Page 50 - Extraterrestrials, Foreign and Domestic

Anteroom
(Fantastic Transactions 2, 1997)

An unpleasant vibration, not quite audible, roused all four
people at once. Finding themselves in unfamiliar surroundings,
they came out of their rooms pell-mell and met each other for the
first time.
“What—what’s going on? Where am I? What’s happened?”
wailed the younger of the two women present. She shrank from
the men, who stood and blinked, speechless.
“Don’t ask me!” growled the other woman, who was looking
for a way out of the large chamber into which each of them had
come from separate small rooms. “Who the hell are you?”
“Whoa! Wait a minute,” said one of the men, a frown replacing
the spasm of shock into which his eyebrows had first elevated.
“You mean you don’t know where we are, either?”
“No!” screamed the women together.
“Oh, man, don’t shout,” groaned the other man, who appeared
to be suffering from a hangover. “Just point me to the booking
sergeant and let’s get a bail bondsman down here.”
“You fool! This isn’t a jail! Take a look around you!” The
younger woman was livid, finding a target for her distress. “Do
you see any bars? Does this look like any cell you’ve ever seen in
no doubt a wide acquaintanceship with such places?”
“Well, now that you mention it, no, it doesn’t. It looks more like
the lounge in a very small airport. But appearances can be
deceiving.” The man sat down in a heap on one of the sofa-like
pieces of furniture around the room. “Just keep your voice down,
please.”
“Jail or not,” said the older woman grimly, “we are prisoners.
Unless one of those bedchambers has an exit, there is no obvious
way out of here.”
The three livelier people quickly rummaged through the suite of
rooms, banging on walls, pressing on the ceiling, kicking at the
floor. Then they reassembled in the common room, the women

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