by HL TRUSLOVE
Tucked under the end of the sleeping mat is a book. You fish it out carefully, trying not to disturb any eight-legged occupants, and take a look.
Read the book – Turn to 25.14, Needs Old World Language.
* * *
Try to read the book – Turn to 25.15.
25.6
You squat and look at the skeleton. It seems a bit morbid, to be honest, but you suppose that’s just your sensibilities about life. The skeleton just keeps on smiling at you, not caring that they’re dead.
The clothes have held up surprisingly well, and it’s with a sick sense you realise they’re wearing a badge.
A vault badge.
It’s not yours, the flag isn’t right for them to have been from your country. You don’t know enough about vexillology to guess where the skeleton came from. You feel a strange moment of kinship with them; they were probably one of the first explorers out here.
There’s nothing you can do for them now, though.
Add Vault Badge (F.25) to your notebook.
* * *
Try to operate the Radio Tower – Turn to 25.7.
* * *
Try to operate the Radio Tower – Turn to 25.10, Needs Radio for Idiots.
25.6G
You squat and look at the skeleton. It seems a bit morbid, but you suppose that’s just your sensibilities about life. The skeleton just keeps on smiling at you, not caring that they’re dead.
The clothes have held up surprisingly well, and it’s with a sick sense that you realise they’re wearing a badge.
A vault badge.
It’s not yours, the flag isn’t right for them to have been from your country. You don’t know enough about vexillology to guess where the skeleton came from. You feel a strange moment of kinship with them; they were probably one of the first explorers out here.
“He was an explorer. Like us.”
Gaia peeks over your shoulder, not as comfortable around the skeleton as you are, and you feel her shiver.
“We’ll be like that one day.”
It isn’t a comforting thought. You don’t remember Gaia being this morbid before. Then again, she’s had a lot of reasons to think about death recently.
“We should bury them,” she says, before you have time to reply.
“Really?”
“Well, if I was them, I’d want someone to bury me.”
You look back at the grinning skull. Yes, you can understand that.
Add Vault Badge (F.25) to your notebook.
* * *
Bury the skeleton – Turn to 25.9.
* * *
Try to operate the Radio Tower – Turn to 25.7.
* * *
Try to operate the Radio Tower – Turn to 25.10, Needs Radio for Idiots.
25.7
There’s another chair in the corner of the room, covered in cobwebs and missing a wheel, but you bring it over to the control panel anyway. You don’t feel comfortable using a dead person’s chair.
You sit down and look at the dusty control panel, and realise you don’t really have any idea how to use this. You were never trained on using this sort of machinery before you left, and you never bothered to learn. Now you’re cursing your past self, wishing you’d had the drive to bother. It might just be your downfall.
Ask Gaia – Turn to 25.8, Needs Gaia in Tow OR Gaia’s Badge.
* * *
Try to work out how to operate the panel – Turn to 25.11.
25.8
You look once again at the sprawling control panel, each button a mystery you have no real idea how to crack. It’s starting to all seem very bleak.
“Gaia, do you have any idea how to work this?”
Gaia snaps to attention from where she’d been staring out the window at the tower itself. There’s a long moment as she inspects the system.
“I could give it a go. I used to operate the radio when we were on the ship; I don’t think it can be that much different.”
Of course! How could you have forgotten that? All those days at sea with Gaia twisting knobs and trying to get a signal had completely left your mind. To be fair, though, you’ve had other things to think about.
You clear space and Gaia takes your seat. She hums to herself as her hands skirt over the buttons, as if she’s warming up to play some sort of instrument, and then she starts her work. Knowing there’s nothing useful you can do, you sit down in the corner of the room, clearing up the dust from the area you intend to occupy for however long this takes.
It’s a little bit like watching magic. You can’t really keep up with what she’s doing, but she’s clearly an expert. Every now and then she swears and bangs something with the palm of her hand, and you’re not sure if it’s to get it working or out of frustration. In fact, there’s a sort of rhythm to what she’s doing, and soon you find yourself drifting away. It’s nice not to have to be the one in charge.
You aren’t sure how long you’re asleep, but you’re woken by Gaia shouting your name. You bolt upright and scrabble for something to use as a weapon, but stop when you see the excitement in her eyes and hear the crackling of the radio. It’s fuzzy, and it’s pitchy, but it’s a voice you thought you’d never hear again.
Mari.
You spring up and run over to the radio station.
“Mari?” you shout down the microphone. Gaia’s crying. You almost want to as well, just from sheer relief. Mari says your name with a laugh.
“You’re there too! My god, we thought we’d never hear from either of you again.”
“Me neither,” you choke.
“I’m glad you’re all right. Or well, alive. Look, you need to get back to camp. I’ll give you our coordinates, so be ready to write them down.”
You scramble to get your map out of your bag and scrawl down what Mari tells you, once on paper, and once on the back of your hand just in case.
“All right, stay where you are; we’ll be there as soon as we can,” you say, and it comes out as a laugh because you’re ecstatic. You wonder if you should talk to Mari for longer, but you’re both quite keen to have you back with the group and don’t want to delay.
“Be safe,” are Mari’s last words. Grinning, you turn to Gaia. There are streaks in the dirt on her cheeks from the lines her tears have made. The two of you throw your arms around each other.
“It’s time to go home,” she tells you.
END.
Add The Reunion (Chapter 29, L.29) to map.
* * *
Go to The Reunion (Chapter 29).
25.9
“All right,” you sigh, “but I don’t have a shovel.”
“Me neither.”
“Well, it looks like digging a grave is out of the question.” You don’t fancy using your hands to do that.
“All right, well, let’s at least lay them outside. It seems a bit sad that this room is their coffin.”
You can agree with that, at least. The two of you awkwardly bring the chair and the body to the door of the building, something which is easier said than done as all of the wheels seem to want to go in different directions. After the second time it almost falls on the floor and smashes to pieces, you decide to just pick it up, you at the shoulders and Gaia at the boots, and bring them outside by hand.
You pick a nice spot of grass that hasn’t been disturbed and tuck the body in it as best you can. Gaia crosses the skeleton’s arms and wipes the grime from their badge.
“Sorry we couldn’t do more for you,” she says, and you don’t know if she means the comment to be about the burial or their death. Either way you squeeze her shoulder reassuringly and give her a moment of silence.
“All right,” she tells you, wiping away a tear, “let’s try and find the others, then.”
All you can do is nod and let her lead the way.
Add Compassion to your character sheet.
* * *
Figure out how the panel works – Turn to 25.10, Needs Radio for Idiots.
* * *
>
Ask Gaia to help with the panel – Turn to 25.8, Needs Gaia in Tow OR Gaia’s Badge.
25.10
You sit at the control panel and crack your knuckles. You’ve never done anything like this before, but you hadn’t done a lot of things when you first left on this journey, and look at you now. You’re not the person you were before.
You open the book to the beginning and start to read, slowly taking in each word and instruction before you turn the first dial.
It takes a while. You really have no idea about this stuff, so you’re literally going by the book. The sun eventually sets and you have to work by torchlight, fine-tuning each of the knobs before you find anything that works.
The static that trickles out of the speakers is a good first sign. From then on, it’s a matter of patience – pushing forwards until you pick up a channel, then testing to see if anyone responds.
All of them are duds. Eventually, your excitement from discovering the stations turns to idle boredom, flicking through the channels with a sigh. You’re almost going to give up until…
“Testing? Can anyone copy?”
You use the words you learned from the book but don’t have much hope. You go to flick away.
“Hello?”
It’s distorted and cracked by the poor signal, but it’s a voice you recognise. And one you weren’t sure if you’d hear again.
“Mari?”
On the other end of the line, Mari gasps and says your name.
“Yes! It’s me,” you tell her. Relief bubbles up in your chest and spills over in tears.
“I never thought I’d hear from you again!”
“Me neither,” you sob.
“Where are you?!”
“I’m in a radio tower across the bridge. I’ve been trying to contact you for ages. Where are you?”
“Ugh, we had to move because of the storm. We’re so sorry, we didn’t mean to leave you behind. We tried to find you when we took off but it was so bad all we could do was try and get to cover, and then when the storm died down everything around us was so wrecked we couldn’t put camp back down… look, I’ll tell you when you get here. I’ll give you our coordinates and you can come and find us.”
You write down the information Mari gives you – on your map and the back of your hand, just in case. You really don’t want to have to go through this again.
“By the way, is Gaia with you?”
“Yes” – Turn to 25.12, Needs Gaia in Tow OR Gaia’s Badge.
* * *
“No” – Turn to 25.13.
25.11
Days.
It takes you days.
You have no idea what you’re doing. You have no idea where to even start. The first few hours are dedicated solely to powering everything up.
From then on? All guesswork.
You try every dial and button, in order. Some seem to do things. Some don’t. It’s infuriating to try to work out a pattern. More than once you fall asleep at the controls and wake up with the imprints of metal on your face.
You want to shout and scream. At first, you suppress the urge. Then you just do it into the soft, sound-capturing fabric of your pack, screeching until your lungs and throat feel raw.
You’re useless at this. You’ll never find home.
The first good sign you have is days later. Static starts to trickle out from the speakers. Then you have to work out how to switch between channels and get the microphone to work. That time all adds up. Your throat is so sore from screaming that you can barely talk to test the connections.
Then again, it seems all of them are duds. You’re flicking through channels in idle boredom, almost giving up.
Until…
“Hello? Anyone there?” your voice is croaky and tired.
“Hello?”
It’s distorted and cracked by the poor signal, but it’s a voice you recognise. And one you weren’t sure if you’d hear again.
“Mari?”
On the other end of the line, Mari gasps and says your name.
“Yes! It’s me,” you tell her. Relief bubbles up in your chest and spills over in tears. It’s been – well, you lost track of time, but a while anyway.
“I never thought I’d hear from you again!”
“Me neither,” you sob.
“Where are you?!”
“I’m in a radio tower, across the bridge. I’ve been trying to contact you for ages. Where are you?”
“Ugh, we had to move because of the storm. We’re so sorry, we didn’t mean to leave you behind. We tried to find you when we took off, but it was so bad all we could do was try and get to cover, and then when the storm died down everything around us was so wrecked we couldn’t put camp back down… look I’ll tell you when you get here. I’ll give you our coordinates and you can come and find us.”
You write down the information Mari gives you onto your map and the back of your hand for safekeeping. You really don’t want to have to go through this again.
“By the way, is Gaia with you?”
“No,” you say, solemnly.
Add Instability to your character sheet.
* * *
Turn to 25.13.
25.12
At the mention of her name, Gaia perks up. She’s been doing her own thing in the radio shack not wanting to disturb you, but is clearly irritated that this whole process has taken so damn long. She scurries over and grabs the microphone from you.
“Yes! I’m here!”
“Oh thank god you’re both safe. Look, get here as soon as you can, all right? It’s been long enough now. We want you home safe.”
“Yes, of course, Mari. I can’t wait to see everyone.” Gaia is as choked up as you.
“Be safe,” are Mari’s last words. Grinning, you turn to Gaia. There are streaks in the dirt on her cheeks from the tracks her tears have made. The two of you throw your arms around each other.
“It’s time to go home,” she tells you.
END.
Add The Reunion (Chapter 29, L.29) to map.
* * *
Go to The Reunion (Chapter 29).
25.13
Your heart skips a beat as Mari says the name of your friend.
“Gaia?”
“Yes, we lost her during the storm, too. We’ve been trying to find the both of you but had no luck. I was wondering… well, it was a long shot, I suppose. Just worry about getting yourself back here, all right. We can at least be thankful one of you is safe.”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“Be safe.”
The signal clicks off.
You sit back. Of course you’re relieved to be getting home… but you can’t help but think about what must have happened to Gaia. Alone in this world, not even equipped to explore like you were.
Is she dead?
You don’t know.
There’s nothing you can do now, though.
You put your pack back on and stretch.
It’s time to go home.
END.
Add The Reunion (Chapter 29, L.29) to map.
* * *
Go to The Reunion (Chapter 29).
25.14
You turn the book over in your hands. It’s dusty and ratty, but in relatively good shape, definitely legible. You study the garish yellow cover and see there’s a picture of a radio tower on the front. The title reads ‘Radio for Idiots’.
You feel a little insulted, but leaf through the pages anyway. It’s a guide, a detailed guide on how to work all kinds of radio devices – and how to transmit your own signal! You laugh and grip the book to your chest in triumph. This is precisely the kind of thing you need.
You tuck the book under your arm and thank whoever left it here. They might have just saved your life.
Add Radio for Idiots (O.18) to your inventory.
* * *
Turn to 25.4, Cannot have Gaia in Tow OR Gaia’s Badge.
* * *
Turn to 25.4G, Needs Gaia in To
w OR Gaia’s Badge.
25.15
The book is in good condition, despite where it’s been stored for god knows how long. You open a couple of pages, wincing at the crunching sound they make and hoping you aren’t doing too much damage.
It’s a book about radio, you can tell that from the diagrams. Diagrams which are far too complicated to follow without words...
... it’s in the Old World language.
Of course. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be? You’re in the Old World. Disappointment floods your chest and you sigh, throwing the book back inside the tent. It’s of no use to you whatsoever. You’ve wasted enough time here. You’ve got to move on.
