We're Going In
With a few details finalized, we left the council tunnel and were invited to a meal in the dining hall. An old subway station was littered with odd tables and chairs; it’s murky tile and cement floor as clean as it would ever get.
“A common dining area?” questioned Acrylic under his breath.
“To keep order, you have to divvy up food fairly.” I replied drily.
“Ah, good old Maslow.” Acrylic nodded.
We seated ourselves around a couple small tables, C:\ taking care to seat himself with us, knowing how things would go down with the regulars if he didn’t.
People in frayed brown coats and fingerless gloves meandered in. Many cast wary glances our way. Some recognize me and grinned, others frowned.
“They don’t look too pleased.” Fetus remarked.
“News travels fast here.” We ate under the hum of contained excitement and failing flourescent bulbs. When all were seated, C:\ stood. Instant quiet.
“All resources are needed immediately to aid Elsha’s renegade band. The rumors are true. We’re going in.”