Making Memories, chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Spa
"Are you coming in or out, hon?" the lady at the desk of the Psyc hotel spa asked Martha, who had been staring out at the hallway for several moments after the Doctor.

"In," she said somewhat absentmindedly as she finally turned from the hall, turning her head last, and walked into the spa. She shook her head to clear it.

"Here you go, darling," the Trydian at the front desk said, handing her a green transparent plate similar to the one the brochure had been on.

Martha looked it over. It also sported the hotel name on the front. She searched for the golden oval that might turn it on, but there was none.

Before she could ask a question about it, however, the Trydian receptionist received a phone-call, or what Martha perceived to be a phone call. At first, she could see no visible means of communication, though clearly the Trydian had started talking to some unseen figure. After a few moments of waiting, Martha noticed a tiny lavender bud in each ear, barely the size of a ladybug.

Unsure of how long this conversation would take, she turned away from the desk and stared quizzically at the object in her hands, hoping that perhaps, if she stared long enough, it might come to life. "Need some help?" asked a voice. She lifted her head to see a strange aqua colored creature. Her eyes were somewhat bulbous, yet they were quite lovely in their color, and certainly gave the figure an air of sincerity.

"Is this supposed to do anything?" Martha asked somewhat haphazardly, flipping and turning the thin frame in every direction and manner she could think of.

The creature gave a laugh that sounded similar to a bird call. "Press your thumb to the center of the frame."

Martha turned it back to its right side and looked at it a moment. She did as instructed and pressed her thumb to the frame. After about a second, the frame flashed pink before turning back to green. "Species Determined" appeared on the screen in the same dark green as the hotel name had been. After a moment the text changed again. "Human, Pure."

"A pure human?" the blue creature said with a smile. "I've never seen one of those before." She reached out a paw.

Martha tentatively took the paw and shook it. "I've never seen one of your species either," she said somewhat awkwardly.

"I'm a Rycord," the figure said proudly. "My name is Nya."

Martha smiled, a bit more comfortable now. "My name is Martha. It's certainly a pleasure to meet you."

"It's more my pleasure than yours, I'm sure," Nya began, "when they find out you're a pure human--"

But before she could finish that thought, the receptionist from the help desk, whose name was emblazoned on an emerald name tag: Bri, was already standing in front of them.

"Hello," Bri said, reaching out and shaking Martha's hand without any hesitation. "Thank you for assisting miss--" Bri directed at Nya, then looked back to Martha to insert her name.

"Martha," Martha said, a bit flustered by the sudden attention.

"Ah, Miss Martha. If you'll come with me, I can help you pick out your treatment."

"What about Nya?" Martha asked, as Bri had already grasped her by the arm and started leading her across the room.

"Nya?" Bri asked glancing back in that direction and giving the creature a small smile. "Nya is a Rycord. Her species is well documented here. She will have no problems selecting her treatment."

Once they'd crossed the room, Bri motioned for Martha to sit on a couch draped in a heavy gold fabric.

Martha tentatively sat down.

"You, on the other hand," Bri continued, some strange sparkle in her eye, "are a different matter altogether."

"Well, then," Martha said shifting a but uneasily.

Bri sat down next to her. "It is such a rare delight to see a pure human this far out."

"Is it?" Martha asked, unsure of what else to say on the matter.

"Heavens, yes," Bri said with an exaggerated gesture. "I take it you know very little of our history," she asserted.

Martha gave an awkward shrug. "I know that you have the best resorts on this side of the universe."

Bri laughed. "Well, that certainly is true. But there is so much more to Tryad than that. Long ago a race of humans, the pure, our ancestors, set out for the stars. They wanted to travel, explore, settle. Some settled on planets already well inhabited and settled. But Tryad, Tryad was different. Its only life forms were primitive, barely capable of language!" She paused and looked to Martha for any degree of acquiescence on her part.

Martha shifted uneasily and finally gave an awkward smile and a small nod which seemed to placate Bri, at least, for the moment.

"Some of our early ancestors tried to make peace with these-- these things," Bri continued wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Such a fruitless waste. Finally we eradicated them," she said with a flippant, apathetic wave of her hand.

Martha's face twisted into one of shock. "You did what?"

"Eradicated them," Bri repeated matter-of-factly, hoping to continue.

"That's it then?" asked Martha, not obliging her. "You just eradicated them? And took their planet." She felt sick.

Bri looked her right in the eyes. "Well, it's not as bad as all that. I fear you misunderstand me."

"I should hope so!"

"These things, the things we eradicated, they weren't like us." She paused a moment and looked up towards the ceiling as if scanning her thoughts. "Old earth history, ancient earth history," she mumbled to herself. After a moment she turned back to look at Martha. "The human race, the ancient ones, long before us, our ancestor's ancestors, were little more than animals. We spent most of our time on four legs, our brains were underdeveloped, we had no control over our environment. They were primitive. They were like animals."

Martha eyed Bri warily. "You still killed them."

"Yes," Bri said, placing a sympathetic hand on Martha's own. "We had to. They were dangerous, they were frightened. They tried to kill us. Do you know how many of our ancestors died in the attempt to become friends with these creatures, who tried to civilize them?"

"Not as many as on their side, I'm sure," Martha said darkly.

Bri sighed. "There is no pleasing you, I see," she said, disappointed that Martha was so unwilling to share in the triumphant history of their race. "My advice, hon: Don't let our history trouble you. It was very long ago. As you can see, we embrace all species on Tryad." She then turned and pulled a bright pink stick-like object from her pants pocket. "May I see your pad?" she asked resuming the obligatory smile and demeanor of a service employee.

Martha picked her plate up off the couch and handed it to Bri, a little unnerved by her sudden change in demeanor.

Bri smiled at Martha before looking down at the plate and pressing her pink stick-like object to the center of the pad. She then took a seat next to Martha that she might see. The pad briefly flashed the words "Manual Override" in green before turning stark white with a list of treatments in a black boxy text prefaced by their species' name. "There are many species that derived from the ancestors, the ones that left long ago. Most, however, have intermingled with whatever species existed on their home-worlds. As such, I would suggest you pick from the list of Trydian treatments, as we are the closest to the ancestors. Certainly, we evolved, but not to the extent that you couldn't benefit from our treatments."

"Okay," Martha said a bit absentmindedly as Bri scrolled through hundreds and hundreds of treatments until finally coming to those prefaced with 'Trydian', though even those numbered in the hundreds, much to Martha's dismay.

"I can give you a brief overview of what they are," Bri said, noting the overwhelmed look on Martha's face. She pointed to the first on the list. "The Likadah is an absolutely wonderful treatment dealing with the hard projections on the appendages of our guests."

Noting Martha's continued confusion, Bri pointed to the girl's fingernails. "We trim, polish, and decorate these projections at the guest's request."

"Oh, so it's like a manicure, then." Martha asserted putting her free hand out in front of her and examining the condition of her nails.

Now it was Bri's turn to look confused.

"That's, uh, what they call it... where I'm from," Martha explained. "Lik-uh- whatever-you-said, it is, then," Martha said decidedly.

Bri nodded. "Likadah. Excellent choice. One of our Likadah specialists will be over shortly to assist you." And with that Bri gave Martha one last, broad, unnerving smile, and headed back to her desk.

Not moments later, a Trydian who sported deep brown eyes and was dressed in a beige apron came up to her. "Martha?" the Trydian asked for confirmation.

"That's me," Martha said with a smile.

The Trydian returned the smile. "My name is Wrun, and I will be taking care of you today."

Wrun put out an elbow and Martha stood and took it. The Trydian led her to the far corner of the room, where there were several luxury chairs for the guests and a wooden bench for the Lykadah specialists.

Martha was pleased to see Nya over there, having her long, slender claws trimmed by a small, somewhat shy, and soft-spoken specialist of her own.

"Martha," Nya said warmly. "I see you got everything straightened out."

Martha nodded and sat down in one of the chairs next to Nya.

"I knew you would," Nya continued, "I've been coming here for years and have always received wonderful service. I was here when this place opened," she said nostalgically.

Martha's ears perked up at this. "You were invited to the opening?"

Nya laughed. "Invited? Heavens, no. They only ever "invite" Trydians.

"Oh," Martha said, feeling a little rude for having now brought it up.

"But that's the way to vacation. The Trydians may only ever invite their fellow Trydians, but the resorts still offer cheaper prices for the rest of us when they open. The owners try to draw in as many people as they can at the very start, offering as many gifts and perks as they possibly can in order that at least half of those people will come back again. I've been to every Trydian resort opening for the last 200 years."

"If you would," Wrun said, resting a glass bowl filled with scented water on Martha's arm rest. Martha placed her hand in it, as Wrun began to wash it. "Every Trydian opening," she said with a hint of awe in her voice. "So you revisit them every few years?"

Nya went silent for several moments. "No, not really. This one is really the only one I ever return to."

"I'm sure Trinton will be glad to hear that," Wrun said with a snort.

"Who's Trinton?" Martha asked.

"Why, he's the head of this resort," Nya answered.

"So why this resort?" Martha asked Nya, as Wrun removed the bowl and began to dry off her hands.

"The predictions," Nya asserted. "No other resort has them."

"Though other resorts have certainly tried to follow in our footsteps," Wrun added as she began to file down Martha's nails.

"The Psycla predictions?" Martha asked, for clarification.

Wrun nodded. "The Psycla. And what a gimmick. When this mythical 'Doctor' single-handedly destroyed their credibility and economy with it, Trinton hired them real cheap. They had nothing anymore, they were practically willing to work for scraps."

"Some argue whether this 'Doctor' figure really ever existed," Nya added. "Some say Trinton himself brought down the Psyclan empire simply so he could buy them up cheap."

Wrun looked up at Nya and wrinkled her nose. "Yes, conspiracy theorists. Why on Tryad would Trinton want to destroy their credibility? He would've been able to make more money in the beginning if people still believed the hype."

"But the Psycla never would've sold out if they hadn't been ruined," Nya countered.

Wrun snorted, "The Trydian world went absolutely mad with the news that Trinton was going to start a hotel based around the Psycla!"

Martha nodded, "Ah, because of their lack of credibility."

"Because they were foreign!" Wrun countered.

Martha furrowed her brow. "But, Nya," she said turning to her, "you said you were always treated well here. Not all the guests here are Trydian. If foreigners are treated so badly, then why do they come back?"

"Guests aren't treated badly," Wrun corrected. "Paying guests are very important to Trinton, as they are to any of the resort owners along the strip. But Trydians, they hold tight to purity in their lines and practices. They strive for the model of perfection."

"The pure human?" Martha asked.

Wrun shook her head. "The pure human may be our ancestor, yes, but the Trydians feel they have evolved beyond their ancestry. They still respect it, but they believe they are better. They strive for what they see as the perfect Trydian, with the palest yellow eyes, the whitest hair, and the longest, thinnest, sinews. Now, Trydians hire 'less evolved' Trydians, sure, but never in the history of the planet as we knew it, had anyone hired foreigners. It was scandalous! The resort almost sank before it began -- no Trydian wanted to come here!

"So Trinton sent out invitations -- but they were different than other invitations. They were free. The visit was completely and utterly free of cost. While some Trydians ignored the invitations on principle, the majority couldn't pass up such an offer. And despite some apprehension in getting a reading when almost all Trydians knew the Psycla were complete frauds -- which added insult to injury, mind you -- they couldn't pass up the free reading either."

"And that's how they hook you," Nya said leaning back into her chair as her specialist began to polish the newly sharpened claws. "Somehow the Psycla are always right."

"But only our Psycla," Wrun added. "The Golden Eye, just down the strip, they tried to get a piece of the Psycla. They hired their own, paid them ten times more than what we pay ours, and for a bit they had some success. But their Psycla, I don't know. Theirs just... They couldn't predict anything, and the investors lost a lot of money in the endeavor."

Nya turned to Wrun. "Last I heard, they were trying to make up their losses by stealing our Psycla."

Wrun nodded, and began to polish Martha's nails. "They did. Offered them twenty times the pay, offered them benefits! For heaven's sake, benefits! That's more than I can say for us, isn't that right, Vene?" she asked to the specialist working on Nya.

Vene, the younger, soft-spoken Trydian who was working on Nya, nodded and finally decided to take part in the conversation, especially now that she had been directly addressed. She looked around, as if making sure no one would use her words against her later. "They treat us little better than foreigners, let alone the Psycla -- and here was The Golden Eye, offering them pay and benefits far greater than any of us could ever hope to see!"

"And they didn't take it!" Wrun exclaimed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and outrage.

Vene looked over toward her. "Anise tried to apply over there, remember?" She turned to Martha, her voice barely above a whisper "thought she might get the same pay, thought she might at least get more than she got here."

"What happened?" Martha asked.

Wrun shook her head. "They laughed in her face, that's what happened. And then Trinton fired her for disloyalty!" She paused from the story a moment to offer Martha a variety of color choices for her nails.

"She got a better job, I hope," Martha said after she had chosen.

Wrun gave a condescending laugh. "Anise? Anise was one of us. I don't know where you're from, but let me assure you, job opportunity is based upon eye color, and purity of form. See our eyes? They're brown, not gold. If your eyes are brown you're almost guaranteed to be stuck in menial labor for life."

Martha furrowed her brows. "But my eyes are brown."

Wrun nodded. "Yes, your eyes are brown, but you retain the characteristics of a pure human. They respect those who look like the ancestors, and revere those closest to the true model of Trydians, with golden eyes and light hair."

Vene looked to Martha. "And anyone in between is looked down upon."

"And that's putting it mildly," Wrun added.

Martha frowned. "That's terrible."

Vene smiled wearily at Martha. "It's not that terrible. We're employed, and we're good at what we do."

"Appreciative guests make life easier," Wrun agreed.

"And oh, how we appreciate you," Nya said, holding her paw up in the air and admiring the work that Vene had done so far.

Vene blushed and continued her work.

"So what about you?" Wrun asked Martha. "You're a long way from home. After their expansion the humans returned to a policy of complete isolationism. They rarely leave their own planet, much less come out here to visit their children."

"You're prying," Vene whispered harshly to Wrun, but Wrun waved her off.

Nya turned to Martha. "It is curious. If you don't mind us saying so."

"Well, I, uh, I came with a friend."

"Ooh, another pure human!" Nya exclaimed.

"Well, not quite," Martha said.

"Well than what is he?" Wrun asked.

"Let's just leave it at 'not human'."

"You know, we cater to pretty much every known species on this side of the galaxy, it's not like you're going to shock us," Wrun retorted.

"Oh, be nice," Nya shot back. "Can we have a name?"

Martha furrowed her brow. "Well, he doesn't really have a name, either."

Nya gave a pout. "Well, that's just not fair. You don't tell us the species or the name."

"Certainly you must call him something," Wrun insisted.

"He calls himself the Doctor."

Nya's eyes went wide. "Like the Doctor of the story? The one who single-handedly brought down the Psycla?"

Wrun rolled her eyes. "I'm sure lots of people go around calling themselves doctors. Maybe he's a medical doctor, they certainly tend to be wrapped up in their titles."

"Or a Professor," Vene added.

"Pompous, either way," Wrun asserted.

"More like self-assured," Martha said somewhat absentmindedly, her mind returning to the Doctor.

Wrun glanced up. "Oh, I know that look. You fancy him, don't you?"

"Well, I don't know," she said staring down at her half painted nails.

"Oh, I think you know," Wrun asserted.

Martha sighed. "The problem is, he doesn't notice, or if he does notice, he certainly doesn‘t let on."

"You poor thing," Nya said sympathetically.

"There was this, this girl, before me, that he used to travel with."

"And he still has feelings for her," Wrun asserted shaking her head. "Well I say forget about him. There's no sense in chasing after a man that's pining after someone else."

"That's just it, I'm not sure if I can forget about him. He's just... so amazing. He's like no one else I've ever met," Martha said with a sad sigh.

"Have you tried?" Wrun retorted.

"Trust me, there's no one else like him out there. He's the last of his kind," Martha said, somewhat wistfully.

"Oh, I doubt that," Wrun said.

The group continued chatting as Martha and Nya had their nails finished.

A small ways off, two Psycla were standing in front of a doorway draped with heavy purple curtains trimmed in gold, the Reading Room. They started listening in on the girls' conversation the moment they brought up the Doctor.

"The Doctor," the one on the left, named Cycradia, repeated in disgust.

"Yes, apparently he feels he didn't do enough damage on our homeworld," the second Psycla, named Trydalyre, added.

"I don't know why we're catering to him and that, that girl he totes around. We ought to have him blacklisted and forcibly removed," Cycradia said defiantly.

Trydalyre stared at Martha for several moments before responding. "We could kick him out, yes. But wouldn't it be far more sweet a revenge if we were to turn him into a believer?"

Cycradia scoffed, "That would never happen. The Doctor would never consent to a Reading, be it free or otherwise -- he's still convinced we're frauds!"

Trydalyre turned to face her companion. "The Doctor may not consent, but this girl of his might."

"And how do you know she doesn't have preconceptions about us? Certainly, the Doctor's filled her mind with venom," Cycradia countered. "I can see it, I can see all he might have said about us."

"Then you can see as well as I, there is the possibility she is not tainted, that he told her nothing, and that she will come with us."

"I highly doubt he has told her nothing."

"Are you relying on your sight, or your intellect?" And with that, Trydalyre headed out onto the floor toward Martha, leaving Cycradia aghast at her nerve.

Before Martha could admire the beautiful work Wrun had done with her nails, she was approached by Trydalyre who gave a small, polite bow.

"Miss--," the Psycla began.

"Martha," Wrun prompted, eying the Psycla warily.

"Miss Martha," Trydalyre continued, "as a courtesy, seeing as this is your first time, we are pleased to offer you a free reading."

Martha gave an awkward smile. "I really shouldn't."

"Oh, but you should!" Nya interjected. "It's great fun."

"I promised I wouldn't," Martha replied.

"Promised whom?" Wrun asked.

"Well, I promised--" Martha began.

"The man who doesn't think twice about you," Wrun finished for her.

"Wrun!" Vene reprimanded in a harsh whisper that Wrun outright ignored.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Martha said a bit flustered.

"It really is great fun, especially when they come true," Nya continued to urge.

"I don't know," Martha said her voice wavering.

"What can it hurt?" Nya said.

"Maybe it'll get him to notice you. At least he'll know you make your own decisions. Don't let him control you," Wrun retorted.

"He's only looking out for me," Martha said distantly.

"It's perfectly free, no strings," Trydalyre added.

"It's not like it hurts," Nya continued. "At least do it for a lark. To say you did. It is an experience."

"I don't know," Martha said, though she allowed the Psycla to take her arm and start leading her towards the room. She cast a nervous glance back at her friends, and was only mildly comforted by Nya's broad, amused smile. She turned back to the Psycla. "I really shouldn't."

At this, the Psycla immediately released her arm. "It's not compulsory, miss Martha. No one is going to force you. It's just a simple reading. Most people just want to get one, that's all. Like the Rycord said, it doesn't hurt."

The Reading Room was just a little further off, and Martha eyed the heavily draped door warily. But what was she concerned about? The Doctor had merely stated they were frauds, nothing more. Yet, if that were so, why was he so adamant she not participate? There had to be something she was missing. She had the irrational fear that if she went into the room alone, she might not come back out. It loomed there ominously, with it's heavy decorative purple drapery.

Trydalyre put a reassuring hand on Martha's shoulder. "I assure you, there's nothing to be afraid of in there."

Before Martha could reply, a heavyset creature with spots similar to that of a leopard and a tail that looked like that of a lizard walked out of the room together with Cycradia, a large smile on his face. He shook Cycradia's hand and thanked her, on behalf of his race, for their wonderful service to the guests of the resort.

Trydalyre gestured toward him. "See? Nothing to be afraid of."

"I guess not," Martha said, still warily eying the door, and she reluctantly, but of her own power, followed Trydalyre down the steps into the Reading Room.