“So this is supposed to be some kind of re-creation of the Nehi Indians’ Bottle Town,” grumbled Captain Spocari Nemoy, standing on the edge of the sim and staring across a shallow bay — perhaps another, larger borrow pit even — toward Wallytown’s main beach. “I doubt it, but I have to examine all angles before the Great Descent. Orange versus Purple.”
He checks his watch on his laser weaponed arm. “10:00am: better get over to Bar Lemon and talk to Natali or, ahem, Molly Lustrous again about all this,” he continued talking to himself. “I of course have to filter what she says through my radical logic, but the babe’s a total fount of information, lemony past and all. Plus I kind of like watching her dance; must appeal to my human side.” But he better watch that, else the green blood immunity might be negated.