The young eco terrorist walked out of the Port of Arrivals, poking and tapping at his communicator. Fuhito opened the maps, and poked at a destination. He blinked, felt horribly nauseated and was someplace new, and sandier.
"Oh dear Leviathan-- Go back! I want to go back to the city!"
He blinked again, and he was back. Fuhito had read the guide,
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