Adventure Gamers - Forums

>n
You hold your breath and slip around the corner, out of the guards’ line of sight. And pause… and there is no cry of alarm. You exhale—silently—and stroll off to the north.

—glaring light…

[Hit any key.]


Interrogation Chamber (imprisoned in the chair)
You blink away memory. The dim room comes again into focus, and the man behind the desk.

“A streetcorner dazzler would be proud. You distract Mobile Three with the pushbutton; when they follow the noise, you walk up the corridor. Yes?”

>yes
“...and then they bring the pushbutton to Security’s attention.” He turns a palm out, displaying the silver rod in his hand. “And it looks, instead, a great deal like your lockpick. Not that they knew what it was at the time, of course. But we may as well correct the detail of which object you threw.” He touches a control.

...glaring light—

[Hit any key.]


Tee Junction
The white corridor runs east to west here, with a branch leading off to the north, and a closed metal door to the south. You can see that the east hall reaches a dead end a short distance away.

You hear footsteps somewhere to the north.

Ahh… so that’s how he got the lockpick.

Yes, I thought it odd that we’d throw what is probably our most important item.

Alright, once more with feeling.

>wait
Time passes.

The footsteps seem to be approaching.

>wait
Time passes.

The footsteps to the north grow louder.

>wait
Time passes.

The footsteps move out of a branch corridor to the north—a trio of guards, still heading this way. You dodge back out of their line of view, flattening yourself inside the west side of the tee.
 
>throw lockpick east
The lockpick clatters down the hall into the dead end.
 
“Did you hear that?” comes a voice from the north. “Sounded like it was coming from the wiring closet,” another guard says, a frown in his tone.

The footsteps begin to hurry. The three guards round the corner, and run down the east hall—without a glance at where you huddle in the western branch.

>n
You hold your breath and slip around the corner, out of the guards’ line of sight. And pause… and there is no cry of alarm. You exhale—silently—and stroll off to the north.

—glaring light…

[Hit any key.]


Interrogation Chamber (imprisoned in the chair)
You blink away memory. The dim room comes again into focus, and the man behind the desk.

“Very neat. Behind the backs of the guards, and leave them to mumble over the lockpick—not that they knew what it was at the time, of course. And you slip north into the core areas.”

>yes
“I assume you went straight to the lab, then?”

>z
You remain silent.

“Certainly you did. We both know your goal. Do you have any imagination? Do you realize what this technology will be used for?” He seems as astonished at the outburst as you.

>z
You remain silent.

“Oh, think about it. A fine time to be starting… ‘Clean War.’ No troops, no civilian blood. One man at a time, slipped into an office or a palace, beyond any hope of wall or guard. Or not even a man—a grenade, a canister of gas. The end,” wryly—“of security. I’d be out of a job.” His eyes are distant, and again you feel that you are the least important thing in the room.

“Bad enough if we get it first. We’ll take you apart, or just threaten to. Harsh but quick. It would be over, we’d have won. But if your people get it too, if you’d gotten out with the data, do you realize…?”

There’s not a whole lot of difference. This time, at least.

>yes
“Yes, suddenly the light shines on you. Knives at each other’s throats. How long could that last? Two years, five. Eventually it would be too tempting, some premier or on-commander who poses too much immediate threat.” Somehow his eyes are holding yours. “Then it would be literal knives at each other’s literal cursed throats. Whole governments beheaded overnight. Same for anyone who tries to move up, take charge. It wouldn’t end. Could you swear, honestly, that anyone left on your side wouldn’t keep using it on anyone left on our side? Senate-men? Troops? Farmers?”

>undo
Interrogation Chamber
[Previous turn undone.]

>no
“Look, then! Both sides! I know you can… Knives at each other’s throats. How long could that last? Two years, five. Eventually it would be too tempting, some premier or on-commander who poses too much immediate threat.” Somehow his eyes are holding yours. “Then it would be literal knives at each other’s literal cursed throats. Whole governments beheaded overnight. Same for anyone who tries to move up, take charge. It wouldn’t end. Could you swear, honestly, that anyone left on your side wouldn’t keep using it on anyone left on our side? Senate-men? Troops? Farmers?”

>z
You remain silent.

“Well, truly, think on that. If you can.” The man seems to put something aside. “Let’s continue. The lab.”

And I’ll post the “no” answer because I like it:

>no
There is a long pause; and then the man smiles… not at you. “And in spite of that, or anything—I march too. Let’s get back to that. The lab.”

...glaring light—

[Hit any key.]

Outside Laboratory
The corridor from the east ends here, and a single door looms to the west. It’s no larger than the doors you’ve seen elsewhere; but it somehow looks… heavy. Unyielding. Reinforcing struts cross the door’s face, and the surface is sheathed with some black coating.

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