Following a grueling bit of interrogation, Doyt awakens slowly. But the A.I. he shares the body with has been awake the whole time...
(doyt) Ugh. What happened, haban? Did I talk?
(haban, thinking) You sang like a little bird, Doyt. But I learned a LOT from their questions. In fact, if we could escape, I think I may know enough to bring their entire operation to a grinding, gorey halt.
(doyt, thinking) Do you know enough to figure out how to escape?
(haban, thinking) Aye, there's the rub(doyt, thinking) If you mean 'no,' just think 'no.' okay?
Eeew... what's that hideous last frame all about? To be honest, I was getting a little bored with Doythaban's facial features as he argued with himself, and it occurred to me that perhaps if I was bored, my readers might be too (I know, it's a stretch, but that's the way I think--assuming that most people think like me, only with smaller, more manageable egos). So I figured I'd give you all a nice cross-section of Doythaban's head and neck, showing Doyt's shrivelly pink-grey brain and Haban's shiny nanoptic matrices, carbosilicate metaorganic connectors, and fiddly bits with round ends (I'm not sure what they're for, but they're a prominent feature in the high-tech widgets of the Schlockiverse.) Hopefully it sparked enough interest for you to come back tomorrow. Or maybe it grossed you out enough that you'll go read something safer, like Vicious Lies or Randym Thoughts.