Phase Q/The Plan
You close off the intercom connection. The remnant noise of the board members snaps off abruptly. Instead of hearing their plans, your mind is now free to focus on the construction of your own. What will you do?
Well, first of all, you have to figure out how to survive. With the Delta Plan in place, your future is in doubt, no matter how you feel. All people who have ever accessed a Flowriser ref, even accidentally, will have a squad of thugs tracking them down. Like animals. Like dirty, lowly animals.
While your body hungers for a survival game plan, your higher executive functions search out opportunity vol for possible ways around, jumps, short circuits. You struggle to formulate something reasonablistic, as your body keeps dragging you back to right lightin' now.
A ceramic plate slams down to the ground, shattering into fragments. The noise jolts you from your thoughts. A surge of fear rushes through you. It’s too quick! They just announced the operation, how could they already have found you?
Looking around, you climb out the back door, and rush out into the alley. Running through the streets, every stimulus sends you into a new surge of fear and energy. Like an animal, you sniff your way through blurry scenes and unknown people.
Finally, after what feels like hours, although may have only been minutes or seconds for all you know, you see a store front. For some reason, it seems inviting. You don’t know whether you’re walking into a trap, but you’re running out of time anyway. Might as well choose where you go.
With all the hubbub of the street fading out behind you, you make your way into the shop. A woman greets you, slim fingers extending outward. She has an attractiveness, in her smooth and elegant features, yet she’s clearly harrowed and not in the prime of her reproductive years. With steely eyes tinged with fear, she pulls you inward.
“Welcome home.” The woman’s hands feel cold, yet comforting. You relax a little as she draws you closer, and you even share some of your fresh warmth with her.
“Thanks, thank you, I, uh–” you mutter, catching your breath.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
Struggling between telling her what you know or regaining your cool, you blurt out what you can of your story. You tell her about the unanimous vote for the Delta Plan.
“That’s terrible,” she says, obviously taken aback. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll get the word out. There’s not much time. We’ll have to clear out of this space tonight.”
Your remaining energy starts to drain. So much for a night’s sleep and a chance to analyze your options. It’s time for action.
Dumping out the contents of your bag, you sort through them: what must go, what must stay, and what may have some value for someone else.
The woman shows you to a couch in a storage room. “You can rest her for a few hours before we go. By the way, my name’s Natalya.”
Phase Q: An interactive adventure.
