Many of you didn't know this, but I came in illegally from future A1A31B through the World Trees. I found a wonderful and accepting home at Psychic High School, but I kept my status a secret because I was afraid of the Unified Reality Border Police and deportation back to A1A31B. But now through Psychic High School's Sanctuary Program, I'm not afraid to tell the story of who I really am.

It also means I'm eligible for work-study placement through he Astral Guidance Center, and just today I found out I got an internship with Nibiru Inc! I will be working on the welcome/greeting center for the Planet IX Orbital Station. It's such an honor, and only could have happened because of the incredible opportunities available to students at this wonderful place. Thank you, Psychic High School, thank you!

I've been spending my study halls volunteering in the Astral Guidance Center, and when I saw the internships on the Planet IX Orbital Station I knew it was the chance that I'd been looking for. To have a company like Nibiru in your school transcripts is a golden ticket! And I'm lucky to be able to experience it with such diverse members of our student body, like @Binary Clam Jr., and Louisa, the Tapioca Pudding Girl.

We meet at the Translation Chambers at 10am tomorrow! I'm so excited I don't know how I'll sleep tonight!

Steady

John Glenn was the first American not to die in space. Yuri Gagarin was the first person not to die in space. And I'm happy to be joining you all here on the internship program on Planet IX! This is gonna be a hoot.

Everything worked fine in the Translation. In the Translation Chambers, that is. You go in naked as a jaybird and come out the other side all transubstantiated. Never really clear what they do with the old body. You're allowed to bring one official-sized piece of luggage full of stuff, and you get a copy of that too. I think they put the originals into an incinerator.

So here I am on the observation deck in the artificial gravity wondering where all my schoolmates are! C'mon guys, let's party! The sun is sooooo tiny from out here.

This artificial gravity is making me thirsty. And woozy and lightheaded. I've had the window dimmed in my cabin since I got here because looking outside doesn't help.

I read all the literature before I applied and did all the preparatory exercises they tell you to do like spinning on the merry-go-round at the playground for an hour with your eyes closed or hanging upside down in the elevator all day but nothing prepared me for this. Luckily the first real day isn't till tomorrow, and Louisa, the Tapioca Pudding Girl, has been checking on me. She's the best.

Hopefully I'll get my massive-orbital-station-space-legs by tomorrow. The thing's enormous so people say I really shouldn't be having any weird reactions and it's all in my head. I really don't want to be the lame sick person here. :(

Steady

The first couple of days at my internship were hard. I came here ready to work, but I didn't realize they gave interns such responsibility. I signed up to work on the welcome/greeting center for the Planet IX Orbital Station, and imagined it would be... construction? Wiring up flat screens? Instead, my group has been tasked with creating a new language.

Dr. Alulim is our boss, and he's really cool, and says that if we just keep watching the video streams in the VR goggles then it will eventually all be clear. We strap on the headsets and for 15 minutes at a stretch and watch as thousands of images flash at us. They go too fast to tell what they are, but it seems like old history footage: wars, crowds, animal sacrifice, explosions, babies crying, occasionally interrupted by simple patterns or diagrams. Then, the headsets come off and we're given some ink and a brush and told to "express ourselves" on a big sheet of paper. Dr. Alulim hasn't seemed to find what he's looking for, but he's really supportive. He wants us to keep trying.

A couple of the other interns have dropped out already. They were having nosebleeds and passing out, but Dr. Alulim says they're just still adjusting. There's some pills he gave us to take that are supposed to help. I'm exhausted, but ready to go at it again tomorrow!

You know the kind of friend that you love but always gets you into trouble? KidGoat is that kind of friend.

He doesn't even go to Psyhigh but got accepted on this same internship on the Planet IX project. (He's from Mystical high, and there's kids here too from Satanic, 'Pataphysics, Mummy High, Hitman Academy, Sumerian Immersion School, and a bunch of others too.)

At first I was stoked to see him, and for the first couple of days it was TOTALLY a blast, exploring the station, going to orientation, learning how to operate the zero-G forklifts, hanging out in the mess hall.

But before I knew it he was mouthing off to the instructors and getting us both in trouble. I mean, it WAS funny but now we're both in detention, and it's a two-strike kind of place. Next time something happens we're both booted from the station, and I absolutely don't want that. What am I gonna do???

I am SO PROUD to have been picked to be the personal assistant of Mr. Oddway! He is the director of the Planet IX Orbital Station. It is the biggest honor, and is going to look so great on my transcript.

I had to sign a "non-disclosure agreement" and a lot of it was in languages I couldn't understand but Mr. Oddway said it was just a formality and I trust him because obviously he's a great and powerful person and now I get to follow him around with an ipad all day.

Also, I get to go to all the "secret" parts of the station. That's what he calls it anyway, with that little laugh of his. It's where he meets with the aliens and they speak in languages I don't understand either but afterwards Mr. Oddway nods at me and has me write down numbers like 600 quadrillion next to little icons that look like alien faces.

I just know this is going to get me places. Louisa, the Tapioca Pudding Girl, doesn't like Mr. Oddway like I do, but that's because she got stuck in the Mess Hall. Like always. People assume she's some kind of food expert just because she's made of tapioca pudding and I tell her she needs to be more outgoing because nobody's going to know she's a wiz at higher abstract mathematics if she just stands there and quivers whenever she meets anyone new. That's not how you get ahead in life.

c'lkkkk c'lkkkkkkkkkkkk c'lkkkkkkk EEEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEik! EEeek eeeeek eeek eeeek eeeeekk! c'lkkk c'lkk c'lkkkkkk

I've been able to keep KidGoat from getting into trouble. Part of it's cuz we've been kept so busy movin stuff around the space station with the zero-G forklifts. I thought internships were supposed to be "educational" and not just forced slave labor?

"Yeah, educating us to goof off without getting in trouble! Na-a-a-a-a-a! NA-a-a-a-a-a-a!" KidGoat bleats.

He's referring to when we take our little side trips around the station when we're moving stuff around. Like the other day when we found this big storage bay with giant floor-2-ceiling windows. It's like you can see all of space out there. And the Sun isn't much bigger than any other star - just brighter. We must be so far out.

Anyway that's when we found @Gentle Porpoise, who was in his own zero-G motorized tank. KidGoat used his so called "language skills" and we made friends. @Gentle Porpoise was kickin' it just like us, and he asked us not to tell anybody we saw him there. He was cool. But we didn't want to get busted so we finished up our delivery and got back to forklift central before anybody was the wiser.

Dr. Alulim is really happy with my work. I just started letting the brush flow, and now it's like it writes itself. I've written pages and pages in a language I don't understand, and he has a few of them projected on the walls of his office.

"Now, watch as I overlay the transparency"

Another slide comes into focus. Dr. Alulim adjusts it and moves it into position.

"It's an exact match. Even down to the most subtle brush strokes. Truly remarkable."

He asks me to attend a luncheon with the heads of the other six departments. They're a mix of bird headed people and fish people. Some of the fish people have human heads, some don't.

"Whatever you do, don't eat the food."

I notice Dr. Alulim gently move the food around his plate while he talks about funding with the planning director. His fork will almost reach his mouth when he suddenly remembers a question. Then he sets the fork back down and keeps talking. By the end of the meal his plate is clean, but none of it entered his mouth.

No one seemed to notice I didn't touch mine.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Distinguished Colleagues! I present @Binary Clam Jr.!"

Dumbfounded, I walk to the podium, alien hands patting me on the back.

I stand behind the lectern looking at the bird heads and fish heads and human heads and the big picture window looking out at the stars. I open my mouth and begin speaking in a language I don't understand.