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This picks up from the apocalypse party | decision 1.A CYOA after you chose:
B. Go along with it, and let this Sardotian girl take you away in order to “infiltrate down below”
“You’re an asshole.”
“It’s pronounced practical.”
Earlmire takes swigs from his bottle and watches as the Sardotian girl drags you out of the crowded room. He winks at you as the door slams shut, leaving you alone with your captor in the corridor.
She leads you through the metal tunnel to an airlock. After typing into a keypad next to the wheel handle of the airlock door, she leans in as to a microphone and says: “[Mang Sebits of level seven, zero nine seven four four, reporting alien in stone room red-eleven.]” (Your internal translator sorts out her Sardotian language) “[Old guy, grey hair, smoke in his suit, out of his gourd on Aishoan Ink.]”
“[Who is with you?]” A voice says from a speaker near the airlock.
“[A second alien that I’m taking to deportation.]”
A struggling computer fan whirs through the speaker. “[Uh, hold on.]” The speaker abruptly plays static. A new voice cuts in. “[Um, sorry, our facial recognition software flagged your detainee as a registered mianca. I’m now transferring you over to this one’s requisition officer.]” Music plays, but only a few notes before a third voice cuts in. “[This is senior Devon Heds. Please bring that mianca to my quarters on sub-c.]”
Mang Sebits of level seven, zero nine seven four four, begins turning the wheel handle of the airlock. The lower part of her helmet is fogging up as sweat drips down her temples. You realize she’s nervous. You can tell she’s shaking. You consider trying to tackle her. You hesitate as you imagine what would happen if you accidentally punctured your pressure suit while trying to escape.
A voice crackles through your comlink.
“Brilliant, this was quicker than I expected to be probable. Let her take you there.” You glance around to see if Earlmire is nearby as the girl opens the first door of the airlock and pushes you in. He’s not, of course he’s not, he’s listening in from a safe distance while you risk your life.
Mang Sebits of level seven closes the first door of the airlock behind you. The room lights up, blinding you as your suits are sterilized. The room then fills with an atmosphere appropriate for breathing. Mang opens the second door of the airlock. You both step into a large cavern four stories high. On a platform in front of you, groups of Sardotians wait at eight elevators or shuffle into train cars on a subway track which bookends the platform. The track connects in front of you several feet before the wall of elevators, turning inbound train cars on the left into outbound ones on the right. You cross the subway tracks after a train car looping from the left passes and wait with what appears to be a small group of Sardotian students for an elevator.
All the elevators are going down, so it takes some time before you finally enter an open one.
Your elevator stops at every level. You reach sub-c after six minutes.
There is another subway down here on sub-c and the ceiling here is only slightly taller than the seven-foot train cars. Mang marches you right in the middle of the tracks where arrival becomes departure. You pass through a tunnel.
The ceiling expands in this part of the cavern, suddenly becoming thirty feet high. There is a fountain in front of you, and two guards stand at attention on the far side of the cavern near a large double door built of glass. One of the guards approaches you.
“[Leave the mianca and go now. You will be rewarded.]” The guard calmly waves off Mang.
“[I’ll hand off to Devon, thank you.]” Mang stands her ground.
“[Is that you, Mang?]” A voice whips out from the now open glass doors. “[I’ll make sure you’re situated.]” His voice is the same voice from the airlock speakers. This is Devon. He’s dressed in a white sheet wrapped at his neck and waist with his own braided hair. Rubber bands hold the sheet together at his ankles above bare feet
“[Acknowledged.]” Mang turns around and leaves. Devon glares at you with squinted eyes, bearing wrinkles around his pale sockets. He waits until Mang is completely out of earshot before addressing his guards.
“[Make sure to locate the alien from that stone room.]” He orders without breaking eye contact with you. “Follow.” Now you hear him without the filter of your internal translator, his words slurred as he speaks in your own language. You follow him into the double glass doors.
“Unconfirmed, but this man may be a killer,” Earlmire says over the comlink. “Don’t react.”
“Surprise I experience. Escape possible but you remain.” Devon leads you into a muggy room filled with plants and grass. Devon smiles, then he shakes his head. “Your pressure suit, remove it.”
“This might be murder time,” Earlmire says through the comlink, then audibly throws up. “Hold on, I just threw up in my suit.” He takes a few deep breaths, then you can hear him glugging more Aishoan Ink.
“Pressure suit, remove it!” Devon spits at you.
“I don’t want to, thank you.” You respond as calmly as you can.
“[If you say you are no longer willing mianca, Sardotia will not protect you!]” Devon stands, ready to pounce, yelling in Sardotian as if hoping to be heard by the guards outside. “[If unwilling you must leave, escorted outside Sardotia borders as a classified alien. No, classified enemy since you’ve had eyes inside Sardotia. Are you unwilling?]”
“No, say you are willing,” Earlmire says in the comlink while spitting to try ridding his mouth of vomit. “You are willing and take off your pressure suit.”
Devon curls his toes into the grass. “If you are unwilling, you should have already disappeared.”
B. …trust Earlmire? Hell no. Remain unwilling, and keep your pressure suit on.
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