The Social Experiment

Next morning, Michael did not have to wait for too long in front of the USV gates, before he saw Angela approaching him on her scootie. She stopped the pink bike right in front of him and took off her pink helmet.

Angela smiled kindly at Michael. "Downtown Cricolithis is hours by foot. We will have to ride there and this is all I have." She tipped her head towards her scootie.

Michael nodded, trying his best to hide his amusement. "I hope your other helmet is in pink too because that is my favorite color."

Angela giggled and Michael could feel the vibration of his tablet hidden in his man purse. "Sorry to disappoint you." Angela pointed to a purple helmet hanging at the back of her scootie. "Will that do?"

Michael untied the helmet and put it over his head. "Not much of a fashion statement. But it will shield my head."

Michael sat on the back of the scootie, his hands feather light on Angela, and they drove away from the USV building.

For the first half an hour, it was broad relatively empty road, line by what seemed like trees, indigenous to the colony of Cricolithis. They were average size, with rounded smooth white trunks and covered with lush purple leaves, at a strict interval of about ten feets. Sky looked like a clear normal Cricolithis sky, with a yellow celestial body shining brightly. It reminded Michael of a day on earth, except the sky here was creamy instead of blue. There were no birds chirping, sitting on the branches. Instead, the two passed by three to four swarms of bees on their way.

"There are lots of bees in here." Michael shouted into Angela's ears.

"Yes." Angela hollered back, over the rumble of her bike. "All genetically engineered for the flora here."

The scootie sailed along the smooth paved empty road, and Michael realize he felt little wind on his face. From a distance, he could see the downtown Cricolithis approaching. The tall buildings looked like mushrooms covered by round, reflecting ceilings. As they got closer, he saw the people of downtown Cricolithis, all prim and proper, dressed as if the entire town was a costume party, with their frills and hats and overdone make ups.

In the distance, an enormous hanging bridge led out of the town, over what looked like a river. The city itself looked like any other that Michael had seen on earth, except every small and large building with covered by solar panels, the round mushroom like ceiling that he had noticed from the distance. There was little green and strangely, the humans were the only organisms that he could find. The shops and restaurants seemed moderately crowded, and the people looked happier than the usual folks of a big city. The roads ran straight as an arrow, intersecting each other at exactly the same intervals, with no trace of litter on the streets.

Angela stopped her scootie in front of a busy restaurant that said Mioki's Steakhouse.

"Ah, haven't been to a Japanese steakhouse in a long time." Michael looked up at the sign while Angela parked her scootie.

"It is one of the best in town. Be ready for all the Cricolithian knife skills."

Michael bobbed his head slowly. He could already sniff the aroma of delicious Japanese cuisine wafting out of the steakhouse. The inside of the restaurant seemed more crowded than some of the other places Michael saw in passing. The usual buzz of happy and excited customers filled the air. The two were lucky to find a seat right away.

"Sushi?" Angela gestured at the revolving bar.

Michael turned down his lips. "I am not sure." Just then, he felt a vibration again. Having not checked the tablet in a while, he whipped it out and found the message.

Michael knitted his brows. "Actually, you know what? Sure. Let us go for Sushi." He said, still gazing at the screen of the tablet and felt the tablet vibrate in his hand again, this time with a new message.

"Um, okay." Angela offered a quick reply and both of them decided to try the different kinds of sushi revolving in front of them. Maki, uramaki, sashimi, dragon roll were the few that Michael recognized.

Soon, they witnessed the knife skills of a chef that looked Asian to Michael. But, in this intergalactic world, he was not sure where the man came from or if the word Asia even existed.

"How long did you live on earth?" Angela looked at Michael curiously, a piece of chicken held between her chopsticks.

Michael studied the large griddle in the middle of their table where the chef was cooking his shrimp. "Long enough to have made friends there."

"Do you miss them?"

Michael nodded slowly. The chef transferred the cooked shrimp to his and Angela's plate.

"I understand. I was on a mission to Starmark 9813 for almost a year, and that was fiver years ago. And I still miss the few people I met there, especially a lady who thought I was her daughter."

"Oh."

Angela gave him a rueful grin. "Yes, lived there as that family's daughter for a year. They were the system shells. But it felt very real."

Michael turned towards Angela with a sharp look. "Shells?"

Angela moved her head up and down. "Uh huh. Our hosts, when we are on mission. You must know."

"I do." Michael looked thoughtfully at his plate full of shrimp and suddenly remembered he was mildly allergic to shrimp. But, he then remembered his social skills stats and picked up one of the shrimps any way. "But I am still not sure how they work. Do they even know they are shells? What kind of shells are they? Are they just nuts and bolts or a product of bioengineering or real people with their memories washed away?"

Angela gave a long sigh. "I am a researcher, and I admit even I do not know much about the shells. But I can attest that they bleed when you cut them."

Michael looked at her curiously, when there was a commotion behind him, followed by a familiar buzzing of a portal. He turned and found General Heron appearing out of the portal in the middle of the steakhouse and walking straight at him.

"Here you are." General Heron addressed Michael and threw a perfunctory nod at Angela. "Master Ishu has received an urgent message on your Physics system mission, Michael. I believe I must escort you to his office immediately, and we can brief you there."

Michael sighed and turned to Angela. "Next time, the pink one is going on my head."