Wincing as I stood up, I inspected my own body and then my surroundings. Both seemed similarly shoddy, creaky and derelict, having seen better days. The furniture and decorations looked as if they must have once been plush and upscale, though numerous gashes and gouges now defaced the wood paneling and several paintings – perhaps traces of some long-ago battle that once careened through these chambers. Dark, unpleasant-looking stains blemished several patches of wall and floor.

I wasn’t especially surprised, upon trying the door, to find that the knob would not turn. It was locked from the other side. Moreover, the portal was too heavy and stout to force, even with human muscles.

On the table, next to the candelabra, I did find a surprise. The shopping bag that I had been carrying when Wems knocked me out. Nearby were my purchases… the loaf of bread, the bundle of fruits. Then I noticed symbols, written in the thick dust. Next to the bread, some finger had traced a demmie-script glyph for safe. But the fruit that had smelled so fine came accompanied by a mark that stood for hallucinogen. (A much-too common and familiar emblem; demmies had never been shy about experimentation. Especially before human beings arrived, giving them an attractive alternative – the power to meddle on an interstellar scale.)

Nearby lay a tall and elegant (though chipped) carafe of water, plus an empty packet from one of our Alliance food-testing kits. So, Wems had cared enough to give me a choice. To not trust him and starve. To trust and eat something blandly nourishing. Or to seek escape down paths of illusion.

I picked up one of the yellow, banana-like orbs. It sure smelled good. And escape did have its attractions.

But frankly, I wasn’t tempted. Illusion is overrated. Anyway, this adventure was already stretching credulity. Bread and water would help anchor me. I’ve had better meals. And much worse.

Thank you, Wems. I’ll be sure to mention this at your court martial.

Energy restored, I began turning my thoughts to escape, starting with a thorough thumping of the walls. After all, this was just the sort of place to have hidden panels leading to secret passageways, right?

No luck with that. Exploring the room, I found that under peeling wallpaper lay plaster walls of stone-like hardiness. Even the primitive water closet was so-enclosed, ceiling to floor. Clearly, this place was built to hold prisoners… though I felt encouraged by letters that someone had scrawled, next to a jagged arrow aimed at the toilet.

YNGVI IS LOOSE!

At least, that’s how my pesty eye nanos translated the ragged scribble. I suspected their interpretation was… well… optimistic.

At last, pushing aside a set of heavy curtains, I discovered a set of double doors with cracked glass panes. Unlike the other portal, this one was unlocked! In fact, it gaped open to a wide, stone balcony. And beyond that, a nighttime cityscape.