They sat together upstairs, in one of these ancient looking rooms. Wood, it's called. That hard material which escaped description. Apparently, it is quite flammable, or so he's been told. It's hard to imagine a solid which is supposed to be flammable other than coal.

  The room was quaint, airy, and pleasant. Most pleasant of all was Gary, as it seemed he was basking in their shared drive for success. An old fashioned clock ticked in the background as he spoke.

  “So, did you two have ‘anythin specific in mind or d’yuh just have some preferences or ‘somethin?” Gary asked John, who sat in one of those weird chairs from before.

  The warm light of the room almost made him glow, a far cry from the assault of neon they've grown accustomed to.

  “If there's a way I can help with manning vehicles, that would be perfect. Automobile, Biped, you name it.”

  “Mmmmm, aight, sounds interesting. I’kn refer you to Jimbo, he's the man when it comes to that stuff.” He turns to Amy. “And you, pretty lady?”

  She stands up from her seat and smiles, though is not much taller. “I'd like to help out the staff. I'd like to write or help them write, or even plan stuff.”

  Gary leans back, nodding his head. “Okay, okay. I'll keep that in mind.” He leans forward again, putting his hands on the table.

  “Now you two, I've also had a question nagging away at me. Who was it that made your referral here?”

  The two look at each other, unsure how to answer. “Uhhh…” Says John. “We were told by the guy who sent us not to say. But I'll tell you this— he was an eccentric dude. I think he was a dude?”

  Gary shakes his head, removing his right hand from the table and moving it to his side. “Ahhh. I'm sorry to say ‘bud but that isn't a good ‘enuf answer. Spit it out.”

  John looks to Amy, hoping she comes with a better answer.

  “We— uh. We were sent by a guy who said he didn't like, uh, James Mourner?” She looks to John who nods, so she continues. “He was kinda a pervert and also worked at a bar.”

  Gary sits up and leans forward quite fast. “Hated Mourner? Okay now you really got my back up. Tell me who the ‘fawk sent you two or you're gonna find out what a bullet feels like!”

  He stands up, hand to his right hip.

  Amy makes herself small in fright while John stands up to Gary's height, walking stick in hand, protesting his case.

  “Where the fuck did this come from?! Look, it's one of only two things he told us to do! I’m sorry but I’m not breaking my word.”

  Gary's eyes darted to him, clearly weary and wise.

  “Oh yeah?” He asks softly. “Then what was the second thing he told you two?”

  John swallows a load of saliva. “The other thing he said was to tell anyone who sticks out to us that… ‘The Archliege lives on,’ or something along those lines.”

  “The Archliege…” Gary whispers, his eyes drifting to the floor as his mind goes somewhere else. “Well alright. I believe you two. BUT.”

  He slams his palms on the table and leans most of his body over it to address the two. “Here's ‘anotha word of advice for you two. Never use that name in vain. And never, EVER while devices are listening. You got that?”

  “Uhh, sure?” John says, slowly shuffling to Amy who remains seated. “Who is he?” Amy asks.

  Gary's eyes dart to her at the question. He slowly backs up to a stand. “That's not ‘somethin I can tell ya young lady. Only you can find out what he is.”

  “What is he?” She asks.

  “Yes, what HE is.” Gary emphasizes.

  “Okay, right, so we're done here now, cool?”

  John asks, keen to move on learning vehicles, his hand on her shoulder. Gary puts his finger in the air, beckoning him to sit down.

  “A-a-a, not quite yet, son. I've got one more question. Do either of you have obligations elsewhere?”

  Amy speaks up before John can. “Oh, he has work. I can stay but John has to leave for work.”

  “And for how long?” Gary asks.

  John takes the liberty of answering the question for himself.

  “My first stint was my two week introduction, now I work every four days and come back for three. I have to go back in…”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He looks at the digital clock on the wall, unable to read analogue. “About twenty one hours.”

  “Right, be sure to let Jimbo know, he should be by the fuel tanks.” Gary says, waving them away. “Alright, off you go.”

  John and Amy rendezvous in the hallway just outside, a staircase back down to the ground floor right beside them.

  In their exploration of the inside after they'd woken up, they'd noticed that the building has no elevators. Usually, it's the other way around. Yet another thing adding to the hallowed vibes the place gives them.

  They grab each other's hands as John speaks to her.

  “Well, I suppose we're gonna be separated yet again huh?”

  They both look down at each other's shoes, speaking softly, almost melancholy. “But at least it won't be for long.” Amy replies, caressing his palm while he steadies himself up with his other hand.

  John looks up to her, a feeling brewing, like a mix of lamentation and worry. “Y'know Amy, I thought a lot about you on my walk back to the apartment. Not so much at work since my brain is occupied, but when it's quiet… I don't know. You seem to be there.”

  Amy giggles and grabs with her other hand. “Well that's good to know. I don't know… I've started to notice you a lot more when you're gone I feel like.”

  John smiles and looks back down. “Yeah. I get that. And I suppose there's gonna be more of that in the coming days.”

  He lets go of her hand as their eyes meet. “I'll see you later?”

  “You'd better!” Amy teases, punching his shoulder. She watches as he slowly goes down the staircase, his dead cybernetic leg smacking the floor with every step.

  John reaches the bottom and wastes no time. He kicks open the front door into the fabricated outside of the museum, shouting.

  “Hey! Jimbo!”

  “Yeah?! What?!” John hears from the top left side of the square obelisk. He crutch-walks his way there to meet with him.

  The two make eye contact, Jimbo looking a little fresher with his beard trimmed. “Hey hotshot, I thought that was your voice. How's it going?” Jimbo asks. John has a quick look at the fuel tanks, freshly filled with gasoline. He sees that they're gasoline tanks.

  “Gasoline? How the Hell can we afford gasoline?” Jimbo sniggers.

  “We steal it. It's a bitch to find but we steal it. That isn't the main thing we need though.” He slaps his hand on a long, white, slender tank right beside it that was much smaller and could be picked up.

  “This is the main son of a bitch. LPG. It's what all the vehicles run on. God, if the vehicles ran on gasoline they'd be older than me.”

  “Uhh… interesting.” John says, not quite knowing what he's getting at. “Well, it's funny you mentioned vehicles because you're gonna be teaching me how to drive.”

  Jimbo's face animates at the prospect. “Really?!”

  “Yes!” John replies, equally keen. Jimbo moves out the way, towards the obelisk exit. “Well shit. What are you waiting for? Follow me!”

  The absolute whiplash of entering outside is stunning. Jimbo holds the door open for John as they both exit. The door slams closed behind them in the rain, and John can barely see, his eyes having not adjusted yet.

  Jimbo gets beside John and supports him through the weather and towards the car he had in mind for John. A bolt of lightning rips through the atmosphere as John's senses finally adjust. Jimbo slaps the roof of the vehicle, yelling above the sound of the wind.

  “This bitch right here? A 2025 Nissan Versa, Six-Speed Manual Swap, 3.6 Litre LPG V6 from Holden… tuned and up-revved of course.”

  “I have no idea what any of that means.” Yells John.

  “Don’t worry, you will now. Just hop in!” Tells Jimbo, who opened the driver's door for him.

  As Jimbo entered the passenger seat, John inspected the interior.

  The inside is retro, but tastefully so. Almost like olden luxury. Many of the panels inside were hard plastic, but they had a cool, almost cracked texture to them. Most of the interior was black, with some gray and silver trim.

  The dials looked so retro, being analog. It even had one of those ones that counted up in thousands, though its purpose is still unknown.

  “So, have you ever driven a car before?” Jimbo asks. John answers, still looking around the interior.

  “Uhh… once very briefly. I was driving on roads and there was a lot of sliding around. I have piloted MeKSUTs though.”

  “Well, that's great.” Says Jimbo. Just before Jimbo is able to continue, John notices a weird stick poking out of the utility panel between them. He points at it, having to interrupt Jimbo.

  “Uhh… what's that for?”

  Jimbo looks as John grabs the stick and wiggles it side-to-side. “That's a gear shifter.” He explains. “It allows you to swap gears in order to go faster.”

  “What's a gear?” Asks John, genuinely clueless, as he then notices the pedals. “And why the hell does it have three pedals?!”

  Jimbo begins grasping the task ahead of him given John's naivety and the rarity of this machine. He puts his hand on John's shoulder.

  “Boy. Stop freaking out. It's not that important. You see, this has what is called a ‘Manual Transmission’ and you are likely going to be the first person in decades to learn how to use one.”

  John remembers back to the ride here, remembering a distinct lack of ‘gear shifter’ in that one. “Are there any cars that don't have that and just have a… what I guess is a regular transmission?”

  “Yes.” Admits Jimbo. “But something you should learn is that, sometimes, the better thing is not always the easiest thing. Trust me, I’d know.”

  John looks at the gear shifter again, then at the third pedal. But then he looks around the interior to see how nice it is. Even with it having been made fifty nine years ago, it almost looks like it came straight out of the factory.

  “...so I have to do more than just push the pedal to drive this thing?”

  “Yes.” Admits Jimbo. “Definitely. But, as I said, sometimes the better thing is not always the easiest thing.”

  “Alright.” Says John. “Let's do it.”