“That’s quite an exotic name,” says Doug uncomfortably as he moves slowly and deliberately towards a chair, “Is it Middle Eastern, Asian or African maybe? Perhaps Dutch?”

Qual-ict adjusts his position amid the shadows blanketing his large desk in the far corner of the room and replies, “It is more...complicated than that, I’m afraid.”

“Oh? Are you going to tell me that I am aboard some sort of alien ship?” asks Doug next.

“No, it’s nothing of the sort. This is all going to sound complex but I implore you to bear with me. Poor Angela is still trying to process the entire story.  I will need you to listen very closely. We have hit a precarious impasse with mankind,” explains Qual-ict.

Doug leans closer, placing his elbows...

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