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SQ6 Transcript/2

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  • Eatin', drinkin', and lookin' at the stars. Sounds like something YOU'D do on a date -- especially since you're usually alone.
  • My, oh my. It would appear that Sydney's head has a life of its own today.
  • And we thought the "Elvis 1987" poster in our office was tasteless.
  • They're too high overhead to reach. In any event, you've managed to overcome your arboreal tendencies and are now perfectly content to live on land.
  • The ambient light in 8-Rear is soft and diffuved, and the light fixtures blend in with the decor to a fare-thee-well.
  • Even standing on tiptoe, your tongue isn't quite long enough.
  • It's hard, cool and round, and seems to be doing a fine job of supporting the weight of the ceiling.
  • These pillars stretch three decks up, to the high vaulted ceiling of 8-Rear. Your neck bones grind unpleasantly as you look up at the top of the pillars.
  • Ouch.
  • It's like talking to the wall, only rounder.
  • An unusual plant specimen that someone left behind, it appears to be thriving here. Perhaps it prefers beer and popcorn to fertilizer and U-Grow-It lamps.
  • (Technically, these aren't replicators, they're wormholes into the Restaurant Universe. But the food still tastes replicated, because the chefs in the Restaurant Universe are mostly ex-Monolith Burger employees and know nothing about food.)
  • Replicator, Replicator, make me something to eat!
  • Nothing happens. This is no fairy tale.
  • This is 8-Rear, the ship's lounge. Here crewmembers come to relax, drink, eat, converse, party, hit on each other, brawl, hurl, pass out, and intrude on each others' personal space.
  • Nah, I get tired of talking to the same old group of losers.
  • Under normal circumstances (such as while you're supposed to be working), you'd feel free to sit down and drink and eat to your heart's content, but duty calls.
  • The anti-grav seats make sure you're always the proper distance from the table and that you're never short of leg room.
  • Once aryin, you waste time talking to invisible people.
  • And once again, you are terribly offended that they do not reply.
  • It feels warm and informative.
  • This sign, and the menu screen attached, indicate that this is a Mr. Soylent™ food replicator.
  • It makes you wonder what kind of kickback StarCon is receiving for this blatant plug.
  • How do, Mr. Soylent.
  • Trying to talk to it? It's just a sign, Roger. Think about it.
  • Two scientific dudes stand by the back window, talking stars. It's hard to say anything sarcastic about them since star gazers are inherently cool.
  • Sure, it's hard not to want to stroke Sydney's buffed exterior, but that would be impolite.
  • Hey, you just got that from him. Perhaps you should use it first.
  • Sydney won't be interested in talking to you any further until you return his body parts.
  • Sydney, I have a favor I'd like to ask of you.
  • Flame away, Roger. You know I'd give you my right appendage if you needed it.
  • Funny you should say that, Sydney. I kind of have this situation where that very item could come in handy.
  • Really? Well, I was merely saying that metaphorically ... (INTERRUPTED BY ROGER)
  • You really are a great friend, Sydney. That'll come in real handy. I can't thank you enough, Sydney.
  • Well, if you really are seriously in need of it, I suppose I could lend it to you.
  • You will get it right back to me, won't you, Roger?
  • Oh, yeah. You bet your nut flanges, Sydney.
  • Sydney, I kind of need another favor. I need one of your eyes.
  • Pardon me, Roger. For a second, I thought you said you also wanted one of my eyes. I must have my auditory circuits diagnosed.
  • Well, actually, Sydney, I could use one of your eyes.
  • Are you certain, Roger?
  • Well, I guess if you really need it ...
  • Oh, I do. I really do, Sydney. You're a mechanized lifesaver.
  • You will return them soon, right, Roger?
  • Oh, uh, of course, Sydney. Real soon. Listen, I got a couple of things I've got to attend to. I'll see you soon. Thanks, Sydney.
  • As long as you say it will be soon, Roger.
  • Oh yeah. See you soon, Sydney.
  • Roger, are you here to return my structural loans?
  • Soon, Sydney. Soon.
  • Well, I do hope it's soon. People are starting to look at me in a strange manner.
  • You got it, Sydney. I'll be back soon.
  • There's nothing on the table to take.
  • The anti-grav tables are specially designed to compensate for the ship's motions, minimizing drink spills while under enemy attack. Now you can drink an Alien Secretion during a hull breech and still not spill a drop.
  • Yes, your eyeballs will implode within 2.3 seconds, but if and when you make it back from Sickbay, your drink will still be there waiting for you.
  • Sorry, this isn't your station.
  • Apparently you're unclear on the concept of a televised image. There is nobody inside the screen.
  • This viewscreen lets 8-Rear patrons watch the subspace transmissions of major league Hairball games, Monday Night Bunionball, and the occasional pay-per-view Orat Fights.
  • You lick a little dust off the screen.
  • Mmm, tangy!
  • You stop short of causing a terrible disaster by reminding yourself that these windows are not supposed to open.
  • A wistful vista of space moves silently by, revealing the wonder and majesty of billions of cavorting galaxies and stars.
  • Hey, civilizations out there! I can't hear you from here, you'll have to talk louder!
  • The quadruple-thick plastosteel window is cold to the touch.
  • A peaceful panorama of light, color, and limitless black space drifts quietly by the window, the infinite flow and ebb of matter and energy dancing around itself in a never-ending light show of creation.
  • I want to see something blow up.
  • You give the window a lick and a promise.

435.msg[]

  • Oliver Brelsford

Cinnamon Roll Man and Ass-Kicker

  • Quotes:


"Stop playing those damn net games!"

  • Sterling Butts

Tupperware Man

  • Quotes:


We never hear any.

  • Steve "SuperBone" Conrad

And it ain't only 'cause he plays the Trombone

  • Quotes:


"It's been said before."

  • Arijit De

Microwaver of Very Old TV Dinners

  • Quotes:


"Pick a net game. Any net game. Then you can kick my ass."

  • Michael Hutchison

Art Director and Virago Driver

  • Quotes:


"I feel so used."

  • Michael Lytton

The Wandering Programmer

  • Thanks to Tricia, Rachel, and Nathan for still loving their absentee father.
  • Hello to:


Frank and Christine Roan

Todd and Nancy Powers

Chuck and Kathy Lacy

Gary, Janet, and Kate Buss

  • Quotes:


"Abuse happens, pal. It's just a matter of targets."

  • Josh Mandel

Abandoner of Teams

  • But a lovely, lovely man.
  • Jon Meek

Lead QA, but a nice guy anyway

  • Quotes:


"Don't bug me."

  • Scott Murphy

Team Slut, when Barbie's not available

  • Quotes:


"That really raises my Big Top."

  • Karin Nestor

Lover of Cool Jazz

  • Frankie Powell

Cool artist and Cooler Mom

  • Memorable Quotes
  • "That's just a little bit too much 'butterflies-in-the-trees' kinda *** for me."


Scott Murphy

  • "What for? It's only Bill."


Oliver

  • "We try for a free lunch, and all we get is a ****ty quote."


Michael Lytton

  • "I'll drink whatever's in my face."


Bill Shockley

  • "You'll find a lot of things in my hand."


Bill Shockley

  • "Carbonate a beverage for me, will ya?"


Scott Murphy

  • "Now let's pretend I'm really stupid, OK?"


Scott Murphy

  • "What kind of Ho question is that?"


Steve Conrad

  • Bill "ShockMeister" Shockley

Team Entertainer

  • Quotes


"Take your reliable guy and kick him in the ass for me."

  • Barry Sundt

Artist and CRX Pilot

  • Space Quest 6:

This Sequel Doesn't Suck


The Renegade Credits

  • Chris Willis

Art boy

  • Quotes:


"I just want to meet a girl I can fart in front of."

440.msg[]

  • Nice shot. It looks like he may chow down on it any second.
  • No amount of brute strength can pry these doors apart, even if you had some.
  • This massive door leads to the Shuttlebay. Since the Shuttlebay is completely depressurized every time a shuttle lands or takes off, this door must be incredibly thick and impenetrable.
  • Not unlike you!
  • Open the Shuttlebay Doors, Hal!
  • He insists on slipping that line in somewhere in every sequel.
  • An interesting thought, but you wouldn't want to give him the wrong idea about your intentions.
  • Yep, he's nonfunctional, all right.
  • O, mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble.
  • That's Chesbro, one of the Shuttlebay guards.
  • That is an incapacitated security guard. I think it's time to spend a lot less time leisurely touring and a lot more time trying to get your can out of this place.
  • This is your dear crewmate, Chesbro.
  • You consider saying "hi" until you remember how dedicated he is to his job, and you wouldn't want him to get in trouble for slacking off while on duty.
  • I wonder why you don't worry about that for yourself?
  • This is the standard ComPost, your combination information station and room-to-room transporter. It's laminated to keep it clean and in good working order.
  • Voice activization was abandoned many years ago when they couldn't engineer it to accept contractions.
  • There's no need to attempt it again.
  • You're being watched!
  • Mmmm! A nice fatty doughnut. Magnum will probably scarf this down. After all, he needs to maintain his boyish, tub o' guts figure.
  • No can do!
  • This handy-dandy scrolling board announces incoming and outgoing shuttles.
  • During the quieter stretches, it's also used to display the scores when they hold donkey basketball games in the Shuttlebay.
  • An interesting idea. What are you up to, Roger?
  • It's one of two buttons you must push simultaneously to open the Shuttlebay door.
  • Careful! You could rupture the filament and lose containment in the anti-halogen bulb!
  • The wall sconces help make this painting very moody and atmospheric, don't you think?
  • Nah. You already tried throwing the plain doughnut.
  • I really don't think that's a good idea. He's not the touchy-feely type.
  • My, this guy would give Sybil a run for her money.
  • This is Magnum Opus. You owe him 200 buckazoids from a lost bet. In other words, scram.
  • Magnum doesn't talk. He fancies himself to be like one of those Buckingham Palace types.
  • It feels really swank.
  • This is the entrance to the Shuttlebay. Since the Shuttlebay is a hazardous area, and since visiting dignitaries often pass through these doors, security is extremely tight here.
  • Shhhh. This is a high-security area. What were you thinking?
  • It feels highly plasticized.
  • The teleport tube platform looks pretty much identical to all the other teleport tubes around here.
  • It's just a platform. You can't talk to it, so give it up.
  • You can't reach the top from where you are. In fact, from where you are, you'll NEVER reach the top!
  • It's a tube top!

450.msg[]

  • The shuttle's alarm is now deactivated.
  • The shuttle's alarm is now activated.
  • Hey! Here's your fish!
  • This tristeel airlock-strength security door prevents anyone from exiting or entering the Shuttlebay without being properly screened.
  • The door is too thick. Nobody on the other side can hear you.
  • You won't be doing any refueling around here, Bub. Not since you were caught smoking while filling the O2 tanks ...
  • This refueling pillar signifies parking section F8.
  • Instead of "F8," this post used to have a picture of a large cartoon mouse, but StarCon removed it after being threatened with legal action (by the same company that lost its shirt on "AndromaDizney," the first amusement park on Andromeda).
  • It doesn't have time to support the ship and you at the same time.
  • It's a tall, solidly-built, sturdy support that simply stands there twenty-four hours a day and unflinchingly does its part to maintain the integrity of the ship.
  • So what would you have in common to talk about?
  • He's waxing the ship.
  • She can't take much more of this, Captain.
  • A quick feel of the tower reveals only a few small microfractures. Whoever's job it is to find these things will probably find them in plenty of time to prevent a catastrophe.
  • This support is labelled "F9" so that entities can easily find where they parked their shuttles, pods, runabouts, and other miniships.
  • The DeepShip's shuttle has a reserved spot in this row.
  • Hey, support tower F9!
  • That takes you by surprise for a moment, 'til you realize it didn't really say anything at all ...
  • ... the third shuttle on the right is a ventriloquist.
  • You can feel the rumble of the ship's engines thrumming through every solid surface.
  • It's so nice to know all those hamsters are down in Engineering, running their little hearts out!
  • This large, well-ventilated Shuttlebay is probably the largest single room on the ship.
  • Hello ...
  • Hello...
  • This shuttle appears to be triple-locked with a security bypass and a redundancy cutoff circuit. Those rebels are so paranoid.
  • You hear a disembodied voice saying, "Remember your parking space, Luke ..."
  • Is anyone in there?
  • You hear nothing but oohs, aahs, grunts, and growls.
  • Maybe whoever's inside is just trying to get a little wookie!
  • You run your hand enviously along the wide, bulbous lines of the Gateway.
  • Nice nacelles!
  • Ooh, a mint-condition '57 Gateway Bel Air! With mag thrusters, overhead lifters, and four-pod barrels!
  • Ahoy, Matey! Anyone aboard?
  • That's some cherry flange you've got there!
  • I like it! No, really!
  • Hello?
  • OK, fine, be that way.
  • It's probably a repro anyway.
  • These balsawood shuttles are really maneuverable, but they don't last two seconds in a phaser battle.
  • Argh, Matey!
  • The hatch to this shuttle is locked, so you peek in the window.
  • There doesn't seem to be anything in there except a rag that says, "My father was betrayed at Khitomer and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."
  • Any little genius teenage brats in there?
  • No?
  • Good, let's keep it that way!
  • You search in vain for a way to open the hatch to this shuttle.
  • It's a good compact shuttle for under 8500 buckazoids!
  • Hey, who does your detailing?
  • There's no response.
  • Still, you know perfectly well you could get into it if you wanted to.
  • You just don't want to, that's all.
  • This Tiberian Skimmer may look intimidating, but it's seriously underpowered.
  • And that clearsteel compound cockpit is particularly vulnerable to meteorites, barion radiation, and large insects.
  • Avast ye! All hands on the poop deck!
  • Speaking of poop decks, don't you have some janitoring to do somewhere?
  • If you were aiming for the shuttle hatch, you missed.
  • But if you just wanted to inspect the hull of the shuttle for microfractures and embedded particulate matter, you were incredibly successful.
  • Unfortunately, with a budget of only 550,000 buckazoids, they had to leave off certain amenities ... like airtight seals, decent shields, and restrooms.
  • Anyone alive in there?
  • There's no answer. Not a good sign.
  • Careful. If you scratch this baby and someone finds out, you're going to need a positronic neural-assist circuit to help you swallow your lunch.
  • It will be mine. Oh, yes. It will be mine.
  • In your dreams.
  • I'd buy that for a dollar!
  • Oh, yeah, real smart. Let's go poking around inside a pod that's probably carrying a half-dozen miniature face-hugging saliva-dripping face-eating exo-skeletal alien piranha things.
  • And while we're at it, let's split up so that we're all alone and defenseless, okay?
  • NOT!
  • Some woman driver parked her shuttle here and contaminated the whole DeepShip with these acid-bleeding multi-jawed exo-skeletal aliens, and you had a really huge mess to clean up.
  • Just for that, Kielbasa refused to validate her parking slip.
  • Is there anyone in there that won't eat me alive if I come in?
  • From inside, you hear a muffled, "Nope!"
  • This might be the one. It looks familiar. Unfortunately, it's locked.
  • This is the hatch leading into the StarCon shuttle.
  • You can't take these supports away ...
  • ... at least, not now.
  • These narrow steel beams serve a most crucial function: they permit greater stress on the tower supports, and they prevent moving shuttles from dinging the towers.
  • Okay, so that's two crucial functions.
  • You support rods are doing a good job.
  • Keep it up!
  • You'd need double-naught security clearance to reach this walkway via the ComPost.
  • Above the door is a maintenance and observation catwalk.
  • Anyone up there? Yo!
  • And you don't even have the appropriate clearance to go to the john.
  • This workstation allows manual control of the shuttle airlock and other functions, most of which are routinely handled automatically by the ship's computers.
  • They're incomprehensible to you, so don't even fool with them.

460.msg[]

  • KNOWN RACES A-E
  • ANDROMEDAN DECAPUSS
  • -- EXTINCT --


SEE: KERONIAN TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER

  • ANDROMEDANS
  • THESE REPUGNANT CREATURES ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR MOHAWK DO'S AND THEIR WELL-DEVELOPED PREHENSILE SNOUTS, WITH WHICH THEY CAN PICK UP SMALL OBJECTS, GIVE THEMSELVES NECKRUBS, AND UNLEASH PROJECTILE MUCOSA AT ENEMIES.
  • THE MOST FAMOUS ANDROMEDANS ARE THE "TWO GUYS," WHO ROSE ABOVE THEIR HUMBLE ANDROMEDAN BEGINNINGS TO BECOME TWO OF THE MOST POPULAR AND SUCCESSFUL GAME DESIGNERS IN THE GALAXY.
  • THEY WERE ONCE KIDNAPPED AND PRESSED INTO SERVITUDE BY THE NOTORIOUS SCUMSOFT CORPORATION, BUT WERE LATER RESCUED BY AN UNIDENTIFIED WORKER.
  • MOST ANDROMEDANS PREFER FLAVORED FOREIGN COFFEES, SUCH AS HAZELNUT MOCHA MISTAKE AND VANILLA COTTAGE CHEESE.
  • BHIGDEELERS
  • NOTE THAT STARCON HAS RECENTLY DROP-SHIPPED EMERGENCY SUPPLIES OF "HOOKED ON PHONICS" TO THE BHIGDEELERS ON OMEGA BHIGDEEL.
  • THE PRIMARY CIVILIZATION OF THE PLANET MEGA BHIGDEEL IN THE SECTOR B SUBCLUSTER. (SEE: KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL).
  • BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTER
  • IMAGINE A CRUDSNORTER, ONLY WITH A BIFURCATED CRANIUM. BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS ARE LIMBER, SIMIAN CREATURES WITH FRONTAL LOBES THE SIZE OF TALOSIAN BINARY CASABAS.
  • ONE WOULD ASSUME THIS MAKES THEM SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE SIMIAN. ONE WOULD BE VERY WRONG. BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS PROVE THE OLD ADAGE THAT IT'S NOT HOW BIG YOUR BRAIN IS, IT'S WHAT YOU DO WITH IT.
  • JUST LIKE THEIR MONOCRANIAL COUSINS, THEY SPEND MOST OF THEIR TIME SNORTING CRUD AND THEN HACKING IT OUT AGAIN IN EXTENDED COUGHING FITS THAT OFTEN LAST UP TO TWELVE HOURS.
  • WHILE THEY'RE NOT GAGGING AND CHOKING, BICRANIAL CRUDSNORTERS ENJOY SWIMMING, CYCLING, JAZZ AND EATING GIBBERELIAN DUSTMITES.
  • BJORN
  • THE BJORN, A RACE OF HALF-HUMANOID, HALF-KITCHEN-APPLIANCE CREATURES, ARE THE SCOURGE OF THE KNOWN UNIVERSE. THE BJORN SEEK OUT CIVILIZATIONS IN ORDER TO ASSIMILATE THEM.
  • THE COLLECTED KNOWLEDGE OF EACH CIVILIZATION IS THEN APPLIED TO THE TASK OF CREATING NEWER, SHINIER KITCHEN APPLIANCES. THIS IS HOW THE PRESTO HOT DOGGER AND DAZEY SEAL-A-MEAL WERE INVENTED.
  • THE LEADER OF THE BJORN IS THE TOASTER-SKULLED NOCUTICLES. STARCON HAS POSTED A REWARD FOR THE DEACTIVIZATION OF NOCUTICLES, WHO MAY BE RECOGNIZED BY A SOCKET JUST BELOW THE ANTERIOR CRUST CONTROL.
  • THIS SOCKET IS TYPICALLY USED TO CONNECT NOCUTICLES TO VARIOUS POWER SOURCES IN ORDER TO RECHARGE HIM AND, THROUGH HIM, THE ENTIRE BJORN COLLECTIVE.
  • THE GREAT IRONY IS THAT THE BJORN NEVER SPEND ANY TIME IN THE KITCHEN, PREFERRING TO SEND OUT. THEY EAT A PECULIAR MIXTURE OF BATTERIES, NUTS, BOLTS, AND REPROCESSED ORGANIC SLUDGE.
  • BOERTHNIC BOULDER BEAVER
  • THE HERBIVOROUS BOULDER BEAVER IS MOST RECOGNIZABLE FOR ITS POWERFUL PREHENSILE TAIL. UNLIKE THE TAILS OF MOST BEAVERS, WHICH ARE STRONG ENOUGH TO FLING MUD ...
  • ... THE BOULDER BEAVER CAN USE HIS TAIL TO BENCH ABOUT 340 LBS FOR 3 SETS OF 15 REPS WITHOUT EVEN STOPPING FOR A FRUIT-FLAVORED SPORTS BEVERAGE.
  • HENCE IT CAN, IN FACT, CREATE A DAM OUT OF BOULDERS OR NEARLY ANY OTHER MATERIAL, INCLUDING (BUT NOT LIMITED TO) MOLTEN STEEL, LAVA, AND STELLAR CORE FRAGMENTS.
  • THE BEAVER PREFERS TO EAT THE SWEET, SPICY LEAVES OF THE CREEPY HABANERO EUCALYPTUS VINE (REPLICATOR #6830620).
  • EARNON SEA URCHIN
  • THE EARNON SEA URCHIN IS A PITIFUL LITTLE CREATURE AND DOESN'T REALLY CARE WHO KNOWS IT. IT CRIES CONSTANTLY, WHICH WAS ONLY RECENTLY DISCOVERED SINCE THE CREATURE LIVES UNDERWATER.
  • IT ALSO REFUSES TO PLAY WITH THE OTHER EARNON SEA URCHINS. HOWEVER, SOME OF ITS FEELINGS ARE UNDERSTANDABLE.
  • AFTER ALL, IT'S JUST ABOUT THE UGLIEST SUCKER ON EARNON. ITS SPINY QUILLS MAKE ROMANCE A TEDIOUS AND IMPRACTICAL AFFAIR, AND ITS GONADS ARE HIGHLY PRIZED AS SUSHI. THIS WOULD MAKE YOU CRANKY, TOO.
  • ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS
  • THE MULTITENTACLED SEA SLUG IS A LARGE, MENACING CARNIVORE WITH A SQUIDLIKE BEAK. ITS SPECTACULAR ADAPTIVE ABILITIES AND MATCHLESS FEROCITY ENSURE THAT IT CAN EASILY SURVIVE FOR EXTENDED PERIODS UNDERWATER, ON LAND, OR IN SPACE.
  • HOWEVER, DUE TO ITS NUMEROUS DISGUSTING HABITS AND UNRESTRAINED LIFESTYLE, THE ESTROSIAN SEA SLUG WOULD NOT HOLD UP FOR MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES UNDER THE SCRUTINY OF THE LIBERAL MEDIA.
  • ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS EAT ALL MANNER OF CREATURES, PARTICULARLY AQUATIC ONES. THEIR FAVORITE FOOD OF ALL, THOUGH, IS THE LATEX BABE OF ESTROS (SEE: LATEX BABES).
  • COMMUNICATIONS ARE OFF-LINE DUE TO SHORT-SIGHTED DESIGN WORK. WHEN WE RESUME SERVICE, YOU'LL ENJOY 20% SAVINGS WHENEVER YOU SEND SUBSPACE TRANSMISSIONS TO ANYONE ON YOUR BORES AND MORTAL ENEMIES LIST.
  • COMMUNICATIONS MENU
  • PURSUANT TO STARCON R/R SUBDIRECTIVE G-145-938, ALL ACCESS TO CYBERSPACE FROM STARCON VESSELS AND OFFICES IS HEREBY TERMINATED. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE.
  • I guess the cyberspace jack on these things doesn't work. That's another thing StarCon cheaped out on.
  • It looks like a cyberjack plug receptor.
  • DATABASE MENU
  • ENTITY DATABASE
  • SHIP'S FUNCTIONS
  • SCIENCE DATABASE
  • BACK
  • MORE
  • NEXT PG.
  • PREV. PG.
  • That must not work at this time.
  • Nothing happens.
  • That slot takes one of those data cards.
  • DNA SEQUENCING
  • PLEASE INSERT DATACART NOW.
  • THIS IS THE DNA PATTERN OF NIGEL RANCID.



           *FILE CLOSED*
  • KNOWN RACES
  • KNOWN RACES F-M
  • THE SWAMP SLURPIE IS BELIEVED TO BE A HIDEOUS, GROTESQUE HALF-FISH, HALF-REPTILE (ALSO KNOWN AS AN "AMPHIBIAN"). NOBODY'S QUITE SURE, BECAUSE NOBODY WHO'S SEEN ONE UP CLOSE HAS EVER LIVED TO DESCRIBE IT.
  • WITNESSES ARE USUALLY FOUND SLIGHTLY DECAPITATED OR WITH A MODEST DISCOUNT IN THE CRANIAL REGION. WE CAN ONLY ASSUME THEY EAT EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING.
  • THE TERROR BEAST IS APTLY NAMED, SINCE IT SPENDS MOST OF ITS LIFE IN TERROR. ALTHOUGH THE TERROR BEAST COULD EASILY DEFEAT A HUMANOID, IT USUALLY AVOIDS CONFLICT UNLESS FACED WITH A PARTICULARLY WIMPY OPPONENT.
  • MOST OF ITS TIME IS SPENT KEEPING TO ITSELF, AVOIDING PUBLIC APPEARANCES AND BANQUETS. ITS PREFERRED DIET IS COMPOSED MAINLY OF THE ROOTS OF THE STARSHOCK BUSH (REPLICATOR #6422803).
  • TERROR BEASTS ARE BORN WITH EXTREMELY POWERFUL LEG MUSCLES. HOWEVER, ONE LEG IS SHORTER THAN THE OTHER, SO THE BEAST TENDS TO SPIN IN A TIGHT CIRCLE AS IT ZOOMS ACROSS THE LABION LANDSCAPE.
  • THIS CREATES A WHIRLWIND EFFECT THAT CAN PROVE PARTICULARLY HAZARDOUS TO TRAILER PARKS.
  • A HIGHLY INTELLIGENT CREATURE, THE BEAST ENJOYS FIGURING OUT SMALL PUZZLES, AND WILL OFTEN STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF A HUNT TO SOLVE A MATCHSTICK PUZZLE, LOGIC PROBLEM, OR RIDDLE.
  • CURIOUSLY, THOUGH, THE BEAST HATES ARCADE SEQUENCES.
  • THESE NATIVES OF THE PLANET ESTROS ARE USUALLY NUBILE HUMANOID FEMALES, ALTHOUGH THE OCCASIONAL WILY, STRINGY MALE IS NOT UNHEARD OF (AND ARE PERIPHERALLY NECESSARY FOR THE PROPAGATION OF THE SPECIES).
  • TURN-ONS INCLUDE CONSTRUCTING THE FINEST UNDERWATER CRAFT IN THE GALAXY, ARC-WELDING, AND SHOPPING; TURN-OFFS ARE ESTROSIAN SEA SLUGS, PLAQUE BUILD-UP ABOVE THE GUM LINE, AND TWO-TIMING JANITORS.
  • FAVORITE FOODS ARE EELWORT SASHIMI (REPLICATOR #8771877) AND ROASTED DRYMOUTH GOURAMI (REPLICATOR #2712090).
  • GOLANIAN GUTTER RATS ARE SO SLIMY, SNIVELING AND NASTY THAT THEY GIVE A BAD NAME TO ALL OTHER GUTTER RATS.
  • BUT OF ALL THEIR DESPICABLE HABITS, THE WORST IS THE FACT THAT THEY'RE THE LOUSIEST BOWLERS IN THE GALAXY, HENCE THEIR NAME.
  • NOT ONLY DO THEY RARELY BREAK 100, BUT THEY TALK LOUD AND CUSS WHEN OTHER PEOPLE ARE SERIOUSLY TRYING TO BOWL (YES, IT'S A CONTRADICTION IN TERMS!).
  • THEIR PREFERRED DIET IS THE BOWLING ALLEY COMBO: FRENCH FRIES, BURGERS, HOT DOGS, AND BEER (REPLICATOR #6762876).
  • HALF ANIMAL, HALF VEGETABLE, AND HALF LOUSY MATHEMATICIAN, THE GREEN SLIME OF XENON IS A VAGUE BY-PRODUCT OF INDUSTRIAL WASTE AND ORGANIC COMPOUNDS COMBINED WITH A POWERFUL ELECTRIC CHARGE.
  • THE RESULTING LIFEFORM IS A SLOW-MOVING MASS OF GELATINOUS, ACIDIC PROTOPLASM WITH SIMPLE REFLEXES AND A VORACIOUS APPETITE. THIS MAKES IT IDEALLY SUITED TO DISSOLVING LOCKS AND APPEARING IN BAD HORROR MOVIES.
  • GREEN SLIME WILL EAT ANYTHING IN ITS PATH, DISSOLVING IT QUICKLY BUT NOT PAINLESSLY (IT REPORTEDLY FEELS LIKE BLASTING AN EXPOSED TOOTH NERVE WITH HOT SALTY IODINE USING A WATERPIK).
  • BIZARRELY, IT HAS NO SUCH EFFECT ON GLASS, MAKING IT ULTRA-CONVENIENT TO CARRY AROUND BITS OF GREEN SLIME IN AN ORDINARY JAR, AND INDEED IT WAS MARKETED THIS WAY UNDER THE NAME "FACE-B-GON." HORK CITY!
  • AT ONE TIME MANY EONS AGO, GRELL WERE THE PRIMARY INHABITANTS OF KERONA. ARTIFACTS AND RUINS HAVE REVEALED MUCH ABOUT THEM: THEY WERE CREATURES OF IMMENSE SIZE, TOWERING SOME 30 TO 40 METERS TALL.
  • THEY WERE EXTREMELY UGLY AND COULDN'T BEAR TO LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER, WHICH IS WHY THEIR RACE DIED OUT ENTIRELY. THEY WERE HUNTER/GATHERERS, PREFERRING HUNTING GATHERERS TO GATHERING HUNTERS.
  • KERONIAN TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER
  • THE KERONA TENTICULAR SLIMESUCKER, WHICH LIVES DEEP IN THE SUBTERRANEAN CAVERNS OF KERONA, HAS NEVER BEEN SEEN BY ANYBODY WHO'S LIVED TO PROVIDE A COMPLETE DESCRIPTION.
  • ALL THAT HAS EVER BEEN SEEN ARE THEIR SLIMY TENTACLES, WHICH ARE TENTACLE-LIKE AND SLIMY, RESEMBLING TENTACLE-LIKE SLIMY TENTACLES. ANYTHING FINDING ITS WAY INTO THESE TENTACLES IS FIRST SLIMED, THEN DEVOURED.
  • THIS IS AN APPROPRIATE MOMENT TO NOTE THAT "TENTACLES" COMES FROM THE ROOT "TEN TICKLES," SINCE THE ANDROMEDAN DECAPUSS, WITH ITS TEN SERPENTINE FLEXIBLE APPENDAGES, TICKLED ITS FOES TO DEATH.
  • THAT'S JUST ANOTHER FUN FACT TO KNOW AND TELL!
  • THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL HAS AN UNDESERVEDLY FIERCE REPUTATION DUE PRIMARILY TO ITS NAME OR, RATHER, TO WHAT ITS NAME HAS BECOME OVER THE COURSE OF GENERATIONS OF SLOPPY PRONOUNCIATION.
  • ORIGINALLY KNOWN AS THE "LONELY AND BEWILDERED SANDBILL," THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL IS A GENTLE, SLOW-MOVING HERBIVOROUS INSECT THAT WOULD RATHER SQUASH ITSELF FLAT THAN COME INTO CONTACT WITH ANY OTHER LIFEFORM.
  • THESE TINY INTROVERTED CREATURES ARE NATIVE TO THE PLANET OMEGA BIGHDEEL, THE ONLY PLANET WITH THE DISTINCTION OF HAVING ITS ENTIRE CIVILIZATION FLUNK PHONICS.
  • THIS LACK OF LINGUISTIC AGILITY IS SAID TO ACCOUNT FOR THE DISTORTION OF THE SANDBILL'S NAME, ALTHOUGH ANOTHER THEORY HAS BEEN PUT FORTH THAT THE "KILLER MAMMAL" APPELLATION IS MERELY DUE TO CENTURIES OF SARCASM.
  • THE KERONIAN KILLER MAMMAL EATS DUST MITES (REPLICATOR #6838687). LOTS AND LOTS OF THEM.
  • THE SENTIENT CIVILIZATION OF KERONA CONSISTS OF THE KERONIANS, A SECRETIVE AND SHY RACE OF SCHOLARLY OLD MEN. THEY DEVOTE THEIR LIVES TO THE PURSUIT AND DISSEMINATION OF KNOWLEDGE.
  • CONVERSATIONS WITH KERONIANS ARE LIABLE TO BE DRY, PEPPERED WITH OBSCURE AND DULL REFERENCES TO PLACES AND PEOPLE YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF, AND FULL OF SELF-CONGRATULATORY RHETORIC.
  • MOST MEMBERS OF MENSA ARE KERONIANS.
  • MOST KERONIANS ARE VEGANS AND PREFER THE LOCAL FLORA (REPLICATOR #2580969). HOWEVER, SOME KERONIANS EAT THEIR OWN YOUNG, JUST SO THEY CAN KNOWINGLY SAY, "OH, YES, I'VE DONE THAT. WE TASTE LIKE CHICKEN."
  • THIS BEAVER'S EYESIGHT IS AMONG THE WORST IN THE GALAXY, MATCHED ONLY BY THE GIANT CATARACT BEAR OF PESTULON, AND THE BLIND PLUMMETING MOUNTAIN GOAT OF ANDROMEDA.
  • ALTHOUGH THE CAVE BEAVER IS HERBIVOROUS, IT FREQUENTLY ACCIDENTALLY KILLS OTHER CREATURES BECAUSE, UP CLOSE, THEY ALL LOOK LIKE TREE TRUNKS.
  • IT'S ONLY AFTER THE BEAVER HAS CHEWED ITS WAY THROUGH THE NEAREST "STURDY LIMB" THAT IT DISCOVERS THE LIMB IS SOME CREATURE'S ARM OR LEG. THUS THE DAMS MADE BY THE KILLER CAVE BEAVER ARE QUITE DISGUSTING.
  • THE LABION CAVE SQUID IS A FISHLIKE MAMMAL WHICH HAS NOT YET REALIZED THAT IT'S A LAND-DWELLER. THUS IT STILL TENDS TO SQUIRT INK, WHICH JUST LIES INEFFECTIVELY IN A PUDDLE ON THE GROUND AND GETS ON THE BOTTOMS OF YOUR BOOTS.
  • IT ALSO USES TYPICAL SQUIDLIKE FLEXING MOTIONS TO PROPEL ITSELF, A VERY INEFFICIENT MODE OF TRANSPORTATION WHEN MOVING THROUGH ROCKY TUNNELS.
  • SO THE LABION CAVE SQUID GETS A LOT OF NASTY CUTS AND SCRAPES AS IT TRIES TO FROG-KICK ITS WAY ACROSS ROUGH STONE FLOOR. THIS MAKES IT MORE CRANKY THAN EVER.
  • THE CAVE SQUID IS ALSO FRIGHTENED BY BOTH HUMANOIDS AND LIGHT, SINCE IT THINKS IT'S STILL IN THE MURKY DEPTHS OF THE DEEP LABION SWAMPS. DON'T CONFUSE IT BY APPROACHING IT.
  • IT WILL HAPPILY CRUSH YOU RATHER THAN BE FORCED TO QUESTION ITS REALITY.
  • IT WILL ALSO EAT YOU IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY.
  • A DIRECT DESCENDANT OF THE VEINOUS BUGGERFLY, THE LABION ROOT MONSTER IS A CARNIVOROUS PLANT WITH ROOTS BOTH ABOVE AND BELOWGROUND.
  • THE UNDERGROUND ROOTS ABSORB WATER AND NUTRIENTS NORMALLY, BUT THE SOIL OF LABION IS NITROGEN-POOR, SO THE ABOVEGROUND ROOTS COLLECT NITROGEN BY CAPTURING AND DIGESTING SMALL STUPID ANIMALS OR LARGER, STUPIDER ONES.
  • WHEN DISTURBED, THE ROOTS WRAP AROUND THE LUCKLESS CREATURE AND CONVEY IT TO THE CENTRAL SAC, WHEREIN LIE THE DIGESTIVE JUICES AND SPIKELIKE CILIA THAT REDUCE THE CREATURE TO A PULPLIKE CONSISTENCY.
  • AT THIS POINT, THE ROOT MONSTER EXUDES NITROGEN LIKE A KLOROX II BEANBLATTER AT THE GILROY IX GARLIC FESTIVAL.
  • THE LABION ROOT MONSTER IS BEST OBSERVED AT A DISTANCE, OR IN THE HIGHLY-ACCLAIMED VIDCART SERIES "THE TRIALS OF GROTESQUE ALIEN ANIMAL BEHAVIOR" BY HIGHLY-ACCLAIMED NATURALIST DR. DAVID ATEANDBURROWED.
  • BRIDGE
  • BRIG
  • HOLOCABANA
  • PLEASE SELECT YOUR INTRASHIP
  • DESTINATION:
  • CHOICE:
  • ROGER'S QUARTERS
  • 8-REAR
  • SHUTTLE BAY ENTRANCE
  • SICKBAY
  • TRANSPORTER
  • YOU ARE AT THAT LOCATION NOW.
  • CANCEL
  • INVALID ENTRY
  • CONFIRM TRANSPORT
  • A-E
  • F-M
  • N-R
  • S-Z
  • ****** PLEASE ENTER ******
  • INTRASHIP TRANSPORT
  • COMMUNICATIONS
  • DATABASE
  • OR
  • CYBERFUNCTIONS
  • KNOWN RACES N-R
  • THESE LUMPEN CREATURES TODDLE AROUND THE UNIVERSE IN WOOD-PANELLED STATION WAGONS. WITH THEIR SAC-LIKE CHILDREN IN TOW, THEY GO ON SIGHTSEEING TOURS THAT LAST UPWARDS OF 30 THOUSAND YEARS.
  • DURING THESE TOURS, THEY TAKE LITERALLY MILLIONS OF SLIDES, MOST OF WHICH SHOW THEM WAVING "HI" ON EVERY DINKY LITTLE PLANET, ASTEROID AND INTERGALACTIC TOURIST TRAP IN THE CRAB NEBULA.
  • DURING THEIR HIBERNATION PHASE, WHICH LASTS ABOUT FOUR THOUSAND YEARS, THEY HAVE THEIR FILM DEVELOPED. WHEN THEY WAKEN, THEY WATCH THEIR SLIDES.
  • ENTIRE CIVILIZATIONS HAVE RISEN AND FALLEN DURING ONE OF THE NOSENUGGET SLIDE SHOWS.
  • NOSENUGGETS PRIDE THEMSELVES ON THEIR GUSTATORIAL FLEXIBILITY. THEY EAT WHATEVER FOODS ARE NATIVE TO THE LOCATION THEY'RE VISITING.
  • ON PLANETS WHERE THE NATIVES SUBSIST MAINLY ON NOSENUGGETS, THIS PRESENTS THE NOSENUGGETS WITH A DIFFICULT SITUATION IN WHICH THEY OFTEN END UP HAVING TO EAT THEMSELVES.
  • THESE AGGRESSIVE CARNIVORES HAVE BEEN THE BANE OF VISITORS TO THE PLANET KERONA FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. HULKING AND HEAVILY MUSCLED, ORATS WALK ON TWO POWERFUL HIND LEGS.
  • THEY ENJOY CRUSHING OTHER LIFEFORMS WITH THEIR MASSIVE FOREARMS. THEY ALSO ENJOY BASKETBALL, AND OFTEN COMBINE THE TWO BY PLAYING A QUICK GAME OF ONE-ON-ONE WITH A RECENT CATCH.
  • INTERESTINGLY (OR NOT), THE FLESH OF THE ORAT IS HIGHLY PRIZED FOR ITS FLAVOR AND BUTTERY TEXTURE. IT'S FOUND AS A COMMON INGREDIENT IN THE CUISINES OF SEVERAL DIFFERENT PLANETS.
  • AS A RESULT, THERE IS A BURGEONING BLACK MARKET IN ORAT-POACHING. FOR THAT REASON, THE ORAT IS CONSIDERED AN ENDANGERED SPECIES, BUT NOBODY SEEMS TO MIND EXCEPT FOR A FEW CHEFS.
  • YOU WON'T FIND THE MONOCHROME BOYS IN THEIR NATIVE HABITAT. THESE FOUL-MOUTHED, BELLIGERENT BEASTS SPEND MOST OF THE TIME ZIPPING AROUND ON HARDLY-DRAMAMINES, BULLYING WEAKER LIFEFORMS AND TINKERING WITH THEIR HOGS.
  • (NOT THEIR MOTORCYCLES, BUT THEIR REAL HOGS. DON'T ASK, YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW.)
  • THE MONOCHROME BOYS ARE SO NAMED BECAUSE OF THEIR UNUSUAL WHITE AND GRAY PIGMENTATION. THE BLOTCHY BLEMISHES ARE PARTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR SOUR DEMEANOR. DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT.
  • SHOULD THEY FORCE A CONFRONTATION, DO NOT CALL THEM "MONOCHROME" OR "BOYS." IT'S ALL RIGHT FOR THEM TO CALL EACH OTHER "MONOCHROME," BUT IT'S NOT OKAY FOR ANYONE ELSE.
  • THE DIET OF MONOCHROME BOYS CONSISTS MAINLY OF ANY OTHER LIFE FORM THAT HAS A LIGHT, CRUNCHY EXOSKELETON.
  • THE ONLY OTHER LIFEFORM INDIGENOUS TO PHLEEBHUT OTHER THAN THE PHLEEBHUTINSKIS, PODSNATCHERS HANG FROM THE PURPLISH ROCK FORMATIONS THAT DOT THE LANDSCAPE.
  • THEY ATTACH THEMSELVES BY MEANS OF A STRONG, SOLID MUSCLE, AND THEIR TOUGH, CHITINOUS OUTER SHELL PROTECTS THEM FROM POTENTIAL PREDATORS (OF WHICH THEY HAVE PRECISELY NONE).
  • AT BIRTH, THE PODSNATCHER CANNOT FOCUS ON ITS PREY. FORTUNATELY, IT HAS GLANDS LOCATED NEAR ITS TEAR DUCTS THAT SECRETE A LIQUID GLASS THAT HARDENS AND FORMS A LENS OVER THE EYE, USUALLY IN ABOUT AN HOUR.
  • (IMAGINE THAT! LENSES IN ABOUT AN HOUR!)
  • THE PODSNATCHER THEN LOOKS DOWN FROM ITS UPSIDE-DOWN PERCH AND UNROLLS A STICKY EXTENSIBLE TONGUE THAT CAN PICK UP AN ENEMY 250 TIMES ITS OWN WEIGHT, SNAG A FLY MOVING OVER 35 KPH ...
  • ... OR PERFORM SEVERAL DUBIOUS TRICKS DESIGNED TO GET IT ONTO "QUADRANT TWELVE'S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS."
  • THEIR FAVORITE FOOD IS PHLEEBHUTINSKIS, BUT SINCE THERE ARE NO PHLEEBHUTINSKIS LEFT ON THE PLANET, THEY MOSTLY EAT SAND.
  • PHLEEBHUTINSKIS
  • ON PHLEEBHUT, THE LAWS OF NATURAL SELECTION ARE CLEARLY ILLUSTRATED, PARTICULARLY IN HOW THEY CAN SOMETIMES GO HORRIBLY AWRY AND PRODUCE A POORLY-ADAPTED RACE TOTALLY INCAPABLE OF SURVIVING ITS NATIVE HABITAT.
  • THE CREATURES NATIVE TO PHLEEBHUT ARE COLLECTIVELY CALLED "PHLEEBHUTINSKIS" OR "BLATZ" FOR SHORT. THEY HAVE THREE FINGERS WHICH END IN SUCTION CUPS, IDEAL FOR GRASPING SMALL PREY OR SOUVENIRS.
  • THEY HAVE OVERSIZED PUPILS FOR SEEING IN DIM LIGHT, LARGE YELLOW INCISORS FOR CUTTING THROUGH FOOD, AND LONG NARROW NOSTRILS TO PROTECT AGAINST INHALING MOST FOREIGN OBJECTS (EXCEPT FOR THEIR FINGERS).
  • UNFORTUNATELY, THE PLANET OF PHLEEBHUT, A GREENISH DUSTBALL, HAS NO SMALL PREY TO GRASP, IS BRIGHTLY LIT THROUGHOUT THE DAY/NIGHT CYCLE, FEATURES DEPOSITS OF NATURALLY-OCCURRING PULPY FOOD WHICH MUST ...
  • ... BE GUMMED EXTENSIVELY BEFORE BEING SWALLOWED (REPLICATOR #6588644), AND HAS ROCK FORMATIONS WHICH CAST OFF LONG, NARROW SLIVERS OF MICA WHICH ARE EASILY INHALED BY THE BLATZ.
  • THESE MICA SLIVERS CAN CAUSE EXTENSIVE LACERATIONS OF THE SINUS CAVITIES. THUS ANY BLATZ WHO IS FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO SURVIVE THE ATMOSPHERE TYPICALLY LOSES HIS TEETH, GOES BLIND, OR STARVES QUICKLY.
  • IN FACT, THERE IS ONLY ONE KNOWN CURRENTLY-SURVIVING BLATZ (KNOWN AS "FESTER") WHO HAS MOVED OFF OF PHLEEBHUT TO SEEK A MORE HOSPITABLE ENVIRONMENT.
  • THE PINKUNZ ARE A RACE OF MANY CONTRASTS. THEY'RE SO CUTE, YOU JUST WANT TO EAT THEM UP. BUT YOU CAN'T BECAUSE THEY'RE VERY TOUGH AND YOU CAN CHEW THEM FOR HOURS WITHOUT MAKING ANY HEADWAY.
  • WHICH IS ALL RIGHT, BECAUSE THEY TASTE HORRIBLE.
  • THEY LIVE ON LABION AND CREATE ELABORATE WARRENS OR "DENS". THEY ALSO SWIM THROUGH THE LABION SWAMPS WITH EASE, SINCE THEY USE CERTAIN BERRIES TO REPEL THE SWAMP SLURPIES THAT INHABIT THE MARSHES AND BAYOUS.
  • HOWEVER, THE BERRIES ARE INEFFECTIVE AGAINST THE MONSTROUS KILLER CAVE BEAVERS, WHO INVADE THE DENS AND FEAST ON THE PINKUNZ WITHIN.
  • THE CAVE BEAVERS ARE NOT INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT HOW TOUGH AND CHEWY THE PINKUNZ ARE, AND OFTEN SAMPLE EVERY PINKUNZ IN THE DEN BEFORE REALIZING THAT NONE OF THEM ARE TENDER ENOUGH TO EAT.
  • PINKUNZ ARE HERBIVOROUS, SO THEY ONLY EAT CREATURES NAMED "HERB." THEY WILL ALSO EAT THE YOUNG SHOOTS OF THE WANDERING ATHEIST (REPLICATOR #4366314).
  • That's my ComPost.
  • CURRENT MEDICAL ISSUES
  • 1. STARCON H/W SUBDIRECTIVE W-411-923 RECOMMENDS THAT HUMANOID LIFEFORMS INGEST NO MORE THAN 10% OF CALORIES FROM FAT. THEREFORE, KUNG PAO CHICKEN HAS BEEN DEPROGRAMMED FROM THE REPLICATOR MENU LIST.
  • 2. STARCON WOULD LIKE TO CONGRATULATE DR. BEVERAGE CRUSHER ON HER SELF-ADMINISTERED BALLOON ANGIOPLASTY. THIS PROCEDURE USES A TINY INFLATABLE BALLOON TO COMPRESS A BLOCKAGE AGAINST THE SIDES OF A VESSEL.
  • 3. SELF-ADMINISTERED CONGRATS ARE IN ORDER TO SCOTT MURPHY FOR FINALLY FIGURING OUT HOW TO FIRMLY WEDGE HIS HEAD BETWEEN HIS OWN CHEEKS.
  • PERIODIC TABLE
  • FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THIS, PLEASE SEE VOLUME 2, ISSUE 1 OF "SANITATION HOT SPOTS."
  • FOOD REPLICATOR
  • FOOD REPLICATORS ARE AVAILABLE IN MANY SHIP'S LOCATIONS. TO USE, ENTER THE NUMBER OF THE DESIRED FOODSTUFF. MENUS ARE AVAILABLE IN THE SEAT POCKET IN FRONT OF YOU.
  • IF THERE IS NO SEAT POCKET IN FRONT OF YOU, TRY LOOKING BEHIND YOU.
  • IF THERE IS NO SEAT POCKET BEHIND YOU, JUST HAIL THE WAITER AND REQUEST ONE.
  • IF THERE IS NO WAITER IN SIGHT, PLEASE WAIT AND ONE WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.
  • HOLOJOINTS
  • THE HOLOJOINT CAN RECREATE ANY ENVIRONMENT FOR WHICH A PROGRAM EXISTS. TO START A PROGRAM, ENTER THE PROGRAM NUMBER AND PRESS ENTER.
  • WARNING: ALL MATERIALS IN THE HOLOJOINT ARE MADE FROM VIRTU-PLAST, A VIRTUAL MATERIAL THAT CANNOT EXIST OUTSIDE OF THE HOLOJOINT ENVIRONMENT.
  • ATTEMPTING TO REMOVE ANY VIRTU-PLAST ITEMS FROM THE HOLOJOINT ENVIRONMENT WILL RESULT IN THEIR IMMEDIATE DISINTEGRATION.
  • SO DON'T THINK YOU'RE GOING TO GO IN THERE AND CONJURE UP SOMETHING USEFUL AND THEN LEAVE AND EXPECT IT TO STILL BE IN YOUR INVENTORY.
  • KNOWN RACES S-Z
  • SARIENS
  • THE SARIENS ARE A HUMANOID RACE. TREACHEROUS, EVIL, BUT ALWAYS EAGER TO PLEASE, THE SARIENS MAKE WONDERFUL HOSTS, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE THEIR ENEMY (AND WHO ISN'T?).
  • THEY PRIDE THEMSELVES ON THEIR TECHNIQUES OF TORTURE, MUTILATION, DISFIGUREMENT, NAPKIN-FOLDING, AND SELECTING THE RIGHT WINE TO GO WITH WHICHEVER ENEMY THEY'RE EATING.
  • THEY'RE ALSO EASILY OFFENDED SHOULD YOU INSINUATE THAT THEY'RE DOING LESS THAN THEIR BEST TO GRIND YOU INTO A FINE RED PASTE.
  • SARIENS ARE OMNIVORES, PREFERRING TO EAT OLD BACK ISSUES OF "OMNI."
  • BILLIONS OF YEARS AGO, THE PLANET SORENIA WAS DEVASTATED BY A COLLISION WITH AN ASTEROID. ALL WATER EVAPORATED FROM THE ECOSYSTEM. EVERY DAY THE INHABITANTS SURVIVED WAS A VICTORY.
  • EVENTUALLY, ALL LIFE PERISHED. OR SO IT WAS BELIEVED. MANY OF THE LIFEFORMS ADAPTED BY ENCAPSULATING THEMSELVES IN CYST-LIKE EGGS. WHEN THESE EGGS ARE IMMERSED IN WATER, THEY HATCH.
  • ONE SUCH LIFEFORM WAS KNOWN AS THE BRINE MONKEY, A TINY WATER-BREATHING SIMIAN. CERENO PRODUCTS MINED THE PLANET FOR ITS HUGE DEPOSITS OF BRINE MONKEY EGGS.
  • SPACE MONKEYS PREFER SPACE FOOD STICKS (REPLICATOR #6834468) OR TANGY, PIQUANT BRINE BANANAS (REPLICATOR #6588126).
  • SPINY ALIEN THANGS ARE A MARVEL OF ADAPTIVE ABILITY. WITH EXOSKELETONS FAR TOO CUMBERSOME TO PERMIT TRADITIONAL REPRODUCTIVE TECHNIQUES, SPINY ALIEN THANGS HAVE LEARNED TO PROPAGATE BY KISSING.
  • THIS IS NOT A LITTLE PLATONIC KISS: IT CONTAINS A FERTILIZED EGG WHICH HEADS STRAIGHT FOR THE VICTIM'S STOMACH. HERE IT ABSORBS NUTRIENTS FOR DAYS OR WEEKS, LIKE A PARASITE, ONLY ... WELL, JUST LIKE A PARASITE.
  • WHEN IT SENSES THE MOST DRAMATIC MOMENT POSSIBLE, IT BURSTS FORTH FROM THE STOMACH IN A SPECTACULAR DISPLAY OF SPECIAL EFFECTS. THIS EXPLOSION NATURALLY KILLS THE HOST.
  • BUT ISN'T IT WORTH IT FOR ALL THE COOL GORE, ESPECIALLY IF THE HOST WAS MERELY AN EXTRA AND NOT A HIGHLY-PAID GUEST STAR?
  • THE VULGARS ARE A PEACEFUL RACE OF BRILLIANT AND LOGICAL THINKERS WHOSE ONLY REAL JOY IN LIFE IS TO STRIDE AROUND THE GALAXY WITH SUPERIOR ATTITUDES AND CORRECT OTHER PEOPLE'S GRAMMAR AND SPELLING.
  • THEY ALSO ENJOY DESIGNING OUTER SPACE STRATEGY SIMULATION GAMES. THIS MAKES THEM NEARLY AS INSUFFERABLE AS UNIVERSITY ACADEMICIANS, BUT NOT AS WELL-PAID.
  • CONSIDERING THEIR PLACID AND STUDIOUS LIFESTYLE, IT'S INTERESTING TO NOTE THAT THE VULGARS HAVE DEVELOPED AN EXTREMELY PRACTICAL MARTIAL ARTS TECHNIQUE CALLED "THE VULGAR NERVE PINCH."
  • THIS IS A TACTILE/AURAL MANEUVER IN WHICH THE PINCHER PINCHES THE BUNDLE OF NERVE FIBERS AT THE BASE OF THE NECK WHILE WHISPERING DIALOGUE FROM EITHER "TANGO & CASH" OR "HUDSON HAWK."
  • THIS PARTICULAR COMBINATION OF STIMULI RESULTS IN A SEARING FLASH OF PAIN AND THEN UNCONSCIOUSNESS WHICH CAN LAST FOR SEVERAL HOURS. THE TECHNIQUE IS DEMONSTRATED IN HOLOJOINT PROGRAM #5551212.
  • You get fingerprints all over it.
  • This is your standard ComPost panel, where you can get information, travel to other ship locations, or just pretend to be doing some work.

470.msg[]

  • Click where you want to put the Blue Cable.
  • Click where you want to put the Red Cable.
  • Time Passes ...
  • More time passes ...
  • Even more time passes ...
  • Ooops! It looks like you should have waited just a bit longer before hooking these up. Everyone knows that hooking them up too soon always causes a major phlange phase shift overload.
  • These are the shuttle's jumper cables. That sure doesn't make you feel real secure about this spacecraft if those are standard equipment.
  • That's the hatch back into the shuttle.
  • Okay, Manuel, we're all hooked up. Give it a try.
  • That's just another thing I don't understand.
  • What's with this fish deal? Now one's stuck in the engine intake.
  • It opens from the inside.
  • That's the hood. Beneath it is the shuttle's engine.
  • The unfilled hollow of space is now just a fabric's thickness away. You forgot just how much more spectacular the view is from outside. You won't find anything like this in any oxygen-filled environment -- except maybe for that small vacuous chamber barely holding your ears apart.
  • That, of course, is your freshly stolen shuttle from the DeepShip 86.
  • With the high-tech jumpstart having been performed, the shuttle is ready to bail.
  • It's a "HELP" sign.
  • Sorry, you can't break loose. You'll have to stick to moving to locations on the shuttle itself.
  • Might as well get everything while it's open. You never know what's going to go wrong next.
  • It's the shuttle's trunk.
  • Well, let's get a move on. I have a wax job in an hour and I still have a half light year to make up. Juanobbee is just going to murder me if I'm late again.
  • Is there anybody out there?
  • Hello, Sweetheart. You look like you could use a little assistance. Is there anything I can do?
  • Well, yes, there is. Thanks for stopping.
  • You just name it, I guess.
  • It seems I've stalled my engines. Could you give me a jump? I have cables.
  • I'd jump you in a heartbeat, Dollface. I guess you must'a got caught up in that anti-anomaly. They can be a real pain in the ... anyway, let's get it done.
  • Well, here's your end of the cables.
  • I'll let you know when I'm all hooked up.
  • Bye-bye, Sugar Bunny.
  • I've gotta be running along.
  • Hey, thanks for stopping to help me.
  • See ya'.
  • CONTACT!
  • Hallo! I really have to get going. Can we turn it up a notch?
  • No time for that. Besides, you've got enough to deal with in the relationship zone as it is.
  • I sure do appreciate you stopping and helping out.

480.msg[]

  • Manuel tosses you a transport signaller.
  • You can only use this from the place I beam you to.
  • It would be rather hard to do that while wearing the EVA suit.
  • You've got way too much to do to spend time messing with THAT now.
  • You neatly replace the EVA suit in its proper place.
  • Step over to the transport pad and I will beam you down to the surface of Polysorbate.
  • Nope, nothing moveable here.
  • (This civilization never developed the inane habit of calling it a "glove compartment.")
  • I feel a little silly talking to an inanimate object.
  • Imagine how your crewmates must feel whenever they talk to you.
  • This is the lid to the Personal Effects Stowage Compartment.
  • It looks a little on the gross side. You hate to touch it.
  • Open, sesame.
  • How very original.
  • Close, sesame!
  • You're still trying that one?
  • You won't need any Monolith© Burger wrappers or empty cups. The shipwide recycling program was disposed of.
  • The rest of the junk in the Stowage Compartment is effluvium (oooh, a ten-buckazoid word!) from frequent trips to Monolith© Burger, a common change-of-pace from the usual replicator fare.
  • Don't be a garbage mouth.
  • It's a brain!
  • It's empty at the moment. No need to open it now.
  • You don't need to do that while on Delta Burksilon.
  • I don't need this suit right now.
  • The shuttle closet contains an EVA suit and helmet, for those infrequent repairs.
  • There's nobody in the closet to talk to, now that StarCon has adopted the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy.
  • You don't want that coffee, there's something green and fuzzy floating in it.
  • (Unless, of course, that fuzzy green thing is what you were really after in the first place!)
  • Somebody's left a cup of mocha java in the pilot's cupholder.
  • Which reminds you: isn't it about time you went to Mocha XII and stocked up on beans?
  • The fuzzy green mold growing in the cup of mocha java is a lousy conversationalist.
  • This is the shuttle cockpit. You sit here. You will be smart. You will make it go. You will make things work.
  • Yo! Anything hiding under the dashboard?
  • This compartment is sealed in order to shield the tachyon emitters from E-band radiation. C'mon, every second-year cadet knows that!
  • (Of course, you never made it beyond first-year.)
  • This upper compartment contains the subspace transmission relays and tachyon emitters.
  • Hello in there. Hello?
  • This compartment contains the Divalium crystal subprocessor and main flux coupling.
  • Yeah, it's right there where I left it.
  • Cool!
  • Don't screw with the pattern buffer array. If you get messed up during teleportation, it can unscramble you.
  • This compartment contains the manual override array and the pattern buffer subroutines.
  • Now what?
  • Come on! It's a manual override array and pattern buffer subroutine, not a hint system.
  • I guess the Divalium crystal won't work in this form. Fortunately, I have vast experience in the re-forming of broken items.
  • It's no wonder. You've had to repair a lot of stuff you've broken in your time. The word "clod" comes to mind.
  • You have put glue on the crystal but not in the compartment.
  • It feels nice.
  • You already fixed the crystal. I don't think it would work any better if you poured more glue on it.
  • There's no need to attempt gluing it again.
  • All appears well in the crystal compartment.
  • sdfsdf
  • sdfsdfgsf
  • Wow. The crystal seems to have broken. I swear it wasn't me!
  • Now we're in deep.
  • Hey, I've gotten us this far, haven't I?
  • Yes, and what a wonderful place it is.
  • (TO HIMSELF) How did I get hooked up in this deal? My agent's going to be hearing from me big time!
  • The compartment crystal has been glued already.
  • You're not that thirsty.
  • It's an old cup of MC Cola, "The Cola that Gets You Hammered."
  • Desperate for intelligent conversation?
  • Imagine how the rest of the crew feels when they're around you!
  • I don't want to go out there again.
  • It's pretty sticky out there, maybe you should wear your EVA Suit.
  • That's not a request, Roger. If you want out, put on the damn suit.
  • You don't have to wear your helmet out there.
  • This is the shuttle hatch. It leads back out into the Shuttlebay.
  • This is the shuttle hatch.
  • I command you to open!
  • The door ignores you. Don't take it personally, though. It ignores everyone.
  • It's the engine panel.
  • This is an EVA helmet.
  • No, that's just not a good idea now.
  • This is an EVA suit.
  • Such a petty act of vandalism would be dealt with most harshly.
  • And you've already been caned once this week for spray painting someone's shuttle.
  • This exit sign tells you where to get off.
  • But who doesn't?
  • Why are you talking to that? By now you should realize that no one, and nothing, listens to you anyway.
  • These passenger seats are for picking up colonists, ambassadors, visiting dignitaries, and people who are too neurotic to handle transporters.
  • Can you believe that, in this day and age, there are people who object to being dematerialized, broadcast to some remote location, and then rematerialized?
  • It's not as if we were asking them to take off from LaGuardia!
  • This is the shuttle's Personal Effects Stowage Compartment.
  • Any personal effects in there?
  • Apparently none that are any good at speechifyin'.
  • You hold the glue-coated segment to the broken Divalium crystal for ten seconds to set the glue.
  • Through the viewscreen you can see the unlatched hood of the shuttle.
  • Yes, it looks like the light bulbs DO need replacing, but this is not the proper time to bother with such minutiae.
  • The lights here are half-spectrum, in order to give everyone the same pale blue "mole person" look.
  • Why am I talking to a light bulb? C'mon, illuminate me.
  • Excuse me. I have a statement to make. The Space Quest 6 team would like to apologize for the previous, and also any future, bad puns the writer may have decided to indulge in. We have threatened his life and expect no further problems. Thank you for your patience.
  • Interesting. It's a recall notice.
  • It's empty.
  • On the back of the left seat is a pouch containing a card.
  • Being of holographic origin, Manuel is not impressed with your efforts to make physical contact with him. It is very unfulfilling.
  • That's Manuel Auxveride, your holographic navigator.
  • Your whimper is my command, Sir.
  • They're too far above you to reach.
  • Various conduits and pipes run through the shuttle, housing wire, delivering engine coolant, and piping in nearly-fresh air.
  • No, you can't play "telephone" by yelling into the pipes.
  • Despite the tremendously high heat of whatever's in this pipe, it's cold to the touch, thanks to a hundred microthin layers of expanded [[[octostyrene polymer]].
  • If you recall correctly, this thickly-shielded conduit routes the plasma runoff into the reintegration chamber.
  • It's either that or the hot water.
  • Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lick cold pipes?
  • It's the recall notice.
  • It's a recall notice.
  • The shuttle feels flimsy.
  • The shuttle always looks trashed like this when it gets back from one of those intergalactic tailgate parties.
  • It's some sort of recall notice from the manufacturers of the DS86 series of shuttles. Apparently, some electrical components can malfunction, leaving the pilot and passengers stranded.
  • These are the seats for the pilot and navigator, built of a semi-translucent gelfoam that molds itself to the shape of whoever's sitting in it.
  • The semi-transparency also makes it easier to spot loose change and crumbs that have fallen between the cushions.
  • The gel is flavorless. It's like there was a party in your mouth, but nobody showed up.
  • The Shuttlebay doesn't look so spacious from in here. In fact, it looks kind of fuzzy.
  • The stars look pretty this time of night.
  • Oh, geez, is that a stomach?!
  • This tank of emergency oxygen serves an incredibly important purpose:
  • It ensures that the shuttle's hatch makes a neat "hissing" sound when it opens and closes.
  • Conversing with inanimate objects is a tankless job.
  • Gee, you finally decide to do some janitoring. Great timing.
  • Who in the world left all this trash in here? Isn't somebody supposed to clean up the shuttle when it comes back from a mission?
  • Oh, wait, that's me.
  • On second thought, it doesn't look so bad after all.
  • There's nothing in the Monolith burger wrappers that looks big enough to bother eating.
  • Depositing oils from your hand on the window is not as entertaining as it was when you were a child.
  • It's a pane of quintuple-thick hyperglazed safety glass. If it breaks, it instantly solidifies on a molecular level and reglazes itself.
  • Beats washing them.
  • Hey, I can see myself!
  • Oh, joy.
  • You know as much about fixing diagnostic relays as you do about performing a tetryon particle sweep.
  • Loser!
  • Someone must have been fixing the diagnostic relays.
  • Licking bare wires is a cheap thrill that you gave up when you were six.

490.msg[]

  • Well, that was pretty darn gross! Now, where am I? I guess I'm supposed to be on Stellar's stomach based on what Doctor Beleaux said.
  • Well, I guess this isn't going to help me now.
  • What may I do for you, Sir?
  • Beam me down to Polysorbate, please.
  • Oh, never mind.
  • You're all suited up and ready to go.
  • Step over to the transport pad and I will beam you down to the surface of Polysorbate.
  • Don't you recognize you? It's you, only bigger.
  • Even studly old you can't budge them. (What a surprise!)
  • Structural braces strengthen the viewscreen during those times when a planet's atmosphere must be penetrated and, thus, pressure builds on the outside of the ship.
  • Yipes! So this is the old grey matter, huh? What a mess.
  • MERCURY
  • SODIUM
  • NITROGEN
  • NEPTUNIUM
  • COBALT
  • BARIUM
  • PRASEODYNIUM
  • IRON
  • LANTHANUM
  • STRONTIUM
  • CHLORINE
  • TIN
  • SULFUR
  • NITROGEN
  • COBALT
  • PHOSPHORUS
  • NEODYNIUM
  • PLATINUM
  • RHODIUM
  • TANTALUM
  • OXYGEN
  • GOLD
  • MANGANESE
  • OSMIUM
  • POTASSIUM
  • COPPER
  • FLUORINE
  • KRYPTON
  • HELIUM
  • HYDROGEN
  • CERIUM
  • TUNGSTEN
  • SILVER
  • LEAD
  • PLUTONIUM
  • SILICON
  • NEON
  • ZEON
  • ARGON
  • RADON
  • SULFUR
  • IODINE
  • TELLURIUM
  • YTTRIUM
  • INDIUM
  • ZINC
  • LITHIUM
  • URANIUM
  • LASAGNE
  • SNOWY
  • NAPKIN
  • FENCES
  • It's the skyline of Delta Burksilon V.
  • It's the most indespensible item in the universe: duct tape.
  • RETINAL SCAN RESULTS:


UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL

INITIATING LAUNCH SHUTDOWN

  • You press it but nothing happens. Too bad this option wasn't installed.
  • Cool! This button is for the games option package available on the DS86 series. Too bad StarCon was way too cheap to spring for it.
  • GAMES MENU:


NOT INSTALLED

  • It appears to be the shuttle's version of a glove box.
  • It reminds you of one of those hand pumps you use when the astrohead plugs up.
  • Even though you're in space, you shouldn't pop the trunk or hood while traveling.
  • The hood is already open.
  • It appears to be a release handle for the hood of the Shuttle.
  • INTERMIX CONFIRMATION DISPLAY:


THE INTERMIX PARAMETERS CANNOT BE CHANGED ONCE THE SHUTTLE ENGINES ARE IN OPERATION.

  • This is the Intermix Confirmation Display. Once the proper four elements have been selected, along with the proper confirmation code, the shuttle is ready to fly.
  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INTERMIX NOT CORRECTLY SET

MAKE NECESSARY ADJUSTMENTS BEFORE INITIATING LAUNCH SEQUENCE.

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INTERMIX CONFIRMED

STAND BY FOR RETINAL SCAN

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LAUNCH INITIATION FAILED.

  • Perhaps I'd get farther if I kept the Subroutine Disc in its slot.
  • I guess I won't get far without fuel.
  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


INITIATING WARP SEQUENCE.

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LOCATION LOCKED

HEADING TO THE BRAIN

  • LAUNCH SYSTEM:


LOCATION LOCKED

HEADING TO THE STOMACH

  • This looks like the launch initiation button. At least, that's what it says it is.
  • That's the pilot's seat. You silently hope that the seats are only built that well for comfort, and not out of necessity.
  • Can't you read? It's the Subroutine Program disc slot!
  • Jeeesh! So it's little small. (TO HIMSELF) I'm so tired of hearing that.
  • Those are the words which inform you that the slot below accepts Subroutine Program discs.
  • This is the pilot's wheel. It's from here that you will next be risking your life.
  • You leave a greasy little smudge on the window.
  • This is the main cockpit display. Various subsystems of the shuttle are monitored and controlled from here.
  • The PTS is on-line and working. We can now launch to Polysorbate.
  • I am here to serve you, Sir.
  • Your whimper is my command, Sir.
  • What may I do for you, Sir?
  • ... then the Galacticon said, "If I did have hover capabilities, I wouldn't need the Cleftsnorter!" Ah, excuse me, Sir. How may I enhance your efforts?
  • My sole purpose is to help you, Sir.
  • Within reason, that is.
  • It would appear that the picture and negative are in the wrong order.
  • Being of holographic origin, Manuel is not impressed with your efforts to make physical contact with him. It is very unfulfilling.
  • That's Manuel Auxveride, your holographic navigator.
  • Sir, I believe I may be able to tap myself into the PTS and perform a limited set of functions.
  • PTS?
  • Yes, Sir, PTS -- the Photo Triangulation System. It was installed as a crude backup navigational device to the modern navigational computer system. It's what you see before you mounted in the middle viewscreen.
  • Sir, I am unable to access the navigational computer. I am guessing that it may have overloaded just as the Divalium crystal somehow went off-line. Once repairs have been made and the shuttle engines have been re-fired, I believe I can follow the DeepShip's ion trail back to Delta Burksilon V.
  • That would be quite cool, Manuel. You sure about that?
  • Once the Divalium crystal has been repaired, our electrical system re-established, and the engines fired, I am 97.2 percent certain.
  • Why only 97.2 percent?
  • I judged 97.2 to sound more hip to our audience than would 100. (SLIGHTLY ANNOYED) You would have to mention it.
  • Sorry.
  • Don't apologize to me. It's the players you ruined it for.
  • Good work, Sir. I believe I can now follow the ion trail of DeepShip 86 back to Delta Burksilon V.
  • Sir, I believe the Divalium crystal is still off-line.
  • Sir, there still seems to a potential engine blockage, and the Divalium crystal is off-line.
  • Sir, we are unable to proceed with the Divalium crystal off-line, a lack of power to restart the engines, and with a potential engine blockage.
  • Sir, the Divalium crystal seems to be in proper configuration, but I'm afraid we'll need a power boost to restart the engines. I'm sensing that we may also have some sort of engine inlet blockage as well.
  • Sir, there seems to be a problem with one of the engine intakes.
  • Oh great! What's next!
  • Sir, the Divalium crystal is still off-line, and we'll need a power boost as well once that's repaired.
  • Sir, all seems to be ready, but I'm afraid we'll need a jump to restart the engines.
  • One of the Intermix tanks seems to have been breached.
  • Cool! This button is for the Movies option package available on the DS86 series of shuttles. Too bad StarCon was way too cheap to spring for it.
  • MOVIE MENU:


NOT INSTALLED

  • These are navigational system readouts.
  • NAVIGATION COMPUTER:


OFF-LINE

SYSTEM INTEGRITY FAILURE

  • You take a chance and give the manual override button a push. Suddenly, something begins to happen in the right seat.
  • Oh, that's right, Manuel is off-line in here. He can't help me now.
  • Nothing happens. That button must not work at this time.
  • The manual override button is no longer functional.
  • This button activates the manual override state. It is effective only while in flight.
  • RETINAL SCAN RESULTS:


AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL

LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIATED

  • Swell! There's not enough power to restart the engines!
  • It says "POWER". Could it be that this button has something to do with the power system of the shuttle? Nah, that sounds way too obvious.
  • The power is not currently on.
  • You can't snap a picture if the PTS is off-line.
  • There are no more pictures available for snapping.
  • You must remove the current photo before you attempt another shot.
  • Obviously this button controls the Photo Triangulation System which is the heart of the navigational selection system on the DS86 series of shuttles.
  • This is the Photo Triangulation System unit. It houses the optics as well as the print recorder and ejector.
  • This button activates the PTS system.
  • You might want to fire up the sucker before you try that.
  • This looks to be just a backlit screen of some sort.
  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


2.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


1.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


ON-LINE


SYSTEM MARGINAL


0.0 PHOTOGRAPHS REMAINING

  • PHOTO TRIANGULATION SYSTEM:


OFF-LINE

  • Josh Mandel


1990 - 1994

  • Don't. You'll distort the optics, making it inoperable.
  • That's the retinal scanning unit. Upon launch initiation, the operator is asked to place his or her eye against it to be checked for proper authorization for operation.
  • Let's see if this sucker works.
  • That won't be of any help at this time.
  • That's the co-pilot's seat. You wonder why it looks stained.
  • It's the right side display panel. It's just mostly pretty lights and stuff.
  • Oh, real nice. It really needed a nice big dollop of skin grease smeared on it.
  • It's just another in the array of displays you are totally mystified by.
  • That's the co-pilot's wheel. It doesn't really do anything. It's just supposed to make the co-pilot feel important.
  • This is the shuttle's cockpit. All the action takes place right here.
  • Through the cockpit glass you can see the Shuttlebay interior.
  • Wow, look at all the pretty stars.
  • My, that sure looks tasty. What the hell is it? It looks like a stomach or something. Check out that membrane.
  • [[Acme Nanite Detector|ACME NANITE DETECTOR[[

SHUTTLE SUBROUTINE


DESIGNED BY:

DR. HAYDEN BELEAUXS


CRACKED BY:

THE NUMBKNUT GUYS

  • You pull the handle and hear something release on the outside of the shuttle.
  • The trunk is already open.
  • The trunk is empty, you really don't need to open it again.
  • Looky there. It's the trunk handle.
  • Janitor Wilco, what are you doing?! You have no authorization to take that shuttle. To make matters worse, you have launched into the middle of a Super Double Reverse Anti-Anomaly!
  • You will turn that ship around immediately and head back to the Shuttlebay! Do you understand, Wilco?!
  • (A LITTLE QUIETER THAN NORMAL) Bite me, Commander.
  • What was that last transmission, Wilco?!
  • Uh, we're, uh, having a little problem with the signal, Sir.
  • I mean ... uh, with all due respect, Sir, I did plead with you not to leave Stellar behind. Sir, I sense that something's just not right with that community.
  • I don't believe Stellar is dead and I just can't leave her there. I am going to do this, Sir, regardless of the consequences. Stellar saved my life not once, but twice. I owe her.
  • Well, that was her own stupid mistake. I demand that you return at once, Wilco! If you do so and surrender now, your record will be taken into consideration during your disciplinary hearing.
  • Oh, that'll help you loads!!!
  • I'm sorry, Sir, but I just can't. I have to do this.
  • WILCO! YOU FOOL!
  • Just then the shuttle is sucked into the anti-anomaly. Communication with the DeepShip has been disrupted.
  • This panel would control the weapons systems were this shuttle so equipped.

495.msg[]

  • Hang on! I think we're going in!

500.msg[]

  • Just as you crash to the floor of the Turboshaft, the HydroRiser piston gives way and the door slams shut -- with Stellar still trapped inside.
  • You claw and pull at the seams of the bulkhead door, but to no avail. Just then, you hear and feel an explosion which seems to have come from behind the door.
  • The door is sealed tight. You can hear no other noise after the ear-ringing from the blast subsides.
  • My God! I can't believe this. It can't be happening!
  • She was ... I was ...
  • S T E L L A R !!!
  • I want to go to the Docking Bay. Up, up, and away!
  • Ascend-O-Pad, take me away!
  • The ceiling appears to be one seamless surface, reassuring you that you won't have to do any shaft-climbing in this adventure.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad's ceiling is a seamless plate of anodized lightweight quaturium, for high tensile strength, low maintenance, and easy monthly payments.
  • (SINGING) Ceilings ... nothing more than ceilings ...
  • These are indicator lights, not buttons! C'mon, get with the program!
  • These arrows cleverly indicate the direction in which the Ascend-O-Pad is moving.
  • Which direction am I going now?
  • Judging by the way you keep speaking to inanimate objects, I'd say you're going downhill fast.
  • You and what army?
  • Just walk through it. No sleight-of-hand is required!
  • This hatch is closed, but it opens automatically when the Ascend-O-Pad is on the Docking Bay level and there's a vehicle in the Bay.
  • The hatch is now open, allowing you free egress to your shuttle.
  • (Just what I need, a shuttlefull of free egress!)
  • I bid thee open!
  • (IN FALSETTO) If you're going in there, Graham, I'm staying out here!
  • I bid thee close!
  • (IN FALSETTO) If you're staying in here, Graham, I'm going out there!
  • You can't operate these hydraulic brakes manually. You'd shear your hand off into a thin smear of blood, mashed flesh and pulverized bone.
  • But hey, it's something to think about, right?
  • These hydraulic brakes allow the Ascend-O-Pad to stop smoothly. Note that you can't really see them from where you are, but you ... uh ... you somehow sense they're there.
  • Yeah, that's it, you somehow sense that they're there. That's the ticket!
  • Hi, draulics!
  • You try to rust, chip, peel or repaint the walls of the Ascend-O-Pad, but the dual layers of expanded Polycorbomite prevent you!
  • The wall panels of the Ascend-O-Pad are formed from a core of Fibersteel between dual layers of expanded Polycorbomite sheathing that's guaranteed not to rust, chip, peel, or need repainting for at least twelve millenia.
  • This is probably more than you wanted to know.
  • You mistake the dual layers of Polycorbomite sheathing for some sort of lickable wallpaper, and you give the wall a lick.
  • Your keen janitorial instincts tell you that this button takes you to Lab A.
  • You deftly attempt to press the Lab A button with your tongue.
  • Unfortunately, you lack the lingual strength to depress the button fully. But you deduce from the taste that whoever pushed this button last has recently been sifting through sewage.
  • You press the Lab B button, but the Ascend-O-Pad doesn't move. Apparently you need some sort of clearance to get to Lab B.
  • So it won't open. I didn't want to go to Lab B anyway.
  • Every fiber of your being cries out, "This button will take me to Lab B!"
  • Take me to Lab B! I have clearance!
  • Believing you utterly, the Ascend-O-Pad immediately descends to Laboratory B, where it drops you off and you save the galaxy. The end.
  • AS IF!
  • You can't reach them, you're inside the Ascend-O-Pad and they're out in the shaft.
  • (A feeling not wholly unfamiliar to you!)
  • These lights illuminate the interior of the shaft, just in case someone falls down it and needs some light to die by.
  • It's no use screaming for help at a time like this!
  • Nobody cares what happens to you!
  • The box is permanently sealed.
  • They must've known you were coming.
  • This box contains the atmospheric equalization subcircuitry, which automatically monitors the atmospheres of all the floors and subtly corrects the Ascend-O-Pad's interior psi, O2 concentration, gravity and ambient fragrance.
  • What's the current atmosphere?
  • Strangely unfunny.
  • Don't touch it, you'll break the magic spell that keeps it working.
  • This display shows you the Ascend-O-Pad's current location.
  • You're about to ask, "Where am I?" until you notice that the little lights overhead actually spell out the name of the location! Wow!
  • You find numerous trap doors in the Ascend-O-Pad's floor, but all of them are locked with big, heavy, rusty padlocks. Too bad!
  • You are standing on the Ascend-O-Pad, a platform that moves up and down inside a shaft that connects with all the possible floors in this underground building.
  • You examine the surface of the Ascend-O-Pad with your tongue, but other than a fair amount of dirt, you don't come up with anything.
  • Your highly-developed sixth sense tells you that this button will take you to someone's quarters.
  • You attempt and fail to press the "Quarters" button with your tongue.
  • Mmmmm! Ben-Gay!
  • It feels like an elevator.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad works much like an elevator.
  • In fact, if you can figure out why we didn't just call it an elevator, please let us know.
  • Can anyone hear me?
  • Unfortunately, the player can!
  • Just walk on through. The portway opens automatically.
  • This portway interfaces the Ascend-O-Pad with most of the rooms in the Golden Lightyears Research Building.
  • You're far too much of a wuss to pry open the portal doors.
  • It feels open.
  • Apparently, the door's been sealed off since the explosion.
  • The portal is closed, signifying that you're on the Docking Bay level.
  • This portal is open, allowing you to pass through the shaft into one of the rooms.
  • Open, you!
  • Make way! Here I come!
  • The Ascend-O-Pad guide rails are, like elementary algebra, beyond your grasp.
  • The Ascend-O-Pad slides smoothly along these four rails, usually.
  • It's times like these that we know your elevator doesn't quite reach the top.
  • This port interfaces visiting shuttles with the Ascend-O-Pad.
  • These components are permanently sealed so that clumsy, ham-handed adventurers who like to fiddle with everything won't accidentally kill themselves.
  • These hermetically-sealed components house the Ascend-O-Pad's Direction Correction connections, the Quark Torque fork, and the Ascension-Descension Suspension Tension extensions.
  • Don't distract them. They're holding your life in their hands.
  • I don't know.
  • Heck, you can't even SAY "Liftbay Relay Outlay Array."
  • Beneath the Ascend-O-Pad, the Liftbay Relay Outlay Array quietly does its thing.
  • The Liftbay Relay Outlay Array is permanently lubricated. Licking it will not help.

510.msg[]

  • Dr. Beleauxs explains in exacting detail precisely what you'll need to do. For Stellar's sake, you'd better pay attention!
  • The Doctor explains that he has a plan. He wants you to pull the shuttle into Lab B.
  • Commander Kielbasa and that other guy look like they're just finishing up a conversation.
  • Janitor Wilco, Dr. Beleauxs and I were just talking about you.
  • Please report to Sharpei's quarters, Janitor Wilco. She is in need of someone with your special skill set. Be quick about it.
  • Yes, Sir.
  • Wilco!? If you don't follow my orders immediately, I'll bust you down ... oh, I forgot. You're already as low as you can get. Trust me. I'll make your life more miserable than it already is! Now, move it!
  • Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.
  • Utterly and totally bored with the incredibly slow on-line service, you wisely click it away.
  • Dr. Beleauxs is fortunately able to return you to your original size. (You wonder if he can make any parts bigger.)
  • Janitor! (VERY FIRMLY) I believe you were given specific orders. Carry them out immediately!
  • Oh, well, I ... um ... sorry. I'll get right on it, Sir.
  • Overwhelmed by the evidence you have confronted him with, the Doctor spills the beans.
  • Once you have finished loading the tracking software into your navigational computer, I will shrink your shuttle, with you in it, down to nanite scale.
  • I will then introduce the shuttle into a liquid which will serve as a vehicle for your injection into Stellar's bloodstream.
  • You consider switching the Multiband UV Wave Bath to UV-A so you can catch a quick tan, but you're pretty sure someone would yell at you about it.
  • Hey! They've got their own Multiband UV Wave Bath, straight out of the Edmundane Catalog.
  • I like how you make my shirt and teeth look so bright and snazzy!
  • You've got far more important things to do than read books right now.
  • (Like play computer games!)
  • Say, they've got all four volumes of Assic Iasimov's FOUNDATION trilogy!
  • These are old-fashioned books. You can't talk to them, print them out, edit them, transmit them, or upload them.
  • There's a nice variety of books on the doctor's shelf:
  • I think it's a damn box!!!
  • They're permanently attached to the counter. You're hosed!
  • A couple of bunsen burners sit on the counter.
  • Burn, baby, burn!
  • Those buttons seem to be self-explanatory. I wonder what they do.
  • Don't let the Crip Thrip out, it could be rabid, and there's nothing more dangerous than a rabid moth!
  • You peek inside the cage and see ...
  • ... a Crip Thrip, a kind of moth that beats you up, steals your team jacket, and then eats it.
  • The sound of your voice irritates the caged creatures and makes them jump up and down excitedly and hoot and holler.
  • (And stop giggling at the word "penal.")
  • You'll keep your hand out of the Ruby-Backed Flagellant's cage unless you're looking for an angry red welt across your knuckles.
  • (And who isn't?)
  • A beautiful Ruby-Backed Flagellant hops around in this cage, whipping itself with its prehensile tail.
  • In this cage, you can just make out the familiar form of an Orion Vivisectional Mudpuppy, the only creature in the universe that sedates itself, pins itself down, dissects itself, and lets you copy its lab notes.
  • Hey, hey, hey, careful! These endearing little furry purring creatures have only three rules: don't get them wet, don't feed them after midnight, and ...
  • Oops, wrong endearing little furry purring creatures.
  • This cage appears to be full of endearing little furry purring creatures. You vaguely remember seeing similar creatures on someone's screen saver.
  • Gee, Dad! It's a Northgateway with five jigabytes of RAM, a Molecular Memory hard disk with infinite capacity, a dodecaspeed CD-ROM drive, Microsloth-compatible mouse, and a built-in 10K-pin laser printer.
  • (Just three more jigabytes, and you can install OS/2 on it!)
  • You can't talk to a computer! What do you think this is, 20th Century Earth?
  • It looks like maybe it holds a set of books or something. (This would be something foreign to you.)
  • Just leave, Mr. Wilco. I have to (SLIGHT PAUSE) prepare for the opening of Golden Lightyears. I wonder what your commander would think of your annoying presence here? Why, he'd haul your keel and ... anyway, I must finish what I've started. Don't let the door mash your glutes.
  • What is this?
  • Well ... I ...
  • Is this supposed to prove something?
  • Well, uh ... actually ...
  • What you have there stacks up to nothing more than a significant waste of PolyPulp, Boy! Now, leave me to my work.
  • Is their any hope? What can we do?
  • I don't know. Let me think.
  • Why, I believe I have a plan that will work, Wilco. Pull your shuttle around to Lab B. You're going to get to know Stellar much more closely than you ever imagined.
  • Well, Dr. Beleauxs, I think you've got some explaining to do.
  • You're out of your mind, Wilco.
  • So, what do you have to say for yourself now, Doctor?
  • Confronted with the facts found in the files you located, he freaks and spills all.
  • Oh ... my ...
  • Eloquently stated.
  • I ... I didn't think this all the way through until I'd crossed my own personal ethical line. I was already ...
  • It had already gone too far. The experiments alone ... I thought I could do just this one thing and still live with myself.
  • Love can move a person to do some strange things, Wilco. She knew how I felt and used it to her advantage.
  • I think I know what you mean about that love thing ... But wait a minute. Slow down.
  • Are you saying you have the hots for ... er, I mean, you are actually romantically intrigued by SHARPEI?
  • Wow, you are serious. (LONG PAUSE)
  • I agree that love can make you do some weird stuff. In this case though, it made you do some stuff that was unethical and illegal, Doctor.
  • Where is Stellar Santiago? I know she was alive -- that her death was faked! What have you done with her?
  • Great Caesar's ghost! The woman ... she's still alive, but I'm afraid not much time remains.
  • She is? What do you mean, "not much time remains"?!
  • As you must realize by now, the Golden Lightyears project was merely a front for the research I'd been conducting per Sharpei's wishes.
  • She is intensely fearful of death. You probably didn't notice that she is getting up in age a bit.
  • (SARCASTICALLY) Yeah, who could have guessed that?
  • In very simple terms, Janitor Wilco ...
  • Excuse me, Janitor SECOND CLASS. As I was saying, Sharpei feared dying -- enough to take the lives of others to save her own. She knew I loved her. I remember the day I met her.
  • It was at the funeral of, oh, I believe it was her fourth husband, and I remember never having seen her look SO radiant! I fell for her -- hard. And she knew it. You should have seen her in black!
  • I'll pass, thanks. Just tell me about Stellar!
  • Okay, the bottom line is that I have developed a way to extend Sharpei's life by transferring her mental essence into the body of another. It was to be you until your friend Stellar Santiago got in the way. We thought no one would miss you. Go figure.
  • What I have done is to employ nanotechnology to take over the designated host body, as is happening with your friend as we speak.
  • Stellar's body is being taken over by Sharpei? Geez! But I don't understand! Is there anything we can do to stop it?!
  • I've never really thought of it that way.
  • Well, think about it NOW! We have to save Stellar. You can't let her die. You can redeem yourself at least to some degree, Doc.
  • As much as it pains me to admit it, you're right, Roger. You're right. (LONG PAUSE)
  • Okay, I think I may have a plan. WE can save her. There were some interesting spin-off technological breakthroughs. I'm going to send YOU in to stop Sharpei.
  • Say what? No, I don't think ...
  • It's her only chance. If you seriously care for your friend, you'll do this.
  • Oh. The only way, huh?
  • The only way.
  • Well ... Okay, then. I hope you're sure about this.
  • I'm positive. Here's how we shall go about it. You will move your shuttle into Lab B. Meanwhile, I will generate new software for your shuttle's navigational system which will help you locate the nanites -- the very small robotic devices I developed for the intrusion. One of them is Sharpei.
  • If you can stop Sharpei ... well, your friend's chances of survival improve immensely. Then ... then, once I have located and extracted YOU, I shall work to repair whatever damage may have been done to Stellar during the attempted incursion.
  • So, what do you have to say for yourself now, Doctor?
  • He's kind of gross-looking. Let's not.
  • He seems to be busy with his experiments.
  • It's Dr. Beleauxs, Delta Burksilon's token evil scientist.
  • Hello, Doctor.
  • Janitor Wilco? What in blazes are you doing here?
  • Well, Doc, I got a distress call.
  • So, why are you here?
  • Because I know it originated here. In fact, it was from Stellar Santiago.
  • You're out of your mind, Wilco. Now go away and leave me alone. I've got important work to do. Good-bye!
  • I ... I know something's up here, Doc, and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it. You'll be sorry, Pal!!
  • Yes, whatever you say, Wilco. Just get out of my face!
  • You know, he's a bit ticked at you. I'd leave him alone unless you've got something really important to bug him about.
  • Wilco, I insist that you leave me alone!
  • What do you think you're doing, you nincompoop?! I'd appreciate it if you would leave my computer alone while I'm working.
  • Mr. Wilco, I would advise you to stay out of my personal belongings. I do not want to have to get physical with you. Mind you, I will if I have to. And don't think I can't take you!
  • These are the call buttons for the Ascend-O-Pad.
  • Come get me! Here I am!
  • Insert your own excuse here for why you can't pick up the flask.
  • You think it's an Erlenmeyer flask.
  • As usual, though, you're sadly mistaken. An Erlenmeyer flask is conical; this flask is spherical. Shows what YOU know.
  • There's nothing to drink in the flask.
  • After your recent experience on the SCS Goliath, you've had quite enough of crawling around below floorboards to last you for a while. They'll have to find a fresher sap.
  • It's too dark to make out any details beneath the grid, but you think you can hear whirrs, clanks and clicks far, far below.
  • Just for the purposes of exploration, you hork a loogie down the grid to see how long it takes to splat at the bottom.
  • You never hear a splat!
  • Coooooooool!
  • You hazily recall from a childhood experience that waving your hand in front of an electric eye is a good way to need the top half of your head surgically re-attached.
  • There's some sort of infrared motion detector unit at floor level.
  • You hazily recall from a childhood experience that licking an electric eye is a good way to need your torso surgically re-attached.
  • The tank of bunsen seems firmly rooted.
  • (Unlike yourself.)
  • Judging from the way this tank is hooked up to the bunsen burner above it, you figure it must be a big container of bunsen.
  • You guys must be under a lot of pressure.
  • ALL ACCOUNTING FUNCTIONS ARE CURRENTLY DOWN DUE TO BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE IN THIS MATTER.
  • These aren't on-line yet. Apparently, budget isn't a big concern here.
  • It's a button to access bean-counter land.
  • After a click of the screen button, Plodigy begins to painfully slowly fill the screen.
  • Oh, screw it. Even you don't have the time or patience for this.
  • It's a button to go in to some sort of communications mode, as indicated by its title.
  • INSERT CYBERSPACE JACK NOW.
  • Nothing happens. Maybe something needs to be plugged into the jack plug opening.
  • Yeow. Something's happening now!
  • It's a button to operate cyberfunctions.
  • It's just an old-fashioned disk drive.
  • That's an interesting idea. Not a good one ... but interesting nonetheless.
  • It looks like a cyberjack plug receptor.
  • It's a touch-sensitive screen.
  • It's a monitor. You've seen one before. In fact, you're seeing two right now.
  • I wouldn't screw with it if I were you. The doctor already holds you in poor favor. Messing with this might really fry his shorts.
  • As indicated in the picture, it's a power button.
  • ALL RESEARCH FUNCTIONS ARE DOWN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE DUE TO INSUFFICIENT FUNDING. TALK TO YOUR LOCAL CONGRESSPERSON TO COMPLAIN.
  • Ah, who wants to look at boring old research records. Try something else.
  • It's, as labeled, a button to access boring research information.
  • You have no use for that, you silly little janitor.
  • It appears to be an old 1586 circuit board. Oh, that's right, you're not supposed to be a tekkie. We hope we didn't confuse you.
  • It's just an old, beat-up chip.
  • You've heard of black boxes, haven't you? Well, this one's red.
  • I was only going to ...
  • Spare me the details and please leave me and my chair in peace! You're not even supposed to be here.
  • Hey, this guy ordered himself one nice desk chair!
  • You have surprisingly little to say to the chair.
  • The door is a microbe-safe biofilter with quasi-redundant filter seals. You'll never get it open by hand.
  • This is the door to the Ascend-O-Pad. Unless you're on the other side of it, in which case it's the door to Laboratory A.
  • Hey you, door! Let's see some opening and closing action!
  • You see no on/off switch. That's because this lamp has a motion-detection rheostat that turns it on whenever anyone enters the room.
  • It's also cheaper to animate that way.
  • Halogen! And it's from the Schlepper Image catalog! Swank!
  • You take possession of it.
  • It appears to be a Callahan moddie. Hmmm, seems you remember someone talking about these recently.
  • There are no controls on this monitor. It operates with an Optical Retinal Feedback FT, which allows it to constantly monitor your eyes and adjust itself automatically for contrast, brightness, hue, tint, and convergence.
  • And it's got works-in-a-drawer for easy on-site service!
  • On Dr. Beleauxs' monitor, you see the familiar opening screen of "Plodigy, the World's Most Leisurely Bulletin Board." (Yeah, right.)
  • Sorry, this computer uses a primitive manual interface.
  • I thought I ...
  • I don't care WHAT you thought! Take your hands off my private papers and get out of here!
  • You pick up the memo and read through it. Sharpei was concerned that the Secondary Transplant Subject had "evaded recruitment" and that steps would need to be taken to either procure the subject forthwith or find a new STS.
  • As usual, you're not really sure what they're talking about, but you're sure you don't like the sound of it.
  • This page appears to be a memo from Sharpei to Dr. Beleauxs.
  • You begin to read the memo out loud, but the sound of your own voice always makes you queasy.
  • I was just ...
  • No no no, I don't have time for your gibbering. Just leave that alone. And don't slam the door behind you.
  • You quickly thumb through the report. It goes into nauseating detail about how certain parts of the Orbital Village were constructed using microtechnology. A race of microrobots, developed here in the Lab by Dr. Beleauxs, built critical sections of the Village that would've been hazardous to assemble by normal means.
  • This helped the project come in under budget and in record time. Moreover, the technology developed for the project can be applied in countless other ways, further defraying the cost of the research and development.
  • The implications of this don't hit you for several years.
  • You start to read the report to yourself, but stop when you start to nod off.
  • What in the Pleiades do you think you're up to?
  • I was only trying ...
  • I'm not interested in your excuses. If you're not going to make yourself useful, kindly leave me to my work!
  • You surreptitiously page through the memo. It's a little too dense for you (there's a switch!), but it's apparently a discussion of how to graft attenuated neurons to computerized controllers, whatever that means.
  • Your brain starts to hurt, so you replace the memo.
  • You try sounding out some of the longer words, but you still can't understand most of what's contained in the memo.
  • You'll flood the entire containment area with cybergenes!
  • Now we want you to go sit in the corner and just THINK about what you almost did.
  • A cybergenic incubator! You've heard about them, you've seen pictures in magazines, but you never thought you'd actually get to see one up close!
  • Big whoop.
  • Yes, it resembles a Tootsie Roll Pop(TM), but you're still better off not applying your tongue to the cybergenic incubator.
  • Some printouts have emerged from the Doctor's printer.
  • You're hesitant to touch that, what with everything in here being so clean and dust-free and all.
  • Wow, a mad scientist working on a planet called "Delta Burksilon." You wonder what he's doing here. Designing women perhaps?
  • Sorry.
  • Nano nano!
  • Say! Sturdy!
  • This depiction of a reagent holder is based on science fact and current NASA research, science so hard you could bounce an asteroid off of it.
  • It's meant to hold beakers, not to hold your tongue. So, hold your tongue.
  • You wipe a few crumbs off the corner of the lab table.
  • Corner? What corner? But ... okay, I'm confused.
  • This lab table has a pleasingly round shape and a conveniently flat surface.
  • You decide to table the dumb remarks for now.
  • You write "wash me" in the dust on the lab table.
  • This is clever of me!
  • This lab table has a conveniently round shape and pleasingly flat surface.
  • You counter with another silly remark.
  • A Trithisonium bulb produces temperatures in excess of 2500 degrees Fahrenheit, which is slightly more than enough to instantly charcoal-broil your skin.
  • Thus sealing in the natural juices.
  • The lab table is illuminated by a full-spectrum Trithisonium bulb that simulates the naturally-occurring light of a trinary star system.
  • You have no particular desire to broil your tongue ... at least, not now.
  • Nice try, but highly-refined Smegminium such as this weighs over two tons per gram.
  • It also won't win you any friends on the singles circuit.
  • It looks like a typical tank of Smegminium, a cheesy substance used in the manufacture of projectiles, thrusters, and pistons.
  • Way too disgusting. Cut that RIGHT out.
  • Hey, trust us, you don't want to get within ten feet of Fresnon.
  • The markings on this tank indicate that it's full of Fresnon, a deadly nerve gas.
  • Symptoms of exposure include slurred speech, a red neck, raisin-like wrinkling of the face and extremities, and a sudden fondness for livestock.
  • Yeah, you try sucking down a lungful of Fresnon and you'll end up marrying your cousin and shooting rats down at the junkyard for kicks.
  • You take possession of the Callahan moddie.
  • There's nothing in here for which you have any use.
  • It's just tekkie stuff. There is a Callahan moddie here. Seems you remember talking about those things to someone recently.
  • It's just boring tekkie stuff.
  • That's odd, they're all marked ROGER WILCO: DO NOT TOUCH.
  • That looks like a standard test tube rack.
  • Nice rack you've got there!
  • It's not your job to change the lightbulbs here. But someone seriously needs to.
  • Just what this room needs: a wall light that gives off a pleasant red glow.
  • Can you change color, or are you just going to ignore me?
  • The monitor is too high overhead to reach.
  • An overhead readout constantly displays the Lab's status.
  • Oddly, it reports that all conditions report green. Perhaps it's color blind.
  • Shouldn't you just say "Condition Red"?
  • You've already got plenty of garbage in your inventory.
  • It's an ergonomically-designed aerodynamic hole to throw trash in.
  • Didn't anyone ever teach you not to apply your mouth to garbage receptacles?
  • You're not sure whether to turn it on, turn it off, open it, close it, disassemble it, pet it, wear it, whip up a batch of Margaritas in it, launch it, or clean it. So, in your decisive way, you do nothing with it.
  • This is the only piece of equipment in the Lab that's totally unfamiliar to you.
  • It appears biomechanical in nature, with a metallic skin that seems to expand and contract slightly.
  • Apparently it is either non-sentient ... or sentient but a good enough judge of character not to want to encourage you.

520.msg[]

  • Hey, what the ...
  • While we await a fully formed thought from Roger, it should be mentioned that there seems to be some sort of gas entering the room through the left vent.
  • Hey, there seems to be some sort of gas entering the room through the left vent!
  • I seem to be in a world of deep ... (SUDDEN REALIZATION) Ah, geez, the door!
  • Janitor Second Class Roger Wilco reporting as ordered, Ma'am.
  • Wilco, you say.
  • Yes, Ma'am.
  • Well, Mr. Wilco, I expected you here some time ago. I've been kept waiting for MINUTES now!
  • I'm very sorry, Ma'a ... (INTERRUPTED BY SHARPEI)
  • Ah, save the pathetic whimperings for your StarCon superiors, which I would expect includes everyone and everything on the food chain over there.
  • Ma'am, I came as ...
  • Young man, I lack the time, and most importantly, the PATIENCE to indulge you as you whine your way from one excuse to the next. May we please just begin?
  • Sorry, but I wasn't briefed on what tasks would be required of me.
  • You are a janitor, Mr.Wilco! What do you THINK I want from you, a heart transplant? What has become of StarCon?
  • When my fifth husband, Admiral Blundtphang, served, the crop of up-and-coming cadets seemed to have such promise. I recall this one rather striking cadet who ... oh well, never mind that.
  • But you! I pray you do not typify what might be slithering down the halls of our formerly prestigious academy. That is one thing I do not look forward to witnessing.
  • Get to work, Mr Wilco. You'll find a mop and a bucket right over there. I have no time to devote to your education. That would take a lifetime and the most copious amount of patience a universe could muster. My life is soon to expire. Please, just clean. I must rest now.
  • Ahem! ... Mr. Wilco, I asked you to mop the floors. Do I have to get Commander Kielbasa in here to get you to do your job?
  • No, Ma'am. I'll get right on it, Ma'am.
  • Mr. Wilco, are the little voices in your head drowning me out? Get in there and take care of that toilet. My report of your performance to your commander is not looking too favorable at this time.
  • Yes, Ma'am. I'm very sorry, Ma'am. It'll never happen again, Ma'am.
  • Mr. Wilco, please rattle the handle on that commode. It is positively maddening.
  • You got it, Toot ... ooh, uh, I mean, right away, Ma'am. Whatever I can do.
  • Please do it -- and quietly! I must have my rest.
  • Wilco, did I stutter? Get my medicine -- immediately!
  • I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'll take care of it.
  • Mr. Wilco, it is time for me to take my meds. Please fetch my trysonixsortium from the medicine cabinet.
  • Yes, Ma'am!
  • (UNDER HIS BREATH) Maybe I can get this old hag to overdose.
  • What was that, Janitor?!
  • Uh, nothing, Ma'am. I'll get those for you right away.
  • (URGENTLY) Wilco!
  • (CALMLY) Oh, hi, Stellar. What're you doing here?
  • There's no time to talk, Roger! We've got get out of here NOW!
  • ONE!
  • TWO!
  • (MORE LABORED) THREE!
  • Seems like a few sequels since we've been in any bathrooms. I know what you've been thinking. You're probably thinking, "Have they waited four sequels to do bathroom humor or has it been just three?"
  • Well, to tell you the truth, in all the sequel-generating excitement we've kind of lost track ourselves. So you've got to ask yourself just one question. Are they hard-up enough to resort to that level of humor at this point in the game?
  • Nah, not yet ... That is, I MEAN, we like to think we've slithered up a fair number of floors from the basement level of the comedic food chain.
  • Either that or it's one of those relative things. Maybe it's because Al just continues to lower the basement. Anyway, uh, what were we talking about?
  • This, as clearly indicated by the porcelinite throne and other similiar types of hardware, is a lavatory, head, restroom, think tank, can, throne, library, waste extrusion facility, etc.
  • This would appear to be the bathroom door. Perhaps not everything should be shared.
  • Yes, you've seen the holo-ads! You've seen the infomercials! Here it is, ladies and gentleman! The one, the only, the CrapMatic Adjustable Bed!
  • Yes, there's no mistaking it. The programmable mattress shapes to at least five different skeletal types as well as two non-skeletal modes. The CrapMatic harnesses the latest in time-proven, very versatile -- and patented -- HydroRiser technology.
  • Don't be the last one in your colony to own the most capital-conscious therapeutic stationary device known to being-kind, and at a price you will find stunning. (DISCLAIMER SPOKEN RAPIDLY) Some exo-skeletal types not supported. Not available in all quadrants. Please allow two to three light years for delivery.
  • (ROGER'S MIND) Geez, she's old-looking. I mean OLD-looking. Her face looks like an aerial map of a primitive irrigation project. You have the urge to grab a pen a draw topographic lines around it just for fun.
  • There's this one "Grand Canyon" kind of area where erosion in the skin folds may reveal dermal layers indicating this person's age in epochs. Geologists and Dermatologists alike would compete viciously for the opportunity to explore this Lost Dutchman Mine of faces.
  • Lodged in those imperceptibly deep folds is material that could be carbon-14 dated, perhaps holding keys to the very creation of the universe itself. Oh, yeah, this is Space Quest. Let's just say she's old.
  • Despite your proclivity for screwing with things you should not, you decide to pass this time.
  • There sure are some cool-looking machines here. That one has neat blue lights.
  • You as a janitor would only have a clue as to what was contained in those bottles if the contents showing through them resembled some sort of waste product or cleaning supply.
  • Like you need another one of these!
  • Ah, a bucket, one of the staples of any janitor's arsenal.
  • I guess even the ill rich must have some extravagances. Where's the cyberpoodle? Oh well, they're making them too well now, anyway. You just can't seem to kick them hard enough.
  • You don't need it and you aren't here to play with stuff.
  • It looks like an empty specimen jar. Maybe later if you find some free time, you could give it a fill. Keeps the techs guessing.
  • Things are stored in there probably. It's incredibly common.
  • The HydroRiser piston gleams proudly, truly up to the task of propping up the most expansive of dermally housed humanoids.
  • The doormat sucks you absolutely clean of any kind of debris, virus, bacteria, lawyer or transient product manager which may have become attached to your person. Pretty cool, eh?
  • Mr. Wilco. Where DO you think you're going? I am sure my friend the Commander of StarCon intended for you to attend to me until otherwise ordered. I'd hate to have to tell him you were anything but committed to the task assigned and entrusted to you by your superiors.
  • Drats! It won't budge. I've got to get out of here somehow! No windows and the walls are solid bulkhead. And I'm too big to flush myself out of here. This is the only way. What would MacGyver do now?
  • You realize your strength alone will be no match for the mechanized door.
  • You are able to budge it only a couple of more inches -- not enough to slip through, though. Must have been that depression-induced eating binge you went on after being demoted.
  • All of a sudden behind you, Stellar beams into the room and helps pull the door!
  • ROGER, PULL HARDER!
  • You've heard that sentence before, but with a different verb.
  • The door grudgingly opens a few inches. Just as it does, Stellar gives you a big push from behind, knocking you into the turboshaft just as the door slams shut -- for what seems to be for the final time. Unfortunately, Stellar's still on the inside!
  • You know, if you do what Sharpei asks, we might all get out of here a lot more quickly.
  • Good thinking! Wedged in the door, the manual override control causes the piston to strain against the door.
  • It pushes a few inches and seems to strain at that point.
  • Wow! Suddenly you see another pair of hands.
  • This is apparently her dresser. With glaciated facial terrain like that, the escort services must rake it in.
  • Cool. Another machine that lights up and goes "PING."
  • Be polite. You should only do that if Sharpei asks you to.
  • The headboard unit houses a really nifty eight-track laser disc player.
  • It looks like a heart monitor. It must be amazingly sensitive since this crusty old beast appears rather heartless.
  • Ah, the door which allowed you into this room.
  • It's a little high up on the wall for what you have in mind.
  • There's a small hole in the wall here. Perhaps it's for the central vacuum system. How you've longed for StarCon to upgrade to that kind of system!
  • There seem to be a few redundant systems monitors here. A more alert person would be led to believe that someone has accounted for the possible arrival of different types of humanoids in this otherwise personal facility.
  • It's a cabinet containing old Sharpei's drugs.
  • I can't find her medicine! I don't think she knows what she's talking about.
  • The cart contains many devices which could be held in the palm of one's hand, but, for the sake of the much more fiscally important impressions which must be made on patients, administrators, and wealthy contributors, they are incorporated into large carts with neat devices which make nifty "beep" and "ping" sounds. Helps the funding.
  • These are supplies of a medical nature for the "cratered one".
  • It's some sort of medical unit. You don't what it is. After all, you're a janitor, not a doctor, dammit!
  • It's a neat round design on the floor to break up the flatness of its look but more than anything else, it serves to be more of a clod trap for people like you who trip over it even though it's absolutely flush with everything around it. Go figure.
  • Yeah, you just can't get enough of that mopping action.
  • You've seen plenty of these babies in your lifetime.
  • A wall-mounted interface appears to have jacks for the flow of data and/or power.
  • Ah, one of the much-heralded "Just Say No To Death" devices designed to make you at least feel perky and more upbeat about the big "D".
  • Instead of the nervous-making blips and occasional flat-line -- depending on what kind of night the old doc had -- these machines seem to help make the whole death thing less of a downer.
  • With these machines the survivors can leave the room humming a final but not so downbeat ending theme or replay in their minds the pleasant electronic wither of the monitor when the heart makes that final squeeze, instead of some real downer thing like last words or something inconsiderately spewed at that last moment by the soon-to-be-declared deceased.
  • While it looks like it might detach, you have no use for it. Don't be greedy.
  • You give the piston a yank and, sure enough, it comes loose in your hands. Perhaps it was your raw strength. More than likely, it was defective.
  • The HydroRiser piston seems to be the real power behind the adjustable bed.
  • A round inset light glows softly in the morbid setting.
  • This is the emergency light that helps you find the toilet in case you find out that something really bad is about to happen even when the ship's main power is down.
  • Some people have security blankets. For you, it's the bathroom.
  • It's a red panel in the foreground. You really don't know what it does, nor do you care.
  • That's a joke can. The old-timers use it to fake the new interns into thinking they have sucking chest wounds. It's a real hoot.
  • It's some kind of red medical-type thing.
  • This is the personal medical suite of the legendary Sharpei. She spends her advancing days here at the ever-expanding retirement complex on Delta Burksilon V.
  • It's some scanner-looking thing above the bed.
  • Don't even try it, Wilco! Just do what is asked of you.
  • That's not going to help! Move it, Man!
  • The wrinkled one rests quietly in her CrapMatic Adjustable Bed.
  • She seems to be resting rather peacefully.
  • Hello, Ma'am.
  • Just do your duties, janitor.
  • As fulfilling as a conversation with Sharpei might be, you can't talk to her in her current state.
  • A sink uncharacteristically clutters up the restroom.
  • (GO TO 500 - TURBOSHAFT TO CONTINUE ANIMATION SEQUENCE?)
  • It's Stellar's hand! You're wasting time!
  • That'd be way too much like manual labor and we know how you feel about that. Also, they're useless to you.
  • You look at it but nothing strikes your fancy.
  • A porcelinite throne serves as the centerpiece of the bathroom.
  • Through the passage of time some personal habits haven't changed with humanoids of earth heritage. Although no one knows the true origin, people have been hanging rolls of flimsy paper called azwipe next to their extruded item disposal units. Since no one is certain of its actual use, it is a mere cultural decoration in most circles.
  • A clean towel dutifully hangs, awaiting its next use.
  • It looks like a vein juicer.
  • A vent for careful climatic control takes up a significant portion of this wall segment.
  • A contaminated waste items receptacle stands awaiting contaminated waste items.
  • This is a circuit analysis diagnostics unit.

530.msg[]

  • The shuttle is nicely miniaturized by the beam deal. Hopefully, it is reversible. Perhaps you should have asked about that. There are some things you can't afford to have smaller.
  • (THIS IS A NEWLY ADDED PROGRAM CONTROL ROOM ON DELTA BURKSILON)

540.msg[]

  • Oh, there you are, Wilco.
  • Nice shot!

550.msg[]

  • You smartly drop the board in place, spanning the gap between the two bridge sections.
  • Leave it alone. It's just there for decoration.
  • Hey, leave the signs alone. Were you born in North Fork or what?!
  • Well, there's still plenty of room to grow. But if it's going to be as well-developed as what's in the foreground, why bother? Don't you just love bureaucracy?
  • Forget it. You don't resemble that bird. Well, except for the pinfeathers in those chicken legs of yours.
  • Hey! FREE bird seed! And so conveniently placed under a huge boulder, too!
  • Nah, leave it where it is. You never know when you'll need it again.
  • It's the board you so cleverly used to span the bridge gap.
  • That's quite a leap. You'd be able to clear it if you could get a running start. But you can't run in this game, only walk. In this Space Quest, you can't switch to "Sprint".
  • Were you hoping for a cyberprick?
  • Whoops!
  • Apparently, it does exist. As you plummet to your cyberdeath, you are confronted by a variant of an age-old question: if you fall and hit the ground within cyberspace and no one is there to hear it, will you make an audible splat?
  • Yep.
  • It's an office sign.
  • Talk about a brave new world. You'd better be up for it if you plan to explore this cyberterrain.
  • This cyberterrain is just a little arid. It's just more evidence to confirm the old adage that, if there's time enough to do it, there's time enough to do it half-assed.
  • For those of you who aren't paying attention, that's a stop sign.
  • Not even cyberspace is immune from the mentally deficient types who shoot at road signs. How macho they must think they are.

560.msg[]

  • Bet you can't fit that thing in your pants.
  • Guess I was wrong. It does fit. There must be plenty of spare room in there.
  • A long section of board lies on the ground.
  • There's nothing you can do now. It did have potential at one time.
  • A carelessly discarded bucket of building material has been spilled and allowed to harden.
  • You etch your initials in the rust. Like anyone will notice.
  • Girders -- some of the building materials some airheaded committee thought necessary for their project -- lay unused and heavily rusted.
  • You give the rust a lick. Mmmm, mmm good.
  • The information highway needs a bit more TLC ... about $50 trillion worth.
  • There's no Monolith Burger in this game, so there's not much need for it. The non-existent workers sure aren't putting a strain on it.
  • Oh, Momma! I'm guessing one too many burritos for the last guy in here!
  • Hello ...
  • It sounds real empty.
  • A rag hangs from the sawhorse. Who knows what it last wiped up.
  • Lordy, Lordy, Lordy! You want to stick this rag of unknown spillages in your mouth? Momma!
  • This seems the to be the contractor's office for the information superhighway. It's not too congested.
  • Hello! Is there anybody out there?
  • Sounds as uncongested as it looks.
  • It's as useless to you as it is where it stands.
  • Old highway safety devices recycled from either a decade or ten years ago stand alert and ready for the non-existent workers to use.
  • A screwdriver lies on the ground, probably discarded by the malcontent who vandalized the sign.
  • Remembering how cool Manuel Auxveride looks with a toothpick hanging casually from his mouth, you contemplate trying a screwdriver. You've heard that bigger is better -- a few times too many!
  • Fresh out of spray paint, you are only able to read it.
  • The sign says it all. There was much talk and rhetoric about the information superhighway, but the executive and legislative branches seem quite opposed to getting together on just about anything either one of them introduces ... just look at the space program.
  • Anyway, the frustration of a former employee is documented in the amendments to the "Opens" date.
  • It's the skeleton of a skyscraper curently under construction.
  • At least they've gotten a good start on the executive headquarters. Guess that's business as usual.
  • A blue sky complete with moon is visible above the fog of cyberspace.
  • It's been sitting far too long to be able to start now.
  • It's a BFT 9000 cyberearth mover.
  • It feels trailer-like.
  • This is the temporary on-site supervisor's office. It was abandoned with the rest of the project once funding was slashed.
  • Nah, you decide to pass since you've never really aquired a taste for oxidized paint.
  • As nifty a souvenir as that would make, you don't want to risk the pocket splinters.
  • In case you are able to see text only and not pictures, the sign says "office".
  • Come on, now! You really want to look through the garbage? Didn't you get enough of that in your quarters on the DeepShip?
  • It's a trash can that probably hasn't been emptied in a loooong time. By the looks of this place, it needs to be a LOT bigger.
  • It's out of commission now, but you did always dream of driving one of these babies when you were a rugrat.
  • I thought that phase passed in the seventies.
  • These weeds are a handy place to mark your territory. Go ahead ... no one's looking.
  • A cute little whirlwind races by. Kind of reminds you of those warm and fuzzy nuclear holocaust movies they showed you when you were a kid. Don't forget -- duck and cover.

570.msg[]

  • EX-cuse me, Mr. Wilco. Those are reference files only and not available for loan. You may leave, but the folders will remain here.
  • Goodbye. Come back. We're here to serve you blah blah bah. Don't you have something you should be doing?
  • You give the desktop bell a tap to get the attention of Sis Inny.
  • It looks strangely like a bell.
  • Does your number match the one shown by the counter?
  • Yo, Bit Boy. Do you like standing in line? You already have file room access. Move it!
  • No, uh, I don't seem to have that one, but ...
  • I A M S O R R Y, S I R! (PAUSE) Strangely enough, there is no provision for "buts" in this system. You either have the number shown or you do not.
  • Now, please await the calling of your number. Thank you very much. I have important things to do.
  • As a matter of fact, I do possess that number. Read it and weep, Pixel Woman.
  • Oh, no, you can't possibly ...
  • Oh. (SLIGHT PAUSE THEN IRRITATED) Well, I guess you're right.
  • You bet your palette, little 32 by 32 pixel mama.
  • Your virtual breath can get no mintier.
  • You virtually eat the nearly real mint. Your virtual breath is now virtually minty fresh.
  • Similiar to the mint bowl found on the desks of receptionists in those pre-super information highway days, a mint candy icon symbolically takes up valuable desktop space.
  • Either somebody sneezed in a major way or this constitutes the remains of someone in the virtual waiting room. Virtual death seems as real as the real thing.
  • That's a clock icon.
  • Ahh, that's the thing about cyberspace. We don't HAVE to let you close Windows! We control your picture.
  • That looks like the close box.
  • I wouldn't touch him if I were you.
  • Looks like a programmer just prior to shipping.
  • But he might fall apart. And the smell really isn't worth the cool visual, believe me!
  • It looks like some poor slob actually waited for his number to be called -- and died for his troubles.
  • Guess this guy never quite recovered from KQ7. He's getting a bit moldy.
  • A darling little fan icon decorates the accessories program group.
  • (SASSY) Just what do you think you're doing, Sir!
  • Well, I ... uhhh ... I didn't think you'd mind if I just looked through your files.
  • And I thought I'd seen it all. Just step back and wait your turn.
  • You may just have improved your chances of getting to the files with that slick little manuever. Sometimes you do surprise me, Roger.
  • Cool. That looks like the file place.
  • Whatever. It still blows. Even a lowly pond-sucking janitor knows that.
  • Well, you hold your breath and I'll hold what I want while waiting for it and we'll see whose ...
  • Cheese it. Someone is listening to us and I'm certain they didn't pay to hear this.
  • You're right. They'd probably like to hear more of me. I am the hero.
  • Get your head out. That's not a good thing to do.
  • What, you expect a help function for only $59.95?
  • Don't be lookin' for your father's Playboys in here, either!
  • This game's already as big and bold as it's gonna get.
  • Like that's gonna happen. Who do you think we are, Microsoft?
  • This feature won't be ready until Win2095 ships.
  • This feature couldn't muster enough congressional support to budget it.
  • I already have the right number.
  • Wow, isn't it cool the way the number card on the wall matches the number changer?!
  • Ohhhh. This must be one of those ... puzzles again.
  • I guess that's a good number. I prefer the numbers 6 and 9 myself.
  • Uh oh. Looks like it could be a long wait for you, too. The spirit of DMV lives on.
  • You have none.
  • The cyberprinter accepts your cyberfile gratefully, and begins to print. The question is, what exactly is the output of a cyberprinter?
  • Well, what do you know! Maybe there is something to this superhero reputation thing after all.
  • And after that episode with the eggbeater, I thought you'd never impress me again.
  • What do you know, an OoohLets PukeHard Fusion 500!
  • Although just a false front icon, it holds the promise of a tomorrow where true plug-and-play AM radio is no longer just a dream.
  • That's the refreshments folder.
  • You saw it here first -- a preview of the famed information superhighway!
  • Wow!
  • Wow! This makes my nipples hard.
  • Look, they even plan to have screen savers. A good idea for when those lines are all tied up. Who says they aren't thinking ahead?
  • Don't touch her, she's cranky. Ring the bell.
  • That, boys and girls, is Sis Inny. She runs things around here like an iron maiden, with the firmness of titanium BVDs, with the control of a steel belt-reinforced brassiere.
  • Do you have a number, Sir? I can't help you unless you have a number.
  • Very funny, Sir. Please wait until YOUR number is called.
  • Next!
  • Numbered cybercards hang here, chiming peacefully in the cyberbreeze.
  • Cut! Wait a minute! What's is this "chiming in the cyberspace" crap? Scott, get over here! Change this.
  • What? Frikkn' director! This guy wouldn't know a good line if it climbed up his ... oh, here!
  • All right, that's better. Try it again, Gary.
  • Numbers hang here.
  • It's not pick-up day.
  • Very tidy. A trash can. That might be a perfect place to store all those vital "screen saving" programs. Like that cool Yassir Arafat version you downloaded from POL.
  • Pardon me, but I'm just a little nervous about this trashcan thing. Didn't someone already go to court and spend wads of buckazoids over this?
  • Gary, Gary, Gary! Just read the copy, for chrissakes! We're not paying you to think. We just want that pretty voice of yours. (UNDER BREATH) All right, ya' frigg'n union geek.
  • Okay, people. Mr. Owens has gathered himself together and we are ready to pick it up from that oh so fascinating Barney Fife-meets-Perry Mason segue. All right. Animation to speed ...
  • ... and roll!
  • This is the magic window whence you came.

580.msg[]

  • Now there's a good expenditure of time.
  • The ceiling has all the accoutrements any self-respecting ceiling should have. To be honest, it's not quite what you imagined when you thought of superhighway.
  • Yeah, good idea! You could climb to the top! And then, when you get to the ceiling, you could ...
  • ... slide back down and try to do something useful.
  • An aluminite column. It's very warehousey.
  • You stroke the sign but, despite your generous ministrations, it is unaffected.
  • Do I really have to tell you what that is?
  • Massive file cabinets stretch off into the distance. This should be a cinch.
  • Nothing's burning. What's wrong with you?
  • A darn capable fire extinguisher stands ready to save all this paper in the event of a fire. They've spared no expense.
  • You give it a brief thought but you realize you've felt plenty of floors in your career and one more isn't gonna pitch your tent.
  • This floor looks pretty clean -- at least by your standards.
  • No good. All the WD-40 and LZ gel in the galaxy aren't gonna budge this corroded hunk of useless hardware.
  • Oh, that doesn't look good. Apparently the ladder hasn't been relocated in some time.
  • You seem quite interested in the simplest forms of illumination. This is an old style of incandescent illumination. It was deemed inefficient because of the large quantity of by-product heat it generates, but you know government contracts. They probably have enough of these to last longer than William Shatner's first chest toupee.
  • What a nice touch! Cyberlights which need replacing, just like the real ones. They sure do think of everything in here, don't they?
  • Yeah, you need more junk!
  • There are some useless papers strewn about the floor. This is inexcusable -- especially since it's not YOUR floor to clean up.
  • You do enough of that in your off time.
  • Cooling pipes are seen strewn throughout the game to cool these hot graphics.
  • Oh, great. Nice automated filing system!
  • Sorry, but we don't have enough for everyone.
  • Each sign denotes the range of alphabetized files in that row.

590.msg[]

  • That file apparently doesn't want to open.
  • (crackly) Now, now, now (PATRONIZING)... what have we here? You haven't found the clue to this file's existence, yet somehow you know ... Perhaps subtracting a few hundred points from your score will teach you!
  • Nyah! Nyah! Nyah! Cheaters never prosper!
  • THAT drawer isn't even CLOSE to a drawer that starts with the letter R.
  • Man, these filing cabinets are a mess. Even I could keep them up better than this.
  • Product Liability
  • Project: Immortality*4
  • Prokofiev
  • Prometheus
  • Pronghorn
  • Propaganda
  • Propeller-Heads
  • Prostate
  • Behan, Brendan
  • Behavioral Sciences
  • Beiderbecke, Bix
  • Beirut, Lebanon
  • Belasco, David
  • Beleauxs, Dr. H.*1
  • Belinsky, Vissarion
  • Bellamy, Ralph
  • Rancid, Nigel*3
  • Rand, Ayn
  • Randolph-Macon W.C.
  • Rankin, Jeanette
  • Raspberries
  • Rasputin, Grigori
  • Rats
  • Rattlesnakes
  • San Francisco
  • Sanger, Margaret
  • Sans-Culottes
  • Sans Souci
  • Santa Claus
  • Santayana, George
  • Santiago, Chile
  • Santiago, Stellar*2
  • Sharif, Omar
  • Sharpei*5
  • Shaw, Irwin
  • Sheen, Charlie
  • Sheen, Martin
  • Sheep
  • Sherman, Allan
  • Sherman, William T.
  • Shetland Ponies
  • Space Medicine
  • Space Quest Team!**
  • Space Quest 7
  • Space Shuttle
  • Space Station
  • Space-Time
  • Spatial Coordination
  • Crud. I can't seem to reach it from here.
  • I don't see how I can walk up there.
  • As much fun as it is to see you plant your face on the granite floor, we advise against it. After all, you'll just have to clean up the blood afterwards.
  • General Drawer Failure. Please step off and try another approach.
  • You get the idea .... don't you?
  • That looks like a heckuva jump. Maybe I should get off these files first.
  • Here we are, enjoying a humorous, well-coded game with great art, and now we have to look in a friggin' file cabinet. Good thing you didn't know about this when you bought the game!
  • A
  • B
  • C
  • D
  • E
  • F
  • G
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • L
  • M
  • N
  • O
  • P
  • Q
  • R
  • S
  • T
  • U
  • V
  • W
  • X
  • Y
  • Z
  • Oh, great. Nice automated filing system.

600.msg[]

  • You've arrived at the nose!
  • There are pores all over this area, but one looks to be a bit dome-shaped and somewhat transluscent.
  • It looks like it might be a zit on Stellar's nose.
  • I can't believe you make me say some of this. I'm a professional, darn it!

610.msg[]

  • It's alveoli, but it reminds you of spaghetti.
  • You gently palpate the abdomen.
  • Hmmm ... tenderness, swelling. Could be the body's natural defenses responding normally to the injection of a large male sanitation engineer.
  • I ... I don't know WHAT that big round thing is. I'm a janitor, dammit, not a doctor!
  • Wow, that's some interesting-looking stuff you've got collected in the engine intake. Looks like a small collection of blood capillaries.
  • Judging by the spongy, sticky surface and the rippled, undulating muscle churning underneath, you deduce that you're standing on a stomach.
  • But you're not 100% certain. It's just a gut feeling.
  • You're treading on the fundus, a broad expanse of tissue covering the outside of the stomach.
  • For some reason, doing so gives you the feeling of being a one-man army.
  • After all, an army DOES travel on its stomach.
  • Quit boinking the fuel tank light.
  • The light's friendly green glow tells you that all is right with Fuel Tank 1.
  • "If it ain't broke, don't screw with it," a wise old game designer was once quoted as saying.
  • For a moment, you're stymied by the thought, "What's the proper name for this flap over the fuel tank?" The thought suddenly evaporates as your mind wanders aimlessly, finally gravitating towards its favorite subject, "self-survival." To your relief, the first fuel hatch is being properly sealed.
  • The nonthreatening and physiologically calmative green glow emanating from the Fuel Tank 2 status light gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. This tank is full and functioning properly.
  • The light's green. No problem there.
  • Despite the way you used the Braille system of intravenous shuttlecraft navigation, the second fuel tank is properly sealed.
  • The reassuring green indicates, "Yes! I am ready to rock and roll!"
  • Red light. Hmmmm, this is not good. Apparently some or all of the intermix element in Fuel Tank 3 was disgorged during your heinous veinous joyride.
  • (That's not all that was disgorged, but we'll skip the details.)
  • Good boy! Now leave the pretty shuttle tanks alone. They're all happy now.
  • The third fuel tank is as closed as it can get, considering the damage you've done to it.
  • Doi!!!
  • She's filled up with what passes for silver in these here parts, and she's sealed up and ready to go.
  • Thanks to your sophisticated futuristic garbage picking, this tank is full and sealed.
  • She's all topped off.
  • You suppress the urge to check the oil, wash the windshield, empty the ashtrays and shake out the mats.
  • Uh-oh. This tank's cover must've come open during Mr. Wilco's Wild Ride.
  • The stomach curves away too sharply for you to reach over and touch Stellar's diaphragm, but you can be reasonably certain it's damp, slick, fleshy and gelatinous.
  • Yummy!
  • You didn't quite make it all the way to the stomach, having ripped a brand-new shortcut through the greater mesenteric artery just off the aorta. Now you're parked on top of the stomach, and around you looms the heavily-veined diaphragmatic musculature of the abdomen.
  • Holy moley! That was a mouthful!
  • Actually, I do have a vague recollection of some junk they made us study in school. Something having to do with the body. Anatomology or something like that. I think it was required.
  • Heh. Now that I think of it, It was pretty funny. (SLIGHT PAUSE) At least I think it was. I remember how the class laughed and laughed. (LONG PAUSE) Anyway, where was I?
  • Funny. I still remember that the teacher made me feel real special about being in that class. He said something like, "What an interesting challenge you are. How am I going to fit one liter of knowledge into a half-liter head?"
  • We hope you're taking notes, because there's going to be a short quiz at the end of the game.
  • You're treading on the fundus, a broad expanse of tissue covering the outside of the stomach.
  • (LOUDLY, BUT HALF TO HIMSELF) OK, I've changed my mind about doing this.
  • Is it too late? Can I still back out gracefully?
  • But as soon as the words spring, gazelle-like, from your lips, you regret them. You're here to do a job. You're here to save Corpsman Stellar Santiago from a fate worse than death. (As if having you inside her wouldn't already be considered such a thing.)
  • That's right! I'm Roger Wilco, dammit! Man of action! Savior of the galaxy! A man trapped in the body of a woman!
  • Wait, that didn't come out right.
  • The walls of the broken blood vessel feel like the heavy-gauge rubber of a coolant hose.
  • In fact, the body resembles a car in many respects. It needs fuel to run and converts that fuel into energy. Our digestive system is like a fuel tank and our nostrils act like a catalytic converter!
  • Oh, that looks real nice.
  • (JUST OPEN THE DOOR AND GO IN)
  • That little thing? That's the stolen, miniaturized door to your stolen, miniaturized shuttle.
  • Good eyesight! Now we'll have to do one of those puzzles where you have to find a one-pixel coin or something.
  • But hey, who'd design a mean, unfair puzzle like THAT?
  • This heat tile looks loose.
  • (SOUND EFFECT AS NOTED IN COMMENT BELOW)
  • Whoops, I have to stop doing that.
  • Your stolen, miniaturized shuttle has become mired on the fundus of the stomach like a beached whale.
  • Although the concept of rubbing silver particles all over the shuttle is interesting, perhaps putting it in the fuel tank behind the blinking red light would be more effective.
  • You recognize that festering, infected crevice! As if Stellar didn't already have enough to worry about, she's got an ulcer! And it's not JUST an ulcer, it's puckered. It's a peptic ulcer!

620.msg[]

  • That's not really recommended. You're outfitted for the vacuum of outer space, not the inner acids of Stellar Santiago.
  • As do most computer game characters who find themselves in sequels of sequels, you stop the action to reflect on your past exploits. You realize you've spent a lot of time looking at the contents of your OWN stomach, but this is the first time you've gotten such a good look at a pool of someone ELSE'S potential discharge.
  • The pools are deceptively still and shallow. They look harmless, but they're seething with pepsin and hydrochloric acid ... a chemical brew of protein-dissolving, bacteria-destroying glop strong enough to dissolve almost anything, especially organic life forms like yourself.
  • (SHOW ANIMATION OF THE ACID POOL RISING JUST SHORT OF THE NANITES THEN RECEDING.) Interesting. The acid rises, but just not quite high enough to submerse those nanites.
  • Cool! The acid rose to dissolve that twinkoid, and took out the nanites at the same time! They're down the digestive tract, partially or wholly dissolved by now.
  • I've got to admit, it's interesting the way you manage to accomplish some things.
  • I mean, I thought this gig was up sequels ago.
  • Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence.
  • No, really, I thought you'd bite the big one games ago. Even cost me a few buckazoids down at the Game Narrator's Guild.
  • OKAY! I heard you!
  • You know, there are other narrators who wouldn't mind hooking up with this series.
  • Touchy, huh? Anyway, I've got a contract. If I were you I'd get back to playing Joe Space Hero so both our checks will cash.
  • Nice shot!
  • The uppermost portion of the stomach gathers together here in a purplish, puckered, flesh-draped sphincter-like drainage outlet.
  • That reminds me. I hafta get one of those inflatable doughnut things if I'm going to keep driving this shuttle. My 'rhoids are flaring up again.
  • Once the gastric juices partially digest the stomach's contents into a semifluid mass called "chyme" (PRONOUNCED "KIME" TO RHYME WITH "SLIME"), the clumps of slurry trickle into this drainage hole. It leads to the duodenum (PRONOUNCED "DEW-ODD-ANUM"), the beginning of the small intestine. The duodenum also happens to be one darn fine organ.
  • Now, let's see. Although we could let you do a macho Tarzan swing, fall down and make a complete fool of yourself, we would advise you to go back down and climb up the old way.
  • Good lord! It's an esophagus, just like the one I saw dangling from somebody's head in MORE DULL KOMBAT II! Except that one was just in a video game, and this one is REAL!
  • (TAKES IT)
  • A feather? When ... rather, if, you get the chance, you'll have to quiz Stellar about her dietary habits.
  • You acquire a candy. (CAN TAKE ALL OF THEM ONE AT A TIME. SEE ART)
  • I already have one.
  • Dang, these look tasty. Boy, that microprozac she inhaled slowed her systems down to a crawl. These things haven't been touched by stomach acid yet.
  • Go on over there and check 'em out if you want.
  • A cluster of stomach acid-shy nanites is lurking near the entrance to the duodenum.
  • They know all the cool places to hang out.
  • An interesting idea. What are you up to, Roger?
  • It's one of those tiny timed-release pills.
  • There's just this one thing. Those little robots are the nanites sent down to aid in taking over Stellar's body. They look like guard nanites.
  • But then, for all you know they could be ballerina nanites.
  • (TAKES IT)
  • How odd. A bent staple. And thus far it has resisted being dissolved by the stomach's acids, probably because of its location and Stellar's apparent lack of oral nourishment during her captivity.
  • The acid probably hasn't risen high enough since this item found its way in here. What in the hell was she doing eating a staple, anyway? Maybe it was some fad diet thing in the "Galactic Enquirer."
  • You give it a tug but it resists, so you resort to actually putting some real effort into it and voila! It is now yours. Enjoy.
  • Hmmm. Loosely woven into the stomach lining is a piece of celery string. That stuff could be used to make steel-belted radial tires stronger. Rumor has it that it was the original inspiration for dental floss. I think I saw that on one of those James Burke shows.
  • This gaping wound is the result of gastric juices eating away at the lining of the stomach, which can happen as a result of excess stomach acid, reduced formation of the mucus which typically lines the stomach's inner wall, or other irritants.
  • But this ulcer is special. Most ulcers aren't big enough to allow janitors to crawl through.
  • You'll have to remember to tell her about it -- if you're real lucky and actually survive.
  • The inside of Stellar's tummy is slippery, mostly because of the mucus secreted by the stomach lining, and there are a few pock marks here and there, but when push comes to shove, this is the most beautiful stomach you've ever been in.

640.msg[]

  • Stellar is being kept alive by machine now, but she's going to need everything she has -- as intact as possible -- should your mission prove successful.
  • I know I'm not holding MY breath.
  • Those appear to be the aorta and the vena cava. Who knew this was going to be so much fun?
  • At least, I think that's what they are. I've never been much of an artery man, myself.
  • You may think that's a very funny thing to do, but remember that you have to save Stellar's life. You aren't here to play touch-and-giggle with her innards.
  • That's the epiglottis. It's sort of a traffic manager for the [[lungs] and stomach.
  • This is no time for chamber music. We have adventuring to do.
  • I don't know why, but the larynx has always given me the creeps!
  • There's something stuck in between two of the chords.
  • This is another one of those cutaway views. There's nothing you can do to that from in here.
  • Check out the lungs on this girl. You don't get an opportunity like this everyday.
  • You now own one of those tiny timed-release pills.
  • It's one of those tiny timed-release pills. As I recall, these are designed to not melt down and release their medicines until they've gotten to an area past the stomach.
  • What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen an esophagus before?
  • This is the lower part of the esophagus. Just below this is the stomach.
  • This is the upper part of the esophagus. The larynx branches off from here, winding its way down to the bronchi and the lungs. Looking above, you see some sort of medical equipment blocking the way to the mouth. Looks like that's not an option for an escape route.
  • These are the trachea and bronchi. That's where the lungs hook in.
  • Good idea. Unfortunately, that doesn't work. You don't have the weight to unwedge that chunk of empty calories.
  • A large hunk of twinkoid cakefood product is hanging just below her epiglottis. It appears to have gotten jammed on the way to her stomach for digestion.
  • Doesn't this woman chew?

650.msg[]

  • Oh, yeah, let's git us a feel o' that. All kinds of interesting foods and body squeezings have made their way through this narrow opening. Who wouldn't want to touch it?
  • That's the pyloris. That muscle has the final say over who makes it out of the stomach and into the duodenum.
  • Yeah, good idea. You don't have quite enough slime, mucus, phlegm, and bile on you already.
  • This is the upper area of the duodenum. Matter preprocessed from the stomach enters here through the pyloris above. It has a lovely bile-colored decor, and for a very good reason: this is the area in which raw processed ingestibles are mixed with a variety of secretions for further breakdown.
  • There's nothing to touch there from this area.
  • On the other side of that opening is Stellar's stomach.
  • That's just some of the interesting flora of the digestive system.

660.msg[]

  • This looks like the center section of the duodenum. It has that same lovely bile-green brilliance.
  • Although tempted to pluck it like a harp string, you wisely decide for Stellar's sake to not mess with anything you don't have to (or want to, for that matter).
  • Ah, the mucosa are so lovely this time of year.
  • Wow, this is a tight fit. I think things are supposed to go out, not in.
  • Ah, the old Ampulla of Vater surrounded by the sphincter of Oddi. Didn't you always wonder what it looked like? The bile slick seems to be a little fresher there.

666.msg[]

  • Restore
  • Try Again
  • Couldn't you just die ... horribly?
  • Wow, he really creased your can! Pretty impressive -- (PAUSE) maybe not from your point of view, of course.
  • I'm not going to say he told you so, but he did.
  • Smooth move, ex-lax. Guess this cyberspace thing can be pretty painful -- and I'm not just talking about the rates.
  • Well, it could've been worse. He did come from the groin region, after all! Ouch!
  • And you thought the fumes from lactose intolerance were bad!
  • Roger, Roger, Roger. What're we gonna do with you?
  • So that's how you're gonna play it, huh?
  • Perhaps you would have preferred to learn what the word "churlish" meant in a more conventional manner?
  • Being a good samaritan is one thing, but you should've been just a little skeptical about that move.
  • EVA suits weren't designed just as a fashion statement, Roger.
  • I'm sure you must've known better than to do that. We'd like to think you did that just to see how cool it looked.
  • So close and yet so far away. How embarrassing to get wasted by the Laurel and Hardy of nanites.
  • Pretty embarrassing getting wasted by an old lady, tentacles or not! You'd better hope no one saw that.
  • My goodness, those little guys are efficient! However, based on how they left your boots behind, you might consider some Odor Eaters.
  • That's pretty far to go just to do your Wizard of Oz impression. Makes you feel tingly all over, doesn't it?
  • I'll bet Magnum kicks some serious butt playing marbles!
  • Cool, a chance to check out your own digestive tract!
  • Toss in some Entrail Helper and I think we've got a nice potential feast here.
  • You've got to respect this guy. At least when he kills, he uses all the parts. Unfortunately, they're ... Oh well, that's life, er, I mean, that's death.
  • Don't you just hate it when that happens?
  • Since you've entered the tapeworm not partially digested, you'll probably give him heartburn. I hope you're proud of yourself.
  • You pick strange methods of getting a charge out of life.
  • Oh great! Like that's going to help Stellar. You're so selfish!
  • And you were so close, too.
  • Dead Again, eh?
  • Common sense? What's that?

670.msg[]

  • This is the place where the duodenum meets the small intestine. The mixture of food, acids, bile, and enzymes move on from here and pass over the villi, where nutrients are absorbed into the bloodstream.
  • It's a fascinating place, wouldn't you say?
  • This is the very bottom of our old friend, the duodenum. You can see the beginning of the jejunum. The villi start here. They increase the surface area of the small intestine a great deal, giving more area to absorb nutrients.
  • All in all, it just looks like a french tickler turned inside-out to me.
  • A what?
  • Never mind. It's not important.
  • Please remember to keep your arms and legs on the worm at all times.
  • That has no effect. At least it appears that way.
  • Well, now that DID have an effect. Not probably what you had hoped for, however.
  • It's a tapeworm. He seems to be lazily grazing in the valley of the villi.
  • Great scott!!! That certainly is one buff parasite.
  • I think I'm gonna spew. But who'll notice? Man, that thing's ugly.
  • The tapeworm is a little wired, thanks to you. He looks like he has plenty of energy.
  • Hmmm. Impressive. The tapeworm suddenly becomes much more animated!

680.msg[]

  • You can't pass through with the alveoli in the way.
  • (TO HIMSELF) Yeow. This is way too snug. This blockage needs to be cleared. Stellar's going to have to change her diet.
  • That is, if she can face life after having you inside her.
  • Don't take it back out. It's all fine where it is.
  • The alveoli are well placed in the blockage.
  • As logical as that seems, it isn't the answer to any of your questions.
  • This is the main pancreatic duct. It appears that there's some blockage toward the tail of the pancreas. It definitely gets a bit snug. Seems to be a build-up of cholesterol arterial plaque.

690.msg[]

  • No. You should have thought about washing your hands a long time ago.
  • You've got plenty of that stuff, or did you want to take some home to Mom?
  • You maneuver your helmet beneath the drip and manage to snag a nice little dollop of the stuff.
  • Drops of pancreatic enzymes drip from the overhanging cell units.
  • Naw, you really, really don't want to suck on those!
  • Your hands won't hold much of that.
  • A nice pool of pancreatic secretions made up of insulin and glucagon fill the bottom of the islands of Langerhans.
  • Apparently, they play an important part in introducing hormones to the blood system as well as adding an enzyme which, when joined with the bile secretion from the gall bladder, form some kind of spew that breaks down stuff the stomach acids don't -- fats and that kind of thing.
  • Not only that, but some cells release insulin and others release glucagon to counter the insulin. It even offers up a bicarbonate to counteract the stomach's acid. All in all, it's a pretty strange and busy organ.
  • It just looks like a uvula warehouse to me.
  • Despite the overwhelming urge to play Rocky with these cute little dangly things, you are wise enough to realize that you must inflict as little damage as possible to Stellar's interior.
  • Your helmet wouldn't fit on the islet.
  • These little islets drip a pancreatic enzyme. This is later mixed with some stuff from the gallbladder to make that wonderful green bile antifreeze-looking stuff that humanoid hurlers the universe over have come to know and hate.

700.msg[]

  • You can't actually do that. This is a cutaway view.
  • No tour of the duodenum would be complete without this unique outside view.
  • Check out the cool membrane.
  • Please keep your arms and legs inside the duct at all times. Thank you.
  • That's the top part of the head of Stellar's pancreas. An odd feeling passes through you just being amongst Stellar's organs.
  • That sounds like a good idea but it won't help here.
  • Welcome to the heart of the bile belt. This is indeed spew central. At this location, secretions from the liver, gall bladder and pancreas merge to form a duodenal delight guaranteed to break down almost anything the stomach doesn't. The common bile duct runs up from here.
  • This is the cystic duct. You are quite near where the gall bladder becomes part of the bile parade.
  • You don't need any more stones -- at least not that kind!
  • Nice gallstone collection.
  • That wouldn't be wise. Those suckers could fall and smash you flat.
  • A large gallstone hangs above the entrance to the gall bladder.
  • You can't change its location, alter its position or affect its current velocity.
  • Not only that, it won't budge.
  • The gallstone is wedged in the bile duct, and that's just a fine place for it.

720.msg[]

  • You already have plenty of that -- or did you want to take some back to Mom?
  • There's just no telling what interesting nuggets are going to roll from that orb comfortably containing your version of a brain. All of a sudden you're Mr. Anatomy. Go figure. Well, good luck. Unfortunately, we're stuck with you to get us out of this.
  • I'm feeling a bit queasy. Is that my life I see flashing before my eyes?
  • Drips of bile collect in the gall bladder.
  • If you're feeling froggy, swim on over there.
  • Actually, that's a bad idea. You ARE in Stellar's body and should leave as much untouched and unbruised as possible. She's got enough working against her presently.
  • Naw, that's not a good idea.
  • If I'm not mistaken -- and I seldom am -- that's the mucosa, or inner lining of the gall bladder. It helps make the bile even more vile by absorbing spare water content.
  • You chuck one of the taped capillaries over the muscular ledge. It drops into the pool.
  • You have no need to touch the bile.
  • Wow, check out all that bile. Looks like her liver's been doing just fine. That's a pool of bile any liver would be proud of. You sure can't speak highly of its aroma.
  • You give the pump a stroke or two, and in the process gather a nice helmet-load of bile. I guess congratulations are in order.
  • Now, if you just had something to collect the bile in, you'd be all set.
  • It's the same pump you've been carrying around. Now it just happens to be attached to a bunch of duct-taped segments of capillaries.
  • Here before you in all its magnificence is the gall bladder. Wasn't this worth the trip?

730.msg[]

  • Here's a tip: don't mess with your colon. You'll be glad you didn't.
  • That's the beginning of the large intestine, or the colon as some call it. I believe this would be the cecum.
  • Egads, Man, just how low have we sunk?
  • All the way to the junction of the large and small intestines, that's how low. This also happens to be the home of the appendix.
  • That's the bottom portion of the small intestine, or ileum.
  • So you like the worm, huh?
  • You like to ride the worm, huh?
  • I let you ride the worm.
  • That's your vermiform friend who, with a little help from organic and pharmaceutical resources, was kind enough to give you that ride along the approximately six and a half meters or so of small intestine that lies between here and the duodenum.
  • It's not very conversant. Few cestodes are. This one's a dwarf.
  • Hopefully, life's path will not lead you to meet any other kind.

735.msg[]

  • You can't budge it.
  • Talk about hard currency. The buckazoid has proven itself once again. This is even one of the old style ones. Might be worth some money. Too bad you can't carry it.
  • You carefully -- VERY carefully -- stow the paper clip in your pocket.
  • It's a relatively unscathed paper clip.
  • Here's a tip: don't mess with your colon. You'll be glad you didn't.
  • The lower part of the colon, called the cecum, goes on from here. It joins up with the rest of that final piece during the digestive process.
  • No, I think I've already done things above and beyond the call of duty. Hey, a guy has to draw the line somewhere, and gosh darn it, this guy's drawing the line right at the ... right at, er ... at, at the colon.
  • You've never even met her mother.
  • Yeah.
  • You pull away a cracked piece of the filling.
  • You've got as much of that as you can carry.
  • It looks like an old silver amalgam filling. Must have been bouncing around here for years.
  • You snap off a shard of fingernail and gingerly introduce it into your pocket.
  • It's a fingernail, complete with paint. These have a knack for making it down here.
  • Suddenly you wonder when Stellar grew such long nails. Perhaps you haven't been thinking of Stellar as a woman as much as a crewmate. You feel an interesting longing.
  • One look at your surroundings kills that feeling fast. But maybe after this is all over ...
  • This is the appendix. It's a strange piece of the humanoid anatomy considered by some medical types to be fairly useless.
  • It may not be useful, but it does seem to collect some strange stuff.
  • How does she get this stuff into her digestive system? That's a screw Stellar probably doesn't remember.
  • No sense in it. You couldn't feel its magnificent texture through the gloves. Smelling it should be more than adequate for a sensory experience.
  • This seems to be a sludge of rather heavy and not-so-digestible items.
  • Sludge. Reminds you of your old nemesis. Well, you finished him off, but he still causes you to change your clothing more than the average person.

740.msg[]

  • Ooooooff!
  • It's pretty tough; it manages to resist your manly efforts.
  • This is the meninges. It's a three-layer cover for the brain. Check out the cool blood vessels.
  • You slice away with the nail and, amazingly enough, manage to cut a slice in the barrier!
  • Tattered remnants of your incursion into the brain mark the spot you entered through.
  • Come on. By now you should know to take it easy on the merchandise.
  • It's the old grey matter itself: our friend, the brain. (At least some of us are familiar with it. I don't remember seeing you at the meetings.)
  • For some reason, you're drawing a complete blank on information regarding the brain.
  • Don't be lame. I know it doesn't come naturally, but give it a go anyway.
  • There's a post with some buttons on it.
  • It's an elevator built by the nanites to help gain access to the interior of the brain. Yuck!
  • You attempt to shinny on down through the hole.
  • Geez, this feels weird. It's one time I'm absolutely certain I know I'm on Stellar's mind.
  • It's big enough. You don't want to cut more than you need to.
  • Nice mood lighting!
  • Yikes, how am I supposed to jump across this one?
  • Man, that was close!
  • A mine shaft has been built by the nanites for access to the inner sanctuary of Stellar's brain.
  • That was quite effective! That was very impressive, Roger. I'll bet that's not something you hear every decade.
  • Why, it appears they're going to rumble. Very clever of you.
  • Walk on up there if you want to touch them.
  • You chuck a gallstone at one of the robots -- causing it to think the other one did it.
  • You chuck another gallstone -- this time at the other robot who also thinks the other one did it.
  • I don't think I can hit them from here.
  • Those nanites are still there, and they look real pissy.
  • Nanites are there and they look real pissy.
  • The self-deactivated nanites now pose no threat.
  • Holy Captain's Log, Batman! There are a few more of those nanites here. How am I gonna handle this one?
  • Ah, you've made it to the meninges! It's a tough three-part covering of the brain inside the skull. It's built like a tire in three layers -- one of which is tough like a steel-belted radial.
  • It's right where you left it.

750.msg[]

  • I'd better never, ever touch that while I'm in here.
  • This button takes you down.
  • This button stops.
  • This button takes you up.
  • Oh, this is her "choice of men" center. It looks a little odd.
  • This is the elevator control panel.
  • Interesting. The sign says this is Stellar's cough control center.
  • No,I'd better not mess with that. I've got to go easy on Stellar if I expect her to be able to survive.
  • So this is the motor control center.
  • No, I'd better not. It would get too violent in here.
  • This sign says this is her "pleasure" center. Hmmmm.
  • It's a recently constructed shaft between the hemispheres of Stellar's brain!

760.msg[]

  • It's no use. None of these actions is going to aid in moving this huge pile of brains and debris.
  • That's the elevator you rode down from the surface of her brain.
  • It's too small for you to even fit your head in. (Bet you've never heard that before.)
  • It won't help for you to start chucking your possessions into the opening.
  • A small opening between the brain wall and the debris pile allows a small amount of light to escape.
  • Your effort to move it is futile. This would be a challenge for you even if you were full-sized.
  • That's not necessary anymore. There's nothing in the pile which would be of value to you.
  • That's not helpful in moving the pile.
  • A huge pile of debris is standing in front of what appears to be some sort of passage. Light pours through the opening.
  • The pile has shifted away from the opening.
  • This is strange-looking. Used pieces of nanite hardware as well as some stuff that looks vaguely like mining equipment litter the area.
  • Used hardware still litters the area -- but it appears that the large pile of debris has shifted away from the opening you could barely see through before.

770.msg[]

  • Wow! Talk about brain dead. That thing was most gruesome!
  • Fish! That's brain food!
  • (MOANING IN AGONY AS SHE DIES) Ahhhhhhhh!
  • All right! She actually chowed down on that rancid fish!
  • Well, that ought to give her some gastric distress.
  • I thought I'd never get rid of that fish.
  • Ahhhh! (SOUND OF BEING SQUEEZED TIGHTLY BY A TENTACLE)
  • Hey, watch those tentacles, Lady! And I thought that being partially embedded in the street on Polysorbate was a strange feeling.
  • Oooofff!! (SOUNDS THAT WOULD BE GENERATED DURING A TUMBLE)
  • Owww!!! Even in this suit, that hurts like a ... (REALIZATION) Geez. What's going on here and what's with that big robot?!
  • Well, well, Mr. Wilco. I must confess to being impressed that you made it this far. You are either a very lucky man or the classic case of how looks can be deceiving.
  • From what I know of your history I can't say that, in this case, looks are necessarily deceiving. On the other hand, I don't think luck accounts for it all either. There's definitely something different about you, Mr. Wilco. It's a pity though. I'm afraid this is where the odds catch up with you, Roger.
  • I do hope you don't mind me referring to you as Roger. I feel we can both be on a first name basis now since we will soon be sharing such intimate moments -- my rebirth and your death -- not necessarily in that order.
  • I'll attend to you in a moment. I have a few more little details to finish before I transfer my consciousness into this body. Enjoy it, Roger. It'll be among the very last of your memories.
  • Oh, and by the way, escape attempts will prove to be futile. You will be incinerated, if necessary.
  • (TO HIMSELF) Geez, what a bit ...(INTERRUTED BY SHARPEI)
  • I'm sorry, what was that you were saying?!
  • Me? Uh, I was, uh, I was saying, uh, "What a bite." Yeah, I had a little trouble with some parasites a while ago down in the digestive tract. That's all it was.
  • Yeow! Guess she wasn't kidding about escape being a futile thing!
  • Hey! You could hurt me doing that!
  • A conveyer moves freshly dug brain cells to the top of the pile.
  • It's a piece of mining equipment! She's been digging around in the cortex.
  • Hmmmm. That's quite a drill! (Hopefully you're not having any feelings of inadequacy.)
  • Hmmm, I've got this bundle of nerves. I wonder what I can use to make this into something?
  • It looks like a bundle of nerves with electrical current through them.
  • It's a lovely pile of brain matter.
  • The robot's head swivels constantly to keep an electronic eye on you.
  • It's the robot Sharpei is using -- just as Dr. Beleauxs told you about!
  • Wow! That was actually a great idea! Go figure.
  • Yeah, I kicked her butt. Just look at me. MacGyver wishes he could be me.
  • (GETTING COCKY) It was bound to happen. The never-ending battle between good and evil was once again waged. And once again good has emerged victorious.
  • Yes, and with me on its side, how could it lose?
  • Yes, once again I have struck a blow for good over evil. It was ineviii ... (SHARPEI LIFTS HIM WITH A TENTACLE)
  • Ahhh! What? But I thought I took care of you!
  • Well, it appears you thought wrong, now doesn't it, Roger?
  • (SHE SNAGS ROGER WITH HER TENTACLES) Oooooff!!!
  • Welcome to the cerebral cortex. It looks like someone's been mining brain matter.
  • My, she has a different look now. I don't know which I like better!
  • Wilco! I haven't survived this long without taking precautions. The robot was just hardware. My mind still exists.
  • Oh, real wonderful.
  • It looks like that shovel's been busy.
  • The sight of the claws mounted on the turret make you wish you were wearing a Depends undergarment.

800.msg[]

  • The access panels are all tightly sealed to keep people who don't know what they're doing away from the controls.
  • Yes, people like you!
  • These panels resist every attempt to get them to open.
  • Even with the pliers, you can't seem to disengage the access panel. Nice try, though!
  • Access panel, I command you to open!
  • Not surprisingly, the access panel doesn't open. But it does appear to glance your way, give you a "Who made you the boss?" look, then shrug and glance away with a superior attitude.
  • Or was that all in your mind?
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's Quantum Inhibitor Conduit.
  • This access panel contains the Food Replicator's ...
  • ... um, the thing that keeps the ... uh ...
  • Well, it's got this lever with this other thing connected to it ...
  • Anyway, it keeps the Replicator from getting the ... um ...
  • Never mind.
  • It's a backspace key, so that you can change your mind before you enter a number into the Replicator.
  • It's also the key you use most frequently.
  • The keys are made for touching, not talking.
  • It sure doesn't feel punctured!
  • The plastosaran keyboard overlay is punctureproof and liquidproof.
  • Attempting to carry on a conversation with the plastosaran overlay is a sign of your continuing slide into serious mental illness.
  • You place a finger in the hole and wiggle it about. Nice shot, only you were aiming for the keypad.
  • It doesn't seem to fit in the phaser hole.
  • Ah, yes, you remember this hole. You got ticked off because "the Sirian Goat Cheese on the Grilled Orat Salad tasted fakey" so you shot the Replicator with a phaser welder.
  • (That was back in your salad days.)
  • That little prong might fit in the hole, but it might fall into the wormhole, land in the Restaurant Universe, and ruin any chance you might've had to fix that ClapMaster™!
  • There's nobody in there to talk to.
  • It's a button with a number on it.
  • Button, button, who's got the button?
  • I crack me up.
  • Mmm, a jiggling, fragrant, lumpy mass of Bjorn Chow!
  • There's nothing else like it in the universe (thank goodness!).
  • Are you trying to talk to that mess?
  • It's a button.
  • You feel a sharp crunch under your fingertip.
  • What are you trying to do? Fingerpaint??
  • Oh, no! This game has BUGS in it!
  • It's a good thing this replicator doesn't work, 'cause you've just lost your appetite.
  • The roach doesn't need a clip.
  • Hey! Get the heck outta my kitchen, you cockaroach!
  • This is the Enter button, also known as the Return key. It is the button you press to indicate that you have concluded the process of entering alphanumeric information into the display from the console.
  • There, did we clear that up?
  • The pipe feels tepid and seems to vibrate just slightly. Whether that's from an influx of fresh Soylent or just the natural vibration of the ship, you're uncertain.
  • This is the Soylent Intake Shaft. It delivers freshly retreated Soylent to the replicator for those few foods which are actually manufactured from Soylent.
  • Hey! Anyone up there in the kitchen? Can you hear me?
  • That was fun.
  • You stick a finger into the vent and feel a cool, gentle draft.
  • Not unlike the one that seems to drift from your ears.
  • These vents prevent the odors of the food from spreading throughout the ship.
  • Which is a good thing, as you know if you've ever smelled Poached Seaslug in Orat Coulis.
  • Hello? Anyone in there?
  • Apparently not.
  • Ouch!
  • That was a bright idea.
  • The light releases photons that travel through the air, bounce off the surface of an object, shoot through the lenses of your eyes, and focus on your retinas to form an image. The brain interprets this image and attempts to form it into a cohesive pattern, which it then attempts to recognize through a complex memory matching process.
  • Some objects absorb certain light frequencies and reflect others. When a particular frequency is reflected from the surface of an object, we see that object as having a property which we call "color."
  • This explanation is referred to as "overkill."
  • Even you are not lamebrained enough to talk to a light.
  • Or so we thought, until now.
  • Don't try to get anything out of this machine. You'll only succeed in getting your fingers stuck to the replicator ... again!
  • Your food replicator is a nightmare of pooled sticky stuff, dried-on gunk, dents, dings, and roach droppings. In fact, the computer's self-survival circuitry cut in days ago and turned off service to your room.
  • Work, darn you! Replicate me something!
  • This button has a period on it.
  • Hmmm...something tells me you're thinking of the demo.
  • Demo?
  • Yeah, you remember. The demo that had more version numbers than the game.
  • Uhhh ... yeah. THAT demo.
  • You want this stuff? Maybe we should relegate the Roger Wilco character to demo-only status for the next game. You did have a brother, didn't you? Perhaps his IQ broke double digits.
  • I don't think I actually want that stuff.
  • Never mind.
  • Didn't your mother ever tell you to finish what you've got on your plate before taking more?
  • This is a "Mr. Soylent" Food Replicator. Most foods actually aren't replicated, they're sent through miniature wormholes from the Restaurant Universe, a parallel reality where everyone owns a restaurant.
  • But some foods aren't worth sending out for, so they're replicated from soylent -- a mixture of soybeans, lentils, flavorings, emulsifiers, binding and surfectant agents, and a secret special ingredient which we won't tell you about lest we shock you senseless with the mind-reeling revelation.
  • Replicate! I command thee!
  • You have no power here.
  • You shouldn't try to open this door by tugging on it. You'll strip the gears, just like you did to the replicator in your quarters.
  • Open up in there!
  • The pipe is slightly chilly.
  • Anyone down there in the Soylent Sludge Reprocessing Tanks? Can you hear me?
  • You leave a greasy smudge on the screen. One of these days you'll have to wash out that little screen cleaner pad you've been using for the past few months.
  • This is the screen used to display the numbers as you enter them.
  • The button has a star on it. It's supposed to be a "last food redial," but it never works correctly.

900.msg[]

  • You can't daisy-chain circuit plates. Nor do you need to.
  • There's already a plate in this socket. Please remove it before attempting to insert a new plate. Thank you SO much.
  • There seems to be something stopping the datacorder from transmitting.
  • It's not transmitting very well from here. Maybe I should try a different place.
  • Didn't that Sally Struthers learn-at-home course teach you not to stack components on top of each other?
  • That plate's chip socket is currently occupado! Please remove the first chip before attempting to insert the new one.
  • The power must be ON before you can reconfigure this unit.
  • You have successfully reconfigured the Datacorder™ for standard use.
  • The |c84|RECONFIGURE|c82| button will reset the internal chips, plates and IRKs to standard Datacorder™ setup. Use this button if you have rearranged the components and wish to restore them to their original positions.
  • This circuit board is not user-serviceable. You don't want to void the warranty, do you?
  • It's a circuit board. And a darn good one.
  • If you want to open it, you'll have to find the button.
  • This is the faceplate of the Datacorder™. During normal operation, the faceplate is closed. It should only be opened to repair, replace or reconfigure the internal components.
  • This is the Dentium chip.
  • This is the Dimtel chip.
  • Ahem. This button doesn't do squat unless the power is on.
  • This button scrolls the information on the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen in a downward fashion.
  • Does that look like a Divalium crystal chip to you? I don't think so.
  • You poke around looking for a spare crystal chip, but no dice.
  • (Interestingly, you find dice, but no crystal!)
  • This is the Fermentium chip.
  • You carefully lift the Divalium chip out of the stasis circuit board. Hope you know what you're doing, Bucko! The Datacorder™ won't work without it!
  • This is the Datacorder™ power source: a tiny chip of Divalium crystal (the Offical Power Source of StarCon)!
  • Your skin is soft and supple.
  • NOT! Actually, it's sweaty and rubbery.
  • You notice your firm, muscular fingers ... the graceful bone structure ... the elegant blood blister under your thumb. These are a MAN's hands! Grrrrr!
  • They don't do anything when you touch 'em. They just light up.
  • This is the Datacorder's™ proximity display. If one light is on, the selected chemical compound (shown on the LCD screen) is present, but at an extremely low trace level. If two lights are on, the compound is within 100 meters. If all three lights are on and flashing, the compound is within 10 meters.
  • If no lights are on, either the Datacorder™ is not turned on, or there is no detectable trace of the compound.
  • You missed! Hah!
  • There you go again, staring off into space.
  • Don't open the Datacorder™ when it's switched on. Doing so could damage some of the delicate internal components.
  • Such as your central nervous system.
  • Put all the plates back before you close the faceplate.
  • Put all the chips back before closing the faceplate. Thank you.
  • This button opens and closes the datacorder's faceplate.
  • You should close the faceplate before turning the power on.
  • Sorry, Bucko, the Datacorder™ won't work now that you've removed the power source. You'll have to put the Divalium crystal chip back.
  • This button turns the Datacorder™ on and off.
  • This is the Repentium Chip.
  • It has no effect here.
  • It's your modified datacorder.
  • This is your highly sensitive Datacorder™. Its primary use is to scan for and indicate proximity to any chemical compound.
  • It has other possible uses as well, but that requires significant tinkering with the internal components.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "A". The interchangeable plates fit neatly into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "B". The interchangeable plates fit precisely into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "C". The interchangeable plates fit snugly into these sockets.
  • You clumsily try to wedge it into the empty socket, nearly breaking it. Smooth move.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "D". The interchangeable plates fit securely into these sockets.
  • This socket is Sensor Array "E". The interchangeable plates fit with utter sureness into these sockets.
  • This is the Spentium chip.
  • Captain! There be switches here!
  • These are IRK switches. Only one switch for each Sensor Array may be on at any time, and only one IRK switch of each number (1,3,5,7, and 9) may be on at any time.
  • This button scrolls the information on the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen in an upwardly-appearing fashion.
  • You try to mush the liquid crystals around a bit with your finger, shortening the lifespan of the unit. Nice going, Guy.
  • This is the Datacorder's™ LCD viewscreen. When powered up, the chemical compound being scanned for appears on this screen. When reconfigured for other modes, the name of the mode appears on this screen.
  • See how easy? And it really, really works!

950.msg[]

  • Did you hear about the artist who killed himself? He couldn't draw his own breath.
  • buh bye 1
  • farewell
  • bye 3
  • credits
  • credits
  • As Roger and Stellar warp off into the nebulaset, many questions remain. Will Roger and Stellar become an item? How will Beatrice Wankmeister react when she hears about this new friend in Roger's life?
  • Will Roger's voice be a few octaves higher as a result? Would they dare to make another one of these things? Only time -- and money -- will tell.
  • Thank you for playing Space Quest 6. This is Gary Owens signing off.
  • Boy, Stellar, with all that's happened recently, I never would have imagined that we'd be standing here together.
  • It is a miracle, Roger. I was afraid that by the time you got my message it would be too late. I was certain I was doomed, but you didn't let me down.
  • What you did was incredibly brave, Roger, not to mention intensely risky. It took Dr. Beleauxs a lot of work to clean up after you and Sharpei.
  • I must say, Roger, there's not a man in the universe who knows me inside the way you do.
  • It was a strange feeling, but I went in there all business. There wasn't a moment I wasn't thinking of your welfare.
  • Oh, give me a break. Let me put my boots on. It's getting deep in here.
  • Cheese it, Pal, or I'll rip out your larynx and you won't be able to get a job doing bad voice-over work for Chinese action pictures!
  • What did you say, Roger?
  • Oh, uh, I was just mumbling to myself. You know, Stellar, there was one thing I noticed while inside you that I thought I might share.
  • And what's that, Roger?
  • You eat like a goat! You really have to change your eating habits, Stellar. I saw some things in your digestive tract that I wouldn't wish on Sludge Vohaul. You really have to clean up your consumption act.
  • Yes, I know, I know. Dr. Beleauxs said he was able to fix most everything done to me during Sharpei's invasion, as well as patching an ulcer that was playing havoc with my stomach. He told me the same things.
  • You might also try chewing. You had a hunk of a twinkoid wedged in your throat that would have gagged Linda Lovelace.
  • Okay, Roger, okay! I got the message. Let's change the subject, shall we? Ask me where I'm stationed next.
  • Why don't you just tell me.
  • Boy, some fun you are.
  • Sorry, I guess I'm a little grumpy. I had a real day. I had to clean the Captain's Log entry container. Then, somebody got a nice buzz in 8-Rear and decided to take a wormhole ride in the HoloSuite.
  • They hit a few wrong buttons and the next thing I know I'm cleaning Vergon Nebulasets and hors d'oeuvres off every wall and ceiling. Apparently, they truly did make the room spin. Boy, they spackled everything! Had to use a putty knife to chip loose some of the chunks of ... (INTERRUPTED BY STELLAR)
  • Uh, Roger? I'm sorry you had a rough day, but can we please change the subject?
  • Oh, sorry.
  • Anyway, I think you're going to like your next assignment.
  • Really? What is it? Where is it?
  • Sorry. You're just going to have to wait to find out.
  • My next assignment? What, more janitoring? What is it? How do you know?
  • I've been up to my lips in urinal pucks lately. I hope it's something different.

64990.msg[]

  • Cancel
  • Change Directory
  • Delete
  • \1e
  • No
  • Cancel
  • OK
  • Replace
  • Restore
  • Save
  • \1d
  • Yes
  • Are you sure you want to

delete this saved game?

  • Restore a Game
  • Save a Game
  • %s

is not a valid directory.

  • This directory/disk can hold no more saved games. You must replace one of your saved games or use Change Directory to save on a different directory/disk.
  • New save-game directory:
  • Replace
  • with:
  • You must type a description for the game.
  • Select the game that you would like to restore.
  • Type the description of this saved game.

64994.msg[]

  • Cancel
  • An error occurred while attempting to read the save game catalog file. The saved games in this directory are no longer usable.
  • Change Directory
  • GAME
  • Insert the %s disk in drive %s.
  • %s

is not a valid directory.

  • Message not found.
  • OK
  • SAVE GAME
  • An error occurred while attempting to save your game. Try saving to another directory or saving over an existing saved game.
  • That game was saved under a different game or interpreter version. It cannot be restored.
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