Channelknight Fadran
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"We'll work on the other stuff first." Ayia glanced around the warcamp. "How do you think we should round everybody up?" -
"Yeah, but also the camp itself. Cabins instead of tents, good food instead of bad food; that sort of thing."
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"You think we should start beefing up the camp a little?"
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"I doubt she'd stop at tanks."
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"Okay. My lips are sealed."
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"Well, we're glad to have you here." Ayia punched him in the shoulder. "And we'll be happy to help you get home, too; when you're ready, of course."
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"Would you ever even want to go back?"
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"So that's how you ended up here?"
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"How'd you escape?"
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"So they didn't exactly enslave entire populations for an army of supersoldiers?"
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"I meant total. Soldiers like you that they... altered."
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"How many of you were there?"
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"What happened to him?" Ayia asked tentatively. "How'd he die, I mean?"
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"Who was Mica?"
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"So they just took you and stuffed a computer chip in your brain or whatever?"
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"So it was a dictatorship? Feudalism?"
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"Inter...national? So, like, an entire unified planet?"
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"What kind of government were you working for? You weren't under the Fenon Clan, were you?"
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I am currently sitting by myself at a tiny desk-sized table in an airplane-hangar-sized cafeteria. There are roughly a hundred tables total in this place, each placed six feet apart from all adjacent tables. People here are confined one to a table; during lunch, you're allowed to eat your food and chat with the other inmates at a distance. During free period, you're allowed to work on your homework and have hushed conversations with other people.
Where am I? Prison? No.
School.
*Sighs*
Coronavirus has made my school an internment camp. This is just great.
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"They can just... kill you?"
