First off, apologies for not updating the game in a week. I've been preparing to test up to my black belt in martial arts, which has effectively destroyed anything that resembled an evening of lounging about. I should be able to update this further and more often, now that I've done most of the test cramming.
ONBOARD THE TRANSBOT...
After a very jerky and vibratey acceleration, you are moving down the tunnel at quite a clip. The usual screech of metal against metal announces the beginning of a slow turn to line you up in the direction of general traffic - that is, the M1A1. A monstrous and almost deafening sound (that resembles a *HONK* if it had illegally procreated with a *CHIRP* to produce some horrid offspring) echoes for a moment in the tunnel, then quickly fades and is replaced by the brightness of the well-lit expressway out both sides of the transbot. You are gliding about 5-10 feet higher than the vehicle passengers on both sides; there are 5 lanes moving in your direction on the right, and 5 lanes moving towards you on the left, and are colored progressively higher the nearer to the median they are (where your track is located). Looking up ahead on the right, you see in the YELLOW lane a gigantic semi-trailer with the immediately recognizable B3 logo plastered all over it, partially hiding what looks like a single file arrangement of autohacks cruising at a pace that you'll soon be overtaking without much effort - I mean, no effort, because you're not driving the transbot, I guess.
ONBOARD THE AUTOHACK...
Peter manages to strap himself in securely in the back seat. Seamus, still holding his megaphone, is in his seat but his knees are at a funny angle, lodging him securely in place...but by his knees, and not some marginally tested restraint device.
After a few quick turns in which right-of-way is more or less ceded to the autohack for fear of what might happen if they don't, you are rapidly gaining speed on the on-ramp to the M1A1 Intersector Expressway. It merges carefully in between a couple of other autohacks, forming a squat little convoy in the rightmost lane. Reading the plexiglas-encased speedometer, you see 45. The same number, 45, is painted at regular intervals in your lane, in bright RED paint. Looking over, you see as the lanes approach the medium, the numbers and clearance colors go up: an ORANGE 60, a YELLOW 70, and then a rainbow of GREEN, BLUE, INDIGO, and VIOLET stripes in the last two lanes, but there are no numbers - just regular stripes of color.
The autohack convoy seems to move as one entity coordinated by some unseen choreographer, and slows down behind a RED citizen who somehow has managed to steer a Transition (the anti-grav scooter things from earlier) out onto the expressway without getting plowed over. Judging from the speedometer, you're now doing 30, and the Transition's anti-grav disc is glowing white hot. Through the autohacks vents, you smell a strong ozone odor.
You hear the echoing of a transbot horn as you see it rise out of the depths of a tunnel from beneath the concrete median, to your left beyond the GBIV lanes - its track effectively separates the oncoming lanes from your own. It's moving a little faster than you - somewhere around 50ish, judging from how fast it's gaining on you. In a few moments, its occupants will be partially obscured by a gigantic semi-trailer with the distinctive B3 logo plastered all over its length, its tires bouncing roughly over the seamed pavement, in the YELLOW lane.
