Jevoa the Adaptor

Chapter 1: Arrival

The baby soon found himself placed on a conveyor belt to slide him out of the reception room and into a private examination room. He was inching towards a hollow glass cube halfway placed across the room. Jevoa's weight triggered the sensors, and suddenly the glass surface facing him lifted towards the ceiling like a garage door and then the glass encapsulation swallowed him and the conveyor belt stopped.

The glass cube had an open top, but from above, a bulky black machine the size and appearance of three media players lowered down from the ceiling and sealed off the glass cube with the baby inside.

A doctor turned around with a remote in hand. He pushed a button, and a white light shone down from the machine like a spotlight, and scanned over Jevoa multiple times, then a computer screen chimed, telling the doctor everything he had to know about Jevoa and his genetic makeup. Except for one thing.

Type: Unknown.

Wasn't too unusual. They will find out later.

And so they fit him with new diaper and clothes, and wrapped him in a thick black cloth to keep him warm. The baby was transferred to the Transport people, and they carried him down a few flights of stairs. Jevoa was grouped with eleven other babies to be put on an industrial-styled stroller. This stroller had the dimensions of a giant shopping cart, and the occupant design of a rollercoaster, with four rows, each containing three sunken cushions with seatbelts. Jevoa was strapped in one and sent out the back door. The man holding the stroller pushed past two sets of glass doors and exposed Jevoa to the harsh cold. The wind roared and stung the face, the man's legs were freezing only one minute after going outside, his fingers were feeling irritated, his nose and ears frosted, and his boots were drowning in snow.

Ahead of him, vision was blurred out with coalesced snowflakes. The view ahead of him was literally devoid of color. Black sky with swirling giant white circles, on this lengthy downhill journey they were going out into the mountains. And these mountains were authentic, having steep slopes that were miles long, wild animals like wolves, snow leopards and bears, and networks of caves with crystals inside.

The man saw the chain-link fence, and felt relieved. He carefully walked onto a wooden deck, and found his way in one of the first buildings which was indeed his destination.

When they walked in, they felt the blast of warmth.

The man walked to another reception desk where the babies' arrivals were recorded again on a clipboard, and then each was assigned a random number. The man interpreted the number as he guided Jevoa down multiple flights of stairs and into a room covered with glass on three sides. Along the floor-to-ceiling glass were multiple doors and inside these rectangular compact boxes were cribs. Cage-like cribs with old, dusty mattresses. No mobiles with the delightful planetary icons and figurines. No baby-blue colored wall-paper or bright egg-yolk yellow paint, or soft pink. More brown.

Jevoa was assigned a crib, and little did he know that the glass was soundproof, yet there were speakers with recorders from inside the room, infrared lighting, X-Ray Screening, Motion detectors, and pure invasion of a baby's privacy.

The large open space outside of Jevoa's compact room was either soullessly empty or crawling with babies. Jevoa seemed to have a specific, right-on-the-minute schedule. An exact minute when he was to be carried out of his crib, walked across the building, placed in a high-chair and spoon-fed. A time when he was able to crawl in the main space with a sparing amount of cheap toys on the ground.

The best, most relieving thing about Jevoa was that he wasn't a crybaby. He kept silent most of the time, and even has been pushed onto the ground a number of times and yelled at, along with witnessing the same type of tension around his surroundings, and suffered from abnormal circumstances but most of the time he was just silent with a curious look on his face.