Lab Animals (Patreon)

Alrighty, the combined puppet demo is still a patchwork since there are so many paths to connect. So it is not finished yet, but here is an excerpts from the 3.1 path side of the demo. This is where Mortum had Sky-Raider break the puppet with broken legs out from the hospital. It's not from the start, but from somewhere in the middle. As always, the code lacks a lot of choices, what the puppet and Dr. Mortum are to each other, and paths, but it's a little peek. Thank you for your patience! I truly appreciate your support! I couldn't do this without you. Now I just need to turn all these bits into a finished mosaic and get the proper demo done. But it's complex!

The base of this is romanced or friendly puppet that has not told Dr. Mortum that they really are Sidestep.

....

*comment 3_1 path, add in variants for 2_3 and others later.

Only when the doors are safely shut behind you and the elevator has deposited you back into the bowels of Los Diablos do you dare to breathe once more. No blaring alarms. No sign of immediate intrusion. You don't doubt the security systems would pick up Retribution, Dr. Mortum made that armor, of course ${mhe}would be able to spot its approach. Did you do it? Did you lose whatever was in that armor?

You certainly lost your breath, struggling to regain it enough to speak. Dr. Mortum gives you time to recover, running ${mhis} hands over the panels, no doubt scanning for whatever threat that has left you in this state. Finding nothing.

Hopefully.

"Calm down, ${title}," ${mhe} says, as if ${mhe} could read your mind. "There's nothing out there, you're safe." Dr. Mortum's hand on your back is light enough not to trigger bad feelings as ${mhe} ushers you deeper in to the lab, away from the entrance. It's heavy enough to feel supportive. Warm. Safe. Are you? Could you ever be?

No, your brain supplies, unprompted. Not while whatever was in that armor is out there, looking for you. The lab is shielded, you know that much, but you can't stay here forever. Like it or not, you need help. More help than Dr. Mortum has already given to you.

*if mortumknows

  *comment Write later, mortum knows the truth. Probably a goto to a new scene. REMEMBER TO ADD VARIABLES FOR THIS LATER.

*else

  *goto littlelies

*label littlelies

And for that, you need a lie more palatable than the truth.

*fake_choice

  #For now. I will tell Dr. Mortum once it is safe to do so.

    You won't keep lying forever. Just for now. How could you even start explaining what is going on? With Retribution out there, there's no way Dr. Mortum would believe that's really your body and that ${puppet_name} never existed. Right now proof exists to the contrary.

  #At this point I don't even know what the truth is.

    At this point, you're not even sure what the truth even is. Retribution is out there, your armor and body no longer yours to control. How are you supposed to tell Dr. Mortum that its really your body and that ${puppet_name} never existed? Right now proof exists to the contrary.

  #I can't risk Dr. Mortum throwing me out.

    It's not like you can stop lying now, no matter how much you care about the good doctor, not when you need ${mhim} the most. Besides, any story you could tell would fly in the face of all evidence. Retribution is out there, your armor and body no longer yours to control. No proof that it was ever yours to begin with.

$!{mhe}'s a scientist. The most logical conclusion would be that you've been brainwashed. Or manipulated somehow. Perhaps you'll get a chance to reveal the truth and have it sound believable eventually. Until then, you need to keep up the act.

"$!{puppet_name}?" Dr. Mortum calls for your attention, and you realize that ${mhe}'s probably been trying to get your attention for a while. "What happened?" $!{mhe} doesn't elaborate. $!{mhe} doesn't need to. You know what's unsaid. What is the danger here? Does ${mhe} need to do something about it?

You sit down at the table, ${mhe}'s ushered you into the little kitchenette by now. Coffee is a panacea, and you can smell it brewing. Not ready yet, you suppose you should be grateful that he didn't just microwave a cup of the cold leftovers. $!{mhe} hasn't done that more than once. More of an atrocity than many of ${mhis} experiments.

"You were right," you start, looking down at your hands as you try to pick the right words. You know ${mhim} well enough to sweeten the pot with some flattery. "My boss." You pause as if it takes some effort to say their name. "Retribution. They're after me. I managed to get away this time, but I wouldn't want to chance a repeat experience."

"Merde." The curse is short and swift, a quick look at ${mhis} watch to see if there is anything amiss. You don't need to read ${mhis} mind to know what ${mhe}'s thinking. You came here. To ${mhis} lab.

"I wasn't followed."

*if known_telepath

  "Retribution is a telepath." $!{mhe} shakes ${mhis} head as if ${mhe} can't quite believe your recklessness.

*else

  "Retribution is a telepath I believe?" $!{mhe} meets your eyes, and you nod. An easy enough conclusion to make for a ${mortum_gender} who created their armor.

"If they had any power over my mind, do you think I would even have had thoughts of rebelling?" Your laugh is hoarse, you have no idea how this is working, but at this point you're certain that it is. Look to the evidence, not to your own terrors and paranoia.

You must be, if not immune, at least impossible to find or influence for Retribution. If that hadn't been the case, you would never have been able to escape the mall. Whether it is because whoever the impostor is can't access your powers, or whether it is because they need all their strength to control your body, you're not sure. You can't use your telepathy when possessing other people's bodies, you would assume the same would be true for them.

"That makes sense," Dr. Mortum grudgingly admits. To even have the treacherous thoughts you admitted to earlier would have been cause for dismissal otherwise. "And I trust you were careful enough not to be spotted physically as you came here?"

*fake_choice

  #"I'm not an amateur," I say, annoyed.

    "I'm not an amateur," you say, the annoyance your first hint of emotion that's not tied to fear. Good. Anger is the fuel you need right now.

  #"Of course. I would never risk anything happening to you."

    "Of course," you assure, voice going soft. "I would never risk anything happening to you." ${mhe} has been too good to you. You won't drag back trouble to ${mhis} doorstep if you can help it.

  #"You would already know if I had messed up, wouldn't you?

    "You would already know if I had messed up, wouldn't you?" You can't help sounding nervous. The certainty that you lost Retribution is mixed with the fear that you don't know enough to predict them. "I don't want to compromise this place."

"I know that. And the systems back you up, all seems quiet out there." ${mhe} adjusts ${mhis} glasses, and finally focuses fully on you once more.

*if character 3_1

  "It's best you keep your head down for now, though."

  "I won't stay locked up forever." You speak through gritted teeth. "We need to figure out some way to strike back."

*else

  "As I said, you'll be safe here for as long as you wish to stay."

  "I didn't come here to hide." You speak through gritted teeth. "I came here to get help to strike back."

"Oh." You can see the slight shift on ${mhis} face, the nervousness of a ${mortum_gender} not used to outright battle. "I'm a scientist, ${title}, not a fighter."

"I know," you assure. "And you made that armor too well for Retribution to be taken down easily. I don't..." you pause before continuing. You don't what? Want to kill them?

Regardless of your anger, you can't. That's [b]your[/b] body. But that's a reason you can't admit to, at least not yet. Not without risking your one lifeline. Maybe later, once you have your body in front of you. If you can't take it back then, maybe you need to confess. Ask for more help. But right now, what you need can be obtained with few deft lies. What is another one on the pile you've built together?

"I don't want them dead. I need to talk to them," you finally settle for as you continue. "I think this can be solved by words, but I can't risk them taking me out before I have a chance to say my piece."

"Are you serious?" Dr. Mortum gives you a look of equal parts horror and disbelief. "Haven't you given up on them yet? What kind of hold do they have over you?"

*fake_choice

  #"I owe them my life. I can't just forget that."

    "I owe them my life. I can't just forget that." A truth, finally. "I think I can fix this. They don't know the whole truth, if I get the chance to say my piece they might understand."

  #"It's complicated," I admit with a helpless shrug.

    "It's complicated. And maybe I'm wrong. But I can't just cut all cords and pretend that would work. There are things I need to know first."

  #"Please trust me. I know what I'm doing."

    "Please trust me," you say, doing your best to sound confident. "I know what I'm doing."

"More secrets," Dr. Mortum sighs as you don't elaborate further.

"There's always more secrets, you know that." You wish you didn't sound this tired. That you didn't [b]feel[/b] this tired.

"I know we agreed to this, to keep what we have between us away from the rest of our complicated lives, but you are making it very hard not to ask." $!{mhe} looks back over ${mhis} shoulder as ${mhe} pours you some coffee. "I'm worried. I feel like I can't help you if I don't know what's really going on here."

"I know I'm not fair," you admit. Which is the least of it. "And you deserve to know everything. I just don't know if I..." You break off, meeting ${mhis} gaze behind the tinted glasses as the cup is placed in front of you. "Telling the truth is not something I'm used to. I don't think I ever have. I can't. It's too risky."

"No risk no reward," Dr. Mortum says with a faint smile. "Fine, I won't push. You can do this on your own time. Just know that I am willing to listen."

"I don't doubt that." You look down. "I'm just not sure I'm willing to take the risk. Not yet."

"Not with your life on the line," ${mhe} says, ${mhis} guess too close to the truth as always.

"Can..." You break off, rephrasing the question. "Will you help me?"

"What do you need to do." The sentence is simple, scalpel-sharp. "What do you need [b]me[/b] to do."

"I need to talk to Retribution. Outside of their armor. And they won't come willingly. So that needs to be dealt with. I don't suppose you have a backdoor?" You keep your voice even, it was one of the things that worried you.

*if streetwise

  How would you ever know?

*else

  You never found anything, but you have to admit Dr. Mortum is sharper than you when it comes to those things.

"I don't." $!{mhe} looks almost offended by the suggestion. "I pride myself on my integrity as a weapons and armor designer, once it leaves my hands it doesn't belong to me anymore. I do, however, know whatever hint of a weakness still in there despite my best efforts."

"Do you know a way to stop it without destroying it?"

"Well, there will likely be some damage," ${mhe} admits. "But nothing that's not repairable. Why such concern?"

"Like I said, I hope this can be resolved with talking." You sip your coffee, doing your best to look nonchalant. "No need to make that harder than necessary."

*comment ALTERNATIVE PATH IF CATASTROFIEND IS LOOSE, REROUTE TO LATER.

*comment if mortumgotgun is false, then write different section.

*if gunsecret

  *goto plantime

*else

  *comment goto explaingun, write later if you don't know what it does.

*label plantime

"Well, we do have a few options." All business now, scientist's mind already at work. "I do have my 'disintegration' gun back in my hands." The smile twitch at the word disintegration. "That could be used to transport Retribution to a secure location of our choosing. All we need to do is shoot them, then reverse the process in a suitable holding cell. Such a short stint within the gun won't harm them. It won't feel nice, but I assume that nausea and migraine is acceptable?"

"They'll still be in the armor." You feel uneasy at the thought, you've never seen this gun work, but you suppose it can be tested before using it on your body. Just to be sure.

"I can set up a holding cell with an ambient power draining loop. I should be able to drain the armor if given enough time."

"You're forgetting about the nanovores." You made your armor with things like this in mind. "Drain the power to the void cage and they'll get loose and eat the containment walls even if Retribution doesn't unleash them immediately."

"Merde. You're right. I had forgotten about that." Dr. Mortum sits down with ${mhis} own coffee, forehead wrinkled in thought. "A true dead man's switch."

"They don't want to be captured." Your voice feels empty of all emotion. "Better to destroy everything in their surroundings than that happening." Nothing organic, but no cell or prison to stand in the way of you escaping in the confusion.

"We would have a short window once Retribution is released from the gun when they would be confused," Dr. Mortum switches plans seamlessly, dumping some more sugar in the coffee before stirring. "It might be enough time for us to trigger the emergency eject system."

"Maybe." You know what ${mhe}'s getting at. In case you ever needed to get out of the armor fast, there is a way to do it nearly instantly. Using the emergency reject will shed the majority of the armored structure, leaving you with minimal life support, your helmet and the Rat King. It was meant as a last resort in case your armor was immobilized somehow, if your generator was malfunctioning, or if someone like Sticky Sticky Bang Bang had planted explosives on you. As annoying a name as annoying a power. You just never knew. "It won't be easy to trigger for us." You know the how to work it from inside the armor, a separate, mechanical sub-system, double redundancy in case Ortega broke through the insulation and fried your systems for good.

"Not easily,' ${mhe} admits. "But luckily Retribution did ask for an emergency medical assistance port, so it's not impossible."

"They did." Your smile feels almost alien on your face, the first ray of hope in a long time. You needed to be able to open the armor from the outside if your body was ever incapacitated. "That will take a while, though." You need to open the hatch which will need tools, then access the port manually. Not something that can be done during a fight. "And I doubt they will stand still long enough to let that happen."

"In a place with dampeners I can enlist someone to help us with that. Strong enough hold them down long enough to get to pop their armor, so to speak."

*if suit_strength

  "Even with the exo-skeleton?"

  "I think so. Though I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea with redundancy."

"Are you talking about hiring help?" You suppose you have no choice here, even though you loathe to involve others. This is a private problem.

"I can call in a few favors." Dr. Mortum sips ${mhis} coffee. "You already know Sky-Raider."

*comment ALTERNATIVE DIALOGUE IF YOU DO NOT KNOW SKY-RAIDER

"I do," you admit, the details of your rescue still painfully clear. "I doubt those tentacles will last long enough against nanovores."

"Would Retribution really dare release them in a dampening field?" There is a momentary pause before ${mhe} continues. "They would risk harming their own armor I think."

"If they are desperate enough." You're not about to tell ${mhim} that the Rat King has an easier time operating under dampeners, and they are the ones in charge of the nanovores. Is your impostor working with the Rat King? The thought is a painful stab in your gut, you hadn't expected it to hurt that bad. Would they know the difference? You would have hoped so. But could they sense it's you in this body? Is that the reason why your armor moved so sluggishly? Was the Rat King trying to help you?

"You're right. We can't afford to take that chance." We. You look away, blinking hard as you try to focus on business once more.

"We need an organic bruiser," you say.

"Well, Dove is working with one," ${mhe} says after a moment's thought. "Armadillo I think their name is. Only met them once. Odd fellow, but definitely organic. Four arms would be helpful too."

*if thief

  "Dove." You sigh. Of course it would have to be that annoying thief, you've run into each other once or twice, competing for the same targets. You've never met her partner, but from what you have heard, Mortum is right. "She's not too fond of Retribution, maybe we can get a cheaper rate. I don't have access to much money right now."

*if streetwise

  "Dove." The name is familiar. A mercenary and thief, working for the highest bidder. From what you have heard about her partner, Mortum is right. "I hear she's expensive. I don't have access to much money right now."

  *comment ADD DOVE FACTS, DOUBLE CHECK

"We have an agreement," Mortum assures you. "I build and service her equipment, and in return, she steals things I need and does me the odd favor."

"You know a lot of people." Your smile is fond, right now that's playing in your favor.

"I have built equipment for villains for years, not to mention that I throw the best Halloween parties," ${mhe} says humbly.

"I'm not one for parties," you admit. "Nor networking."

"Oh I don't believe that, ${title}." Dr. Mortum smiles in encouragement. "You've just had the misfortune of being a henchman. Many villains do have preconceptions against the people that work for them, treats them like brainless, easily replaceable goons. Only room for one ego on stage, I suppose. It's only my status as an ex-villain that makes me palatable to them. If I had only been a humble scientist I doubt most of them would give me the time of the day."

"Their loss." Your smile is predatory.

"Indeed." Dr. Mortum's smile is an echo of yours.

"So the plan is to capture Retribution in your gun, transport them to..." You look at Dr. Mortum for suggestions. Not here I hope?" Right now this feels like your only safe space, you'd rather not have it compromised.

"No, I have a testing bay elsewhere, sometimes I need a secure and durable location for weapon's research. I can fit it with a mobile dampener, and the walls should be thick enough to contain Retribution long enough to remove their greatest weapon."

"Sounds logical." Most likely reinforced concrete and metal, both materials that takes some time for nanovores to digest as long as they are thick enough. "Underground?"

"Of course."

"That should do. And if they agree to help us, the others can wait there." You don't see any major flaws to this plan other than the fact that you have no idea what will happen when you finally meet your body face to face. But there is no way to predict that, you try to call up any trace of precognitive vision, but there's nothing. You're not sure if that is a good sign or bad. So far it has mostly triggered during disasters and stress, so you suppose it's mostly a good one. "Are you sure the gun still works?" It's the linchpin, you can't afford to leave that to chance.

"I haven't had time to service it yet," Dr. Mortum admits. "I've had a deadline on another project, so I've been keeping it in the vault. I need to give it a through examination before we set this plan in motion."

"The vault?" You rise to follow, and ${mhe} makes no move to dismiss you. "Got any other useful weapons in there?"

"Not many right now," ${mhe} says with a chuckle. "Like I told you, I had a deadline. Quite a large arms delivery to an old..." there is a tell-tale pause "...acquaintance. She's gearing up for war from the look."

"Anything that concerns us?" You don't ask for the name, you know ${mhe} won't give it to you."

"No, I gathered it was out of town business. A family affair. I didn't ask for details, she can be twitchy with people that know too much."

"Even you?" That's a surprise, you thought Dr. Mortum was above the petty bickering of villains.

"Especially me. She already suspects I know too much, but she can't be sure, and above all, she can't be sure I haven't stored what I know somewhere safe in the event of my death." There's a look of discomfort on ${mhis} face, and you resist the urge to ask what that is about.

"Sounds like a dangerous woman." You ponder who it might be, there are less high-profile women in the villain business, at least ones who might be interested in a load of weapons.

"All villains are," ${mhe} shrugs, but shoots you a glance that tells you to please stop digging. "And right now she's busy, so she's no concern of ours."

"Understood." You don't pry, though you really want to. Knowing what is going on is power, and right now you feel powerless enough already.

"Trust me, you're safer not knowing." Dr. Mortum punches in a code, letting the camera scan ${mhis} eyes, and the vault opens up before you.

Like ${mhe} said, it is mostly empty shelves. There are still some guns here, mostly energy based, small and handheld. For personal protection not assault. Standard ones too, though you suppose anybody interested in a weapon that fires bullets could find one cheaper elsewhere. So there must be other modifications that's not immediately apparent. Armored breastplates, what looks like a prototype force field generator with a strange protrusion attached, and, in a special case, the gun Dr. Mortum had been so desperate to regain.

"It doesn't look that imposing," you say as ${mhe} unlocks the case, removing the weapon.

"It's not supposed to." Dr. Mortum looks at the indicators at the side, a quietly pulsing light that's easy to overlook if you don't pay attention. "Use a spectacular weapon, and everybody will focus on that. Just look at Psychopathor, he'd have much better luck with some small and integrated blasters rather than those massive cannons he keeps lugging around."

"True," you admit as you exit the vault, the door sealing itself shut behind you. "Getting the gun away from him was always the first step to victory. Where are we going?"

"It's still full." ${mhe} gestures to the slowly blinking light on the side of the gun, nearly imperceptible if you don't know what you're looking for. "I figured I'd let whatever is there degrade a bit more before reconstituting it. Just to make sure no organics would pop up unexpectedly." ${mhe} chuckles. "I have no way of knowing when it was last used, but if anything was alive in there it should be dead by now."

*if villainy <= 30

  "Do you really think there was a risk that anything really was alive in there?" You hadn't even considered that, the thought makes you sick to your stomach. You hadn't known.

  "Unlikely. It probably was in storage for a while before the auction, if someone was in there, they would already have been scrambled."

  "Scrambled?" You put a hand over your mouth. You can't afford to show yourself to be too squeamish, but...

  "Yes. People last for a few days at most, but after a day or two they tend to be damaged beyond repair. Cellular degeneration."

*elseif villainy >= 70

  "It better be." You don't want anything to interfere with your plans, right now this is your best bet. You can't afford for it to fail.

  "It must have been in storage for a whole before the auction, and people last for a few days at most. After a day or two they tend to be... scrambled. Damaged. Non-viable."

*else

  "Oh." You feel a twinge of what might be guilt. "So if you had emptied right after the auction if someone was in there they might have lived?"

  "Hardly. People last for a few days at most, but after a day or two they tend to be... scrambled. Damaged. Putting them out of their misery would be a blessing."

"And you plan to use that on Retribution?" On your body? Suddenly you're less certain of this plan.

"Degradation doesn't set in until after at least twelve hours." Dr. Mortum sounds too certain for you to like it. "When we were testing the technology, Vitruvian made extensive research. No organic thing suffered damage if reconstituted within four hours. And up to twelve, the effects were nausea and migraine, no lasting damage."

"Animal research?" Your face is set in stone. You don't know if you want the answer to be yes or no.

"Mostly. Rats. Rabbits. Pigs. The species or weight didn't matter, nor did clothing." There is a pause, and a slightly disgusted look on ${mhis} face. "He did insist on testing it on humans as well."

"You sound like you didn't approve of that."

"Vitruvian was..." Dr. Mortum puts the gun down on the lab bench, looking at it with distaste. "He didn't think that humans were more than animals. He was a boost-supremacist, I trust you've heard of those?"

"Yes. The Green Sky. Cult of the New Flesh." Your mouth twitches. "Was he a member?"

"I never asked. Maybe I didn't want to know. There was a lot of things we never spoke of."

"Are you okay?" You can see Dr. Mortum's hands have clenched into fists, the unnatural tension finding no release. Nothing to punch.

"I am now. Just bad memories. He didn't react well when he learned I was 'only human,' he must have assumed my intellect was caused by boosting. But..." $!{mhe} shrugs. "He's dead, I'm still here. It's all in the past."

"People still don't know exactly what happened to him." You did your research before deciding to hire the good doctor. This had nearly made you walk back the deal. You're no fan of uncertainty, nor betrayal.

"I happened to him." A cold, controlled smile. "I can be forgiving up to a point, but... he crossed that line."

"Going back to the gun," you say, uneasily watching that smile. If you ever told Mortum the truth, would he decide you had crossed that line as well? That you needed to be removed? "So it is tested on humans then."

"Sadly, yes. Like Vitruvian said, we needed to know the limitations of it in case we might have to use it on people that mattered. And while a pig or an ape might be close enough in size or biological profile, we can't ask them, nor evaluate possible damage to their intellect."

"And?"

"Like I said, there were no problems if contained for a few hours, even upon repeated exposure. Somewhere around the ten to twelve hour mark the subjects reported suffering from nausea and headache, as well as diarrhea. I always suspected the latter was due to intestinal bacterial die-off, but we never studied it too extensively."

"It sounds almost like some form of systemic poison."

"We did suspect radiation poisoning at first." $!{mhe} rubs ${mhis} hand thoughtfully. "I was a part of a project dealing with radiation back during my..." ${mhe} paused. "During my time in the private sector. It is similar. But we could pick up no trace either before or after exposure."

"Cellular degradation?"

"Most likely. After a day or so in there, the damage was more severe. Blurred vision, progressing to eye damage. Detached corneas. Coughs, progressing to what looked like full chemical pneumonia. Internal bleeding. Organ failure. Brain hemorrhage. One subject was still alive after a week, but needed to be euthanized shortly after. I always suspected Vitruvian did the same with the other survivors."

"Suspected?"

"I never asked. It seemed... simpler at the time. I didn't have to decide what I felt about it if I ignored it."

*if villainy <= 30

  "Do you wish you had?" Your voice is soft, encouraging ${mhim} to be honest. With ${mhim}self, if not you.

  "Maybe. I... have done a lot of bad things in my life. Some might even call them cruel. Or evil."

*elseif villainy >= 70

  "It needed to be done. No use feeling bad about things you can't change." You know that to be the truth. People in your line of business can't afford to go soft.

  "Maybe you're right. It won't change anything, I suppose. I... have done a lot of bad things in my life. Some might even call them cruel. Or evil."

*else

  "I know what you mean." You've made your own painful decisions, and walking away from the consequences seemed the easier path. Nobody would be helped by you worrying about things that needed doing.

  "Thank you. I... have done a lot of bad things in my life. Some might even call them cruel. Or evil."

"You could use those terms for the LDPD. Cruelty is what this place is built on, no matter what side of the fence."

"That's one reason I stopped being an active villain" Dr. Mortum's gaze grew distant. "Too many temptations to take shortcuts no matter how many stands in the way. I like to see myself as ruthless and willing to do what needs to be done, not like Vitruvian. Not a monster. Though I suppose a monster's helper is not much better. I'm hardly reformed, you know."

"I'm working for Retribution," you admit with a shrug. "I'm hardly one to talk."

"True. And I suppose it doesn't matter much, what is done is done." $!{mhe} pauses long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable until you break it.

"So what do you think is in there?" You nod at the gun.

"Most likely whatever the person who used it last was trying to steal." There is a sigh of relief as the subject is changed at last. "Since the catch and release is the same trigger mechanism, I doubt that they can have been under the illusion that it really is a disintegration gun for long. If we are lucky, it might be something valuable. Inorganic matter doesn't degrade at nearly the same pace. Electronics might start to malfunction eventually, but even that takes weeks. We didn't test it beyond two weeks, but at that point things like base metals and money were as good as new. And everything else just needed minor repairs."

"And if we are unlucky?" you ask, pushing your hands into your pockets.

"A pile of decomposing organic goo, which is why I will be firing it into this test chamber." $!{mhe} motions with ${mhis}, and the polymer glasteel doors open. See-through. Strong. "I can quickly seal the chamber in case something gross pops out. The smell is quite atrocious, always reminded me of cat pee. I'd prefer to vent it before disposal."

"Ammonia." You wish your brain wouldn't fill in the scent. "I suppose broken down proteins might be blamed for that."

"Possibly. I never looked into it, our research was to establish parameters of safety, not pushing things too far."

"Fair enough. Did any of the people ever remember their time in there?" You can't help being curious. What would it be like?

"No. Just darkness. As if they had fainted. Which I suppose is for the best. A moment of lost time, followed by nausea."

"Once you've cleared the chamber, can we test it on something living before we do it on Retribution? I'd hate to have something go wrong." The more you hear, the more uneasy uneasy you get. But this is your best shot, so you need to know as much you can before setting the plan in motion.

"Of course. I'll just have to replace the power cell, it is almost depleted. I can't do that with the chamber filled, we don't want an explosion on our hands." ${mhe} looked thoughtful. "Or implosion, I suppose. I'm not sure exactly what would happen. Just that I don't want to be anywhere near it."

"Best to avoid that then. I suppose we're in no hurry, we still have to contact the others." You can feel the sand in the hourglass running. Time is running out, you know that. The only question is how fast.

"Don't worry, ${title}. I'll do that as soon as we clear this thing out. Please step back, this might get gruesome." Dr. Mortum aims the gun into the glasteel cube.

And then ${mhe} pulls the trigger.