A New Arrival

As the bright, ghostlike apparition of Dr. Steven Ritenrong fades and the surrounding darkness slowly transforms into the dull glow of florescent lighting, Lucas "Doc" Shaw begins to realize he's not in in the Smithsonian anymore. The room is white and somewhat long, yet narrow, like the inside of a truck trailer, only larger and with rounded, almost cylindrical sides. There are several crates and boxes of a wide variety, from archaic wooden barrels to rather technical looking alloy storage containers.

Doc is sitting amongst the wreckage of a wooden shipping crate and its styrofoam peanuts, similar to one that he had opened just moments ago back at the Smithsonian. The create he received this morning, one of many that are regularly shipped to him, contained a peculiar artifact; a small, decorative marble Urn with a Nazi Swastika on it. He didn't know who sent it, but Doc remembers looking it over.

Inside the urn was nothing. A strange kind of infinite nothing, which Doc now distinctly remembers falling into. The sensation was familiar. He had been on many wormhole trips before, but this one had taken him completely by surprise. At the Smithsonian, the wormhole generators and equipment took up most of a 50,000 square foot warehouse. He had never dreamed one could fit in a two-foot decorative urn. This is also, obviously, the future. Time travel technology of his era cannot go forward in time. This is something weird indeed, as the most current wormhole theory he is aware of completely precludes this possibility.

Now, he is here, amongst the crates and broken shards of marble in some sort of shipping container with florescent lighting, and some very technical-looking controls and devices. Along the ceiling is a long even crack which seems to be mechanically sealed, as if the container he is in is opened from above. At either end of the container are naval-style bulkhead doors with glowing electronic control panels.

Lying next to him, apparently having fallen out of the container with him, is a small device much like an iPhone, with a display screen and some simple controls. It is labeled 'Q-Net I-Browse' and is currently displaying poorly written inspirational haikus:

Pleased to be relaxed,
Now is not the time for panic.
Why not have some Tea?

which gently fades out, and is soon followed by:

Q-Mart now offers
Shiny Day Happy Tea Brew
Only $9.99!

The bulkhead door at the far end of the room unlatches and swings open with a brief hiss. In steps a well dressed robotic gentleman. He is obviously a robot, although Doc cannot pinpoint the exact reason. He (it?) looks extremely human, but perhaps too much so. He is fair skinned with dark hair and a precisely curled mustache; but there's just something too perfect and precise about his features and movements, like a living computer rendering of a human, straight from the floor of the Uncanny Valley.

"Good evening, sir," he says in a deep, perfectly timbered and accented voice, a perfectly white towel draped off his perfectly tuxedoed arm, held perfectly before him. The other arm offers a perfectly clear martini on a perfectly clean silver tray. "I hope your journey was not too unpleasant. If you will please follow me, I will escort you to your room."

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