The Retrieval Mission
{Our reluctant fellow peers at himself in a bathroom mirror, preparing his worker's jumpsuit and soft cap. He tries to tone down the vibrant purple colour of the jumpsuit, but it doesn't seem to want to change. Ugh. He supposes it's better than if he were in his yellow aspect.
Mussing his already messy hair a bit and going through his mental script, he exits the bathroom and makes his way towards the Blue Door. He passes through it, pushing past the usual pre-placed teleports and squeezes himself through the tiny invisible passageway to the White-Panelled Room.
Its surgical cleanliness hits him hard. Being used to the musty office full of its warm paper and plastic smells, the cold, stony whiteness is disorienting. He lands, taking on a proper physical weight. He's in Her domain, now. She may not be a Narrator, but she's this place's equivalent of. What had He called her? An 'A.I.'? Do those really exist, now? He's momentarily distracted by this marvellous new idea; Robots!! Computers who could talk and think and maybe even feel!! What an excellent idea for a story!
Ah. But there's no time for that; there's work to be done. And besides, He said She was dangerous. He has to get past the whimsical ideas of talking robotics and acknowledge the very real possibility that this 'A.I.' could and probably would try to harm him somehow. He has to convince Her of his story. She manipulates thoughts and emotions apparently… But he's dealt with that before. He scowls. There's no need for him to pretend to resent his 'boss'.
He decides to return the radio. He can probably make his own, now… maybe… In any case, he hooks his fingers into his chest-stripe and pulls it neatly apart. He reaches into his chest cavity and removes the large, clunky radio. He places it back in its rightful place, polishes it a little and removes a dent, then tunes it back to its appropriate station.}
