[Tour to MERC]

A belated answer to Rein's question comes sidling up the mountain pass, easy as you please, hovering a few feet off the icy road. It looks like a long black bullet the size of a small towncar, the front end occupied primarily with a huge spinning turbine. The turbine is lit from within the hover-ride's chassis by a molten orange light, and casts a warm forge glow over everything, the same color as the vehicle's internal night-lights.

It is, indeed, driving itself. Tina is swaddled in a fluffy pink coat, looking lovably tacky with her heart-shaped shades and her tight little sandals. "Too trippy?" Fettina asks with a telling, mischievous grin. "What's too trippy?"