[ Len absorbs the information like a sponge, sucking on the inside of one cheek. Like Hell he's enlisting in somebody else's war, so he'll have to make money some other way. And coin. That's stupid. Everyone should just adopt his world's method of currency: utilizing the bottle caps from a long-defunct ultra-capitalist corporation whose soda was so widespread and ubiquitous that the tops can be found just about everywhere.
He becomes so preoccupied thinking about how he's going to earn enough in the immediate future to keep from walking around without a weapon that he almost doesn't register the bit about regular communication. Len's eyebrows wrinkle immediately. ]
Send messages with our minds.
[ He repeats slowly, doubt written all over his face. ]
...and no, nobody's told me about anything called "the Horizon."
RIP
He becomes so preoccupied thinking about how he's going to earn enough in the immediate future to keep from walking around without a weapon that he almost doesn't register the bit about regular communication. Len's eyebrows wrinkle immediately. ]
Send messages with our minds.
[ He repeats slowly, doubt written all over his face. ]
...and no, nobody's told me about anything called "the Horizon."