STORY: “Quantum duplication. Schroedinger’s cat.”
STORY: “Both cats.” Tux shakes his head.
STORY: He holds his head in his hands, still shaking. “Both cats are alive.”
ALEJO: “That the cat in the box that dies but doesn’t? I have no idea what that means. Never got it.” He tries to meet Tux’s eyes and smiles.
ALEJO: “What the hell does that mean?”
STORY: He grabs your hands, looking at you in a panic. “They’re both alive. Soto. They made copies of us.”
STORY: Then looks down at the paper. “And no one knows. Which means…”
STORY: “No one’s coming for us. Ever.”
STORY: We left our hero scrubbing a toilet.
ALEJO: Alejo finishes scrubbing at a particularly nasty bit in the bowl. He stands and stretches his lower back.
STORY: Your first day in Purgatory, as you overhear it called, is uneventful. Ann walks you through the rotation for that day, which repeats every ten days. It’s six bathrooms and four galleys, all on different decks. Let’s have Assessment + Mettle
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
ALEJO: DicebotAPP 7:57 PM
ALEJO: @Alejo rolled 10 + 2 = 12
STORY: You’re able to work out a pretty good mental map of the area from tracking where Ann takes you. There are holes in it, certainly, but you’re confident you could get back to any of the areas you’ve been to without any issues. You can have a data point for the geography here – but use it this session or I’ll forget about it.
STORY: The base has a not insignificant security presence, but you see few other people. It’s impossible to tell what time it is, since the lighting doesn’t change at all during the day, but you suspect you may be working while others on the base sleep. It would make sense, janitorial and maintenance staff can get more done if the areas aren’t in operation while they’re working. In the areas you’re shown to you identify a dozen different security guards and five maintenance workers. You’re pretty sure the four of you are the only janitors, though you work alone and not alongside any of them.
STORY: At the end of what you guess is about fifteen hours, Ann picks you up to show you to your quarters. She retrieves a shrink-wrapped package from a locker, plops it in your arms, and types in a code to open your door. “6448. That’s your personal code, don’t share it with anyone. Got it?”
ALEJO: Alejo nods.
STORY: The door slides open, revealing a closet-sized room with two thin panels that you assume fold out into bunks.
STORY: She nods back and leaves.
ALEJO: “Cozy,” he mutters after she’s gone.
ALEJO: Is Alejo locked in?
ALEJO: And just so I have a sense, is this a big station or sort of tight and small?
STORY: You turn back to open the door and find out and it slides open on its own. Tux steps in, beaming and immediately pulling you into a bear hug. “I’m so goddamn happy to see you, Soto.”
ALEJO: Alejo is startled at first, but after a tight moment, he hugs Tux back enthusiastically.
STORY: He holds onto you, squeezing both your arms and digging his face into your shoulder, and you realize he’s crying.
STORY: He pulls back, wiping his nose. “Shit, sorry. God. It’s been a lot.”
STORY: He gestures. “Sit down, I’m sure you have questions.”
ALEJO: He smiles softly. Then nods. And sits. “You know. Maybe a few.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
STORY: The base seems pretty tight, no huge open spaces to speak of, everything’s optimized for fitting together nicely. Reminds you of a ship, but you’re certain you’re not on a ship, because there are no visible portholes and you can’t detect the sound or rumble of an engine.
STORY: Tux sits on the floor opposite you, laying his arms over his knees. “Well. This is Purgatory, which you probably heard already. It’s some kinda… penal colony. We don’t really know. Talking about that kind of thing is kinda frowned upon here.”
STORY: He puts up a hand. “And before I give you the wrong idea, ‘frowned upon’ really means ‘public execution’ so we don’t talk about any of this outside of this room, you get me?”
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows at this but gives an acknowledgement after a moment.
ALEJO: “Got it.”
ALEJO: Then he raises his hand.
STORY: “Yeah.”
ALEJO: “Quick clarification. Uhmm. How do they execute us? ’Cause, I mean, maybe I’m missing something really big, but I think we’re both fucking dead!”
STORY: “Ha, ha. Yeah, I get it, that’s why they call it Purgatory. But it’s not a joke, they usually line us all up and use the incinerator. You know, that thing you’ve been throwing trash down to all day. Okay, so,” he holds up his hands, like he’s trying to physically organize his thoughts. “Penal colony, or something. I’ve talked to a handful of people I trust, and it sounds like we were all snatched from space flights – you too?”
ALEJO: Alejo furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Maybe?” he finally says, hesitantly. “I honestly . . . ” He shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t know.”
STORY: He nods. “It might get clearer in a few days. I think they must use something to knock us out, everybody’s foggy about exactly how they got here. I don’t know what we’re doing here, no one really does. I only know the janitors and maintenance staff, they keep us segregated from whatever the rest of the base is working on. But – I think… this is gonna sound crazy, Soto.”
STORY: “I think we’re stealing babies. You’ll see – on the rotation in three days, we’re going to be cleaning rooms that – well, there’s nothing to make it absolutely for sure, but I think they’re nurseries.”
STORY: “The placement of the receptacles, padded hip-height tables too small to hold an adult, and speakers – not the regular intercoms, rigs to play music.”
STORY: “I’d think maybe just a smaller species, but I’ve only ever seen humans here.”
ALEJO: He grimaces. “Babies.” He says this flatly. He stands and paces, which is like a step and then a turn and a step, just avoiding Tux on the floor.
ALEJO: “Did we tell you about the absolutely fucked up medieval nightmare world we landed on after Noma wild jumped us?” He’s talking fast and quiet. “There was a dragon space ship with babies on it.”
ALEJO: He stops, realizing how stupid that sounds. He looks at Tux and smiles.
STORY: “Did you – no, I mean. I haven’t seen you in years. We who?”
STORY: “Wait, what? You found a ship with babies on it?”
ALEJO: “Wait, what? Years?” He shakes his head. “I mean, I know it feels like years anytime you don’t see me.” He smiles.
ALEJO: “Yeah, babies. On a dragon fucking spaceship. It was crazy. And I’m not even making it up.”
STORY: “I don’t want to call us old, Soto, but yeah. It’s been, what, four years since Virmire?”
STORY: “And I’ve been here… longer than I’d like to count. 800 days, give or take.”
STORY: “I wonder if your babies and my babies are related.”
ALEJO: He turns and starts his step-pacing again. “The population on this planet had to be transplanted there. . . ” He stops mid-sentence and looks at Tux.
ALEJO: “Virmire. Tux, what do you last remember. Before this place?”
STORY: He sighs. “I was on my way to this planet to do some research, I’d been picking up chatter about weird signals in the brainwaves of sleeping people, in places that made no sense. There’s a planet where these creatures can lucid dream, like they basically live inside lucid dreams? I thought they could help me start to make sense of the data.”
STORY: “New Vesta, it was called.”
STORY: He shrugs. “No idea what happened, I must have been intercepted.”
ALEJO: Alejo’s eyes widen.
ALEJO: “I don’t want to, ahh, Tux, tell me how we first met. What’d you say to me?”
ALEJO: Alejo is smiling, but he blades his body, preparing for a possible fight.
STORY: He raises an eyebrow. “I think I propositioned you, if I remember correctly. What’s going on, Soto?”
STORY: He stands, confused but recognizing that stance in you.
STORY: He sets his jaw. “I told you I needed you to have a drink with me, because this woman at the bar wouldn’t leave me alone. You knew it was a lie and had one with me anyway.”
STORY: “What’s going on?”
ALEJO: Alejo visibly relaxes, his shoulders falling and he sits.
ALEJO: “Buddy . . . I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re missing time. A lot of time. And . . . ” He looks down. “Time.”
STORY: “Huh?”
ALEJO: “I don’t understand what’s going on here. But you made it to New Vesta. We reunited there. You helped me and my crew — Millie, Tueller — you helped us. You took in Erwin?” He’s looking at Tux now, watching for any signs of recognition.
STORY: He’s raising an eyebrow and clearly thinks you’re crazy. “Soto, are you… maybe they tried something new grabbing you. Sit down, I’m gonna get you some water.”
STORY: He moves to a wall panel, pushes it inward, and it swings open – revealing a small sink with two plastic cups inside. He fills one up.
ALEJO: “It’s not me, Tux. The Weave? The Grell? Blackhat? You’re telling me you don’t remember any of this?”
STORY: “Blackhat? That roaming station where all the dirty shit gets stored?”
ALEJO: “Yeah, you took Erwin there and got yourself stuck in a game. We came and rescued you.” He cringes a little. “And lost Sweet.” He looks down again. “I mean, he’s alive. Just . . . broken.”
STORY: “Erwin who?”
ALEJO: Alejo shakes his head and takes a long, deep breath. “Your son. Well, adopted. A Grell.”
STORY: Tux laughs. “I do not have any kids, Soto. I’d remember that.”
STORY: “Look,” he points to the panel just above his bunk, where there are hundreds of tiny, scratched-on tally marks.
STORY: “Eight hundred days, Soto. I don’t know who you were traveling with, but it wasn’t me.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks.
ALEJO: Alejo smiles wearily. “Well, something is seriously fucked here. Either you don’t remember, or I’ve got a whole shitload of fake memories that are very, very real.”
STORY: “Fake memories? Shit. Shit, that would explain some things.”
STORY: “Hang on.” He opens another panel, sliding it over and retrieving a small notepad and pencil. He flips through the pages, all covered in notes and numbers, looking for the right section.
STORY: “Fuck,” he says, putting that pad away and grabbing another, leafing through that one.
ALEJO: “Tueller Ya’Makasi. You know him. You remember him, right? Millie Breedlove. The Doctor you had a major crush on but who I love? I mean, whatever. I don’t know, it’s complicated. Anyway, you remember her, right.”
STORY: “What? No. You’re in love? That’d be new, Soto,” he smiles, continuing to look through his notes.
ALEJO: Alejo laughs easily at this. Then he sits next to Tux, looking over at the notes.
STORY: It’s all in his distinct and hard to read chicken scratch, notes about memories of other staff, suspicions, observations, theories.
STORY: He shakes his head. “I can’t find it. Fucky fuck fuck.”
ALEJO: “Jesus, man. Where’s your tinfoil hat.” He bumps Tux playfully.
STORY: “Soto, you’ve literally been disappeared and put to work as a janitor on some kind of… mystery underground base, is my guess. It’s tinfoil hat time.”
STORY: “Two of the maintenance team, they knew each other. From before they were snatched. And… ah!”
STORY: He finds the page.
ALEJO: Alejo stands. “You’re not wrong.” He starts to step-pace again.
STORY: “They didn’t match up. One of them remembered things the other didn’t. They came a few months apart, so I thought it was just… PTSD, or something. But if Shea was right, if she really did spend that two months still with Burto, then – then what?”
STORY: “Are they leaving imitations behind? Are they implanting memories?”
STORY: He shakes his head. “Fuck. I knew this was going to get dangerous, I just didn’t realize… so soon.”
ALEJO: Alejo keeps pacing, watching Tux.
STORY: He takes a deep breath. “Listen, I need your help.”
STORY: “There’s a room, a server room. I need a look at those machines. You can get into places.”
ALEJO: “I was hoping you were going to say that. I feel very Tueller-twitchy. I gotta do something.”
STORY: “If they catch us, Soto, we’re both dead. Remember Shea and Burto? They went to the Director, said they didn’t understand, asked questions. He fed them both to the furnace.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “So, we don’t get caught.”
STORY: “And look, before you go risking your life for anything, I need you to know.” He shakes his head and swallows. “You’re not here entirely by accident.”
ALEJO: He stops. He holds his breath and just looks at Tux, waiting.
STORY: He sighs. “I got into the system once before. It’s all wired locally, so I knew I only had a couple seconds to look around, to try to figure out what was…” He shakes his head again.
STORY: “I found an input, it asked for a UUID. I remembered yours, from… I mean.”
ALEJO: “It’s okay. Just tell me.”
STORY: “So I think I put you in the candidate list, or something.”
STORY: “I told the system to keep you if you came up on their radar. Because I needed someone… to help me get out of here.”
STORY: He looks at the floor, exhaling long and slow. “I’m sorry, Soto. I didn’t know what else to do.”
ALEJO: Alejo smiles softly. Then he just goes over to Tux and gives him a huge hug. This time, it’s Alejo who tears up, one or two slipping out despite his best efforts.
ALEJO: After a long moment, he pulls back. “There’s no place in the entire Universe I’d rather be. Let’s figure out what the fuck is going on.” He wipes his cheek, smiles, and moves towards the door.
STORY: Tux looks relieved.
STORY: “Shit, now?”
STORY: He scrambles after you.
ALEJO: “Stay close. Do what I tell you exactly when I tell you. Got it?”
ALEJO: He doesn’t wait for an answer, and opens the door, scanning the hallway quickly.
STORY: He nods. “We need to get to deck 3, the rear area – behind – did you clean the gall– oh come on.”
STORY: He follows you silently.
ALEJO: Time for some sneaky shit!
STORY: Yeah! FA + Mettle please
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
ALEJO: ablair01 rolled 5 + 2 = 7
STORY: You can make your way down, but you get lost first and spend longer than you’d feel comfortable out in the open. You can’t be totally sure you’re not seen.
STORY: You don’t catch sight of any cameras, but the security posts are closer than you’d like to be taking a non-spy with you.
ALEJO: Does Alejo have his implants working? Does he know?
STORY: They do work, as far as you know!
STORY: You make it down to the door and Tux takes two items out of his pocket – a long ball of string and a slip of paper with some code written on it in his chicken scratch.
STORY: “Okay, here’s the idea,” Tux whispers, looking back and forth down the hallway. “There’s no wireless in here, so you take the ball and unwind it as you go – I’ll stand watch and tug on it if we have to abort. We’re doing this old school. If I send the abort, don’t come out the way you came – I’ll get myself out of here, you do the same. Some other way.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods, impressed.
STORY: “Behind this door, it’s big. Goes up and down, and back – deep. There are a lot, a lot of machines on this base. I have no idea what they’re doing. That’s the idea of you getting in there.”
STORY: “The number of the machine you’re looking for is up there, on top – MW2240. Once you get there, you should have an open prompt, there’s no security to speak of here. Enter that code, print screen, find the printout – it’ll be at one of the nearby docks – and get me back that piece of paper. Got it?”
STORY: “That’s it. Easy peasy.”
ALEJO: He smiles. “Don’t . . . ” He trails off for a moment. “Get caught. Okay?”
STORY: Tux squeezes your hand. “You do the same. Or don’t do the same. You know what I mean.”
ALEJO: He turns and enters the room, taking the string.
STORY: It’s dark, and vast, in here. It smells sterile and metallic. You doubt very much that any human has been in here in months, maybe years.
STORY: Screens punctuate the wall roughly every 3 meters, and ladders lead up 5, maybe 6 stories, all with similar layouts – small two-foot-wide balconies in front of more rows and rows of screens. They’re on both sides of this hallway, and you look down another direction and see more and more. There must be thousands of machines running here.
STORY: They all click and buzz silently, doing who knows what kind of work.
STORY: Massive fans turn in the ceiling, and below you in the floor, keeping a moderate breeze going up throughout the entire space, carrying the hot air out and letting fresh cool air in. Your hair dances in the wind it creates.
ALEJO: “Fuck me,” Alejo mutters, very quietly. He moves to a ladder and starts up it, testing his speed, while remaining silent, or as silent as he possibly can.
STORY: Let’s do this as an Assessment + Mettle and see how quickly you can find the right console.
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
ALEJO: ablair01 rolled 7 + 3 = 10
STORY: You have a good feeling for how things are organized here, having been paying attention to the geography earlier in the day, and find the console you’re looking for relatively quickly – three stories up, halfway down one of the long rows.
STORY: You also gain another data point for this heist!
STORY: What do you do?
ALEJO: He enters the code.
STORY: FA + Interface please!
ALEJO: /roll 2d6
ALEJO: ablair01 rolled 8
STORY: All right! You get the code entered and follow Tux’s instructions, and you’re just looking for the local printer when the ball is yanked out of your pocket by someone tugging the other end.
ALEJO: “Fuckey Fucker fuck,” Alejo mutters, quickly assessing the space and listening for any people entering. He drops low and keeps moving, looking urgently for that printer.
STORY: You catch sight of it – one row down, just finishing up printing the page.
STORY: You also see a door slide open below you.
ALEJO: Alejo moves swiftly to the printer, grabbing the printout as soon as it’s done. He tries, at the same time, to keep as much of an eye on that door as he can, watching for whatever threat is coming through it.
STORY: You grab the paper just as a security guard enters through the door.
STORY: He leans over and picks up something from the ground. Fuck! It’s the string.
STORY: He pulls it, looking up towards you as he traces its line.
STORY: What do you do?
STORY: You don’t think he’s seen you yet.
ALEJO: Drop the string, if possible to the lower deck — two — and move quickly away, looking for some other exit.
STORY: FA + Mettle for this escape!
ALEJO: — other data point!
ALEJO: /roll 2d6 + 3
ALEJO: ablair01 rolled 6 + 3 = 9
STORY: Okay, you scuttle out, climbing up and catching sight of another door, which you quickly dart toward and see another keypad next to. Did you watch Tux when he entered the number before?
ALEJO: Of course
ALEJO: I’m a spy!
STORY: Okay! Then you know the passcode.
ALEJO: Alejo enters it, and stands to the side, wary of what might be on the other side and preparing for the worst.
STORY: It opens to an empty hallway.
STORY: You’re pretty close to your quarters.
ALEJO: Alejo quickly touches his heart and then his lips and then raises his hand to the air in thanks, and runs, checking corners, to his quarters.
STORY: You enter your code and the door slides open. It’s empty inside. Just as you register this, a droning buzz goes off across the base once, twice, a third time.
STORY: “Attention. All staff please gather in the main cargo area immediately. Thank you.”
ALEJO: Alejo folds up the paper, looks quickly for the best hiding spot, settles on keeping it with him, slips off his shoe, quickly, stuffs it inside of his sock at the bottom, puts his shoe back on, and then stumbles out of his quarters, pretending that he’s just been roused from sleep.
STORY: You’re able to figure out where the main cargo area is by following the crowds, who all gather in lines more or less clumped together by function. You spot Jai, your fellow janitor, and find a place next to him. He looks unhappy to be there, as do most of the people around you, most of whom were either just starting their shifts or asleep.
STORY: He nods to you. “First day go okay?”
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “Some people need to learn to pee in the actual toilet. But yeah. Fine. Thanks for asking!”
ALEJO: “Any idea what this is all about? I was sleeping like a baby.”
STORY: He nods again. “Try not to let this color your opinion of life here. It’s usually pretty uneventful.”
STORY: Suddenly, everyone in the room stands at attention and faces front.
STORY: The Director has entered, and he nods to the group. There are close to 50 people in this room, you estimate.
ALEJO: Alejo delays, intentionally, for just a moment before coming to attention. He straightens up.
STORY: “Sad news today,” the Director announces. “We must say goodbye to one of ours. A breach was detected, in the server area, which you all know is off-limits to staff. A determination is being made of what if anything was accessed, but we do know the culprit and have captured them. My commitment to your safety, as always, remains paramount.”
STORY: The crowd murmurs in approval and agreement, and you get the feeling they’re encouraged to feel this way rather than such a thing happening organically.
ALEJO: Alejo murmurs with them, but watches the Director very carefully.
STORY: “Officers, bring out the condemned.” The Director turns to an open door and gestures to his security forces. As a figure emerges from the door, you sense someone moving in just behind you. Tux coughs in your ear, then whispers, low, “don’t do anything.”
STORY: You recognize the figure being brought out – it’s Ann, the head of janitorial, the woman who showed you around today.
STORY: She looks sleepy, confused. She’s weeping, objecting, pulling against the two guards who hold her arms tightly.
ALEJO: Alejo takes an easy breath. He does not look at Tux.
STORY: “Please, what is going on! I was asleep! I have NO IDEA what’s going on here!”
STORY: You can hear Tux’s breathing quicken, rattle a bit. He’s definitely crying behind you, but keeping it together.
ALEJO: Alejo’s jaw tightens. His eyes remain focused on the Director. He doesn’t watch Ann at all.
STORY: The execution is unpleasant, if tidy. They lead Ann to a circular pad on the floor, she continuing to wail the whole time, then step back. The Director reads a short official-sounding statement as she wails. You can barely hear him over her screamed objections, her insistence on innocence. The Director finishes his spiel, then gestures delicately to one of his security guards, who pushes a button on the panel in front of him.
STORY: The floor opens up under Ann and she vanishes, screaming the whole way down.
STORY: The trapdoor closes. The Director takes his place where Ann had stood a moment earlier. “If anyone has any information about what happened this morning, please come to me. Loyalty, as always, will be rewarded. Disloyalty is unacceptable.”
STORY: He nods. “Dismissed.”
STORY: The entire proceeding took less than a minute. It was clinical. No one in the room objected, or moved. It was as if they had all seen this before, so many times before that they’re numb to it.
STORY: As soon as the door to your room slides shut, Tux collapses to his knees.
STORY: “Jesus, jesus, no. Fuck, no.”
STORY: “I didn’t realize, Soto, fuck, I didn’t realize.”
STORY: “Poor, poor Ann. She didn’t – she – she..” He’s trying to explain, and has nothing.
ALEJO: Alejo puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He says softly. Then he sits, takes off his shoe, and removes the paper. He unfolds it, giving Tux a moment, before finally handing it to him. “Let’s make her sacrifice worth it.”
STORY: He drops his head and sits on his feet, slumped over. “She told me her code. So I could get in one morning after curfew. After I’d been with her.”
STORY: “And I just used it to burn her up. Fuck.” He shakes his head, wipes his eyes.
STORY: He looks down at the paper, then his face goes white.
ALEJO: “This place burned her up. The Director burned her up. You are just trying to get the fuck out of this . . . Purgatory.”
ALEJO: “What? What is it?”
ALEJO: Alejo sees his change of expression. He moves to look at the paper.
STORY: He looks up at you, his hand shaking, and hands you the paper. It’s written in code you don’t understand, you can’t make any sense of it.
STORY: >{\displaystyle {\displaystyle U|\psi \rangle _{A}|e\rangle _{B}=|\psi \rangle _{A}|\psi \rangle _{B}},}
STORY: “Quantum duplication. Schroedinger’s cat.”
STORY: “Both cats.” He shakes his head.
STORY: He holds his head in his hands, still shaking. “Both cats are alive.”
ALEJO: “That the cat in the box that dies but doesn’t? I have no idea what that means. Never got it.” He tries to meet Tux’s eyes and smiles.
ALEJO: “What the hell does that mean?”
STORY: He grabs your hands, looking at you in a panic. “They’re both alive. Soto. They made copies of us.”
STORY: Then looks down at the paper. “And no one knows. Which means…”
STORY: “No one’s coming for us. Ever.”
ALEJO: Alejo’s eyes are fixed on Tux. Camera fades.
—
STORY: So. Is it plausible he’d settle in for a year and just try to be a good friend to Tux?
ALEJO: Hmm, I doubt it. I mean, he will try to be a good friend to Tux. But he’s not likely to sit idle for a year. I think, after what they discovered from the printout, that he’ll try to learn more.
STORY: Ok, what would Alejo have done, knowing Tux was out for any shenanigans?
STORY: He’s very broken by having gotten his sometime girlfriend killed.
ALEJO: Alejo will keep him clear of shenanigans, at least for a long while. Instead, he’ll just be a friend. ALEJO: Alejo’s already got a decent sense of the place, but he’ll keep exploring it and nail down as much of the station as he can. He’ll also start trying to figure out how people get on and off of the station. And, he’ll try to discover as much as he can about the Director.
STORY: I like to think Tux and Alejo have a very lived-in, intimate friendship that is also not sexual at all, since they either already tried that or didn’t, but either way that’s not their path
STORY: They’re just very comfortable loving each other and that’s all
ALEJO: Agreed.
STORY: Okay. How does he try to find out how people get on the station?
ALEJO: He does some sneaking, both when he’s cleaning and when he’s “off.” And he counts the people whenever there are the sorts of group gatherings like the execution of Tux’s sometime girlfriend. He keeps track of new faces and counts how many people leave, trying first to get a sense of patterns. Are there times when more people seem to arrive or leave? If he can find such a pattern, he starts sneaking especially hard during those times, trying to follow someone to see where they go, thinking that they will lead to the exit.
STORY: Okay, that sounds like an Expertise roll, give me FA + Expertise
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
ALEJO: DicebotAPP 11:09 PM
ALEJO: @Ryo rolled 5 + 1 = 6
STORY: You try to find an entrance or exit. What you find is a machine you don’t understand, but you witness it in operation as a complete, nude, adult human emerges from it and is quickly shuffled away by other crew members. You see that person again at the next execution. They’re in security blue.
ALEJO: Ohhh. Poor Alejo!
ALEJO: He will be very distant and quiet for a few days.