Quoted By:
>Get out of dodge
No time to consider. You must've been out like a light, whatever they did to you the first time: you can't afford Round 2. What kind of "challenge" will that entail? You melting into goo? You stabbing Richard? No thanks. No way these mirrors are solid, either. You had to get in here somewhere. You could try The Sword on them, but you have a better-tested plan. The mantis!
<span class="mu-i">It's funny you're using that bugger like a crowbar. It tastes great stir fried, if you didn't know.</span>
Stir fried? What an evil thing to say! That's not what you expect from your retainer. Your mantis is an honored contributor to your heroic cause, not a bugger or a crowbar or <span class="mu-i">food,</span> and he— you can't name him yet, in case he explodes, but if he doesn't explode you'll name him then. (If he does explode, maybe you'll name him Teddy.) Anyways, you are retrieving your honored contributor from the pocket of your overalls, and you're holding him up to the mirror. Virginia is holding him up to the mirror. God. Your identity is as intact as ever, as best you can tell, but you still don't like looking at her looking at you. Her holding the mantis you're holding. Did the gas leak into her mind closet? Is she okay, or is she reliving her own drowning? It's the one thing you have in common with everybody, no matter what. How did she...?
(Violence! A shiv slipped through your ribs, a lightened wallet, collapsing and rolling— your ankles grabbed and you slung over, dropped down, cold wind ripping into your—)
NO! Nevermind. Not right now. Gil claims he can't talk to the mantis, and you'll claim you can't either. You could commune with it, if you have time. You don't. The air is sweet-smelling. Instead, you grip him like a sandwich and hold him up real close to the mirror, and his eyestalks swivel all around, before pointing straight ahead.
<span class="mu-i">The mirror was a lucky break.</span>
Huh? Better it than a solid wall, you suppose, but—
<span class="mu-i">No. Shrimp are territorial.</span>
Your honored contributor identifies its rival in the mirror. You suppose it must narrow its eyes, find its target, wind up, and so on— but all you see is a blur, and all you hear is a <span class="mu-i">BANG.</span> The mirror is thinner than the window was above, or the mantis was more motivated, or reality matters less, but one hit was all it took. Most of the mirror you were facing is gone. Most of it is on the ground. Some of it is in your hair. Some of it is coating the desks and blinking doohickeys of the seven or eight people behind the mirror.
<span class="mu-i">One-way mirror. I told you. Surveillance.</span>
...Yes. Most of them are sitting down at the desks. Some are in hoods; some are bare-faced but sunken-eyed. In the back, leaning against the wall, is a man in dark glasses. They all appear to be in shock: none have weapons or radios out. The dim back room stretches for a good ways to the left and right: you can't see what's out of view, though.
A tight spot indeed. Positive thinking.
(Choices next.)
