Ryland’s eyes, red and wet. His lower lip is quivering. He’s shaved his beard.
“Neither was I… I… I was unsure about signing the contract. I wanted to ask you about it.”
“My god,” Colt sobs, and he can’t help himself and pulls Ryland into his arms.
He held his face, looking him over. “They told me you died.”
“I defected,” Ryland corrects.
Colt laughs. Of course. Of course.
“I’m sorry for taking your body,” he says, dumbly.
Ryland laughs in turn. “How long have you been on Erid?”
“Like, two days.”
Ryland lets out a short bark of laugh, shaking his head. He brings Colt in an embrace.
“I don’t need it, anymore. It’s yours, Colt.”
“How are you alive?” Colt breathes.
Ryland makes a face.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Colt replies.
Ryland stands, pulling Colt with him.
“Come with me.”
And Colt goes.