64 days of planet-hopping to get here.

 

The E­­­­.W. Transit Hub.

 

The faded ticket in my pocket gave me passage with a Corporate Star Liner. Not just any low-tier company, but the corporation, parent of every other galactic corporation: EmpathWorld™.

 

My great-grandmother won the ticket in a lottery, decades ago. A guaranteed multi-lifetime pass to Oplenza, famous for its garden festivals and free citizenship. Like gold or silver in the old world, it was passed down through generations before reaching me. I’d finally scraped together enough to buy my way onto cargo transports and travel across the cluster to claim the prize.

 

I chucked my last ration of Nutri-Paste into a recycler before inserting the tattered ticket into the shiny chrome slot.

 

Destination invalid.

 

Damn bureaucratic errors!

 

“Planet Oplenza? Sector Eleutheria.”

 

Destination invalid. Oplenza is no longer part of the Corporate Federation.

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

Pathogen outbreak. EmpathWorld™ coordinated a planet-wide quarantine to prevent wider contamination.

 

A pause.

 

You are still entitled to a five-minute EmPath™ trial. Would you like to proceed?

 

Eyes wide and breath caught in my chest, I sank into the flashing neon seat. A headset lowered itself over my head, and a bowl of steaming beef phở appeared in front of me. Music played as a holographic woman in a sundress offered to read to me. I sat back numbly and began slurping the noodles.

 

The broth spread warmth down my spine and into my fingertips. The soft voice reached around my entire body and cradled me. This was nice. I could live like thi—

 

Trial expired. Upload consciousness to unlock full experience. Terms and conditions apply.

 

My hand spasmed; I dropped my great-grandmother’s winning ticket stub like a burning coal and walked out of the terminal.