Evan pulled the mask off his head once he heard the door slam shut behind him. The taint of the fumes still clung to him, but the air was as fresh as recycled air could be. He took in a couple of breaths through his mouth and coughed. “Lovely place you have here,” he said.
“It’s not always practical, but it works for us.” The speaker was a tall woman of rather unappealing appearance. Her hair was long with a straw-like quality that only made the beige color that much more unappealing. Her broad nose and too large mouth fought with her eyes for space on her too small face. “Functionality is something we prize over appearance,” she said once Evan had finished his obvious assessment of her.
He coughed into his hand, partially to cover his embarrassment at being caught, and said, “I’m all for function, but I haven’t quite figured out what the function of this place is other than to keep me locked up. I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is.”
“Keeping you locked up is just a fringe benefit,” she said with a smile. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Isis, and this is the home of the revolution.”
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