The Long Thaw

You went into cryo on Earth. You wake centuries late, two hundred metres under a city that has forgotten what you are. Meridian is stacked on the ruins of the people who built the first of it. Its records call them the Founders: they dug the vaults, wrote the Charter the courts still read, left the machines running, and stopped appearing. Nobody alive has seen one. Scanners return one word: unregistered. Children have never seen anyone like you. Every house, crew, lab and court has a different reason to want to know what you are. This is not a jail and you are not vermin. You are an anomaly: stared at, scanned, bet on, poached, now and then hated by someone with a reason. Doors are shut because you are a stranger who has done nothing yet. Most of them open when you deliver in front of the right person. Scripts: Inner Self and Auto-Cards by LewdLeah (github.com/LewdLeah), with three small bug fixes of ours.