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around. They needed to keep moving.
“Where to now then, Miss Bandi?” FPS followed.
“Fuck, I dunno? We gotta find the rat runnin’ this place.”
The tree thought about this as they walked.
“We could try going back to the lobby? I think there was a map there.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He remembered the lobby map as being impossible to read, but
perhaps FPS could parse something out of it—he did manage a bit from the reports in the frozen lab. It’d be a long walk back though. Surely there was an easier way to find the guy.
They turned the corner and saw another work golem. It came from the direction of the kitchen they’d raided earlier and carried a tray—atop which there was a regal looking sandwich and a steaming cup of tea.
The thief’s gears started turning. “Hey FPS, ya reckon golems drink tea?” “You know, Miss Bandi, I don’t think they do.”
But they both knew exactly who was left in this building that would.
*
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