The Egime is a sleek, elegantly crafted airship of unknown, alien design. It is, perhaps, 5000 feet long and 2500 feet wide, although the habitable area inside is probably more like 4500 fee long and 2000 feet wide. The outer hull is constructed of a thick, pewter metal that seems capable of withstanding everything from the rigors of outer space to the pressure of the bottom of the ocean. The ship is more or less shaped like a football, with three rings evenly distributed around the outside. Three fins protrude off of the back, surrounding a beacon of green-ish blue light. Just what's generating the light is a mystery. The best guess, however, is that it's some kind of engine.

Beneath the hull is the cockpit, a separate section of the ship. It's held in place by a metal beam, but there's no bridge or tunnel connecting it to the rest of the ship. There are also no windows or doors evident. At present, there is no way to get into or out of the cockpit. How mysterious!

Painted across the starboard side of the hull is the ship's name: The Egime. It's written in a language that no one knows, translated only by virtue of the Nysgod ear buds. Unlike the rest of the ship, the paint seems very low-tech, as if someone painted it by hand on a spur of the moment. The letters are blue and elegant.

Beneath the name of the ship is a single gangplank, about four feet wide and nine feet long. It opens into a cargo bay on Deck 1 that reaches all the way up to Deck 6, a wide, open space lined with catwalks. There is a community Net Box located in the cargo hold. Unlike the Net Boxes in the state rooms, this can be used to send transmissions by the candidates.

The hallways of the Egime are smooth and elegant. They seem to be formed out of a thick, opaque pink crystal, like quartz only a thousand times stronger. There are no visible lighting sources. The light just seems to emanate from the walls themselves. They're brighter during the day and dimmer at night, as if to simulate a solar cycle.

There do not appear to be any windows anywhere on the ship.

The ship has nine decks. Candidates can move from deck to deck by means of three voice-activated elevator tubes, one forward, one midship, one aft. Each elevator is about fifteen square feet, so they can get pretty tight.

Decks 1-3
The lowest decks contain the state rooms. These are large, comfortable quarters, all uniformly laid out:



Like the hallways, the rooms are carved out of the same pink crystal material. However, each room comes with a dial that can control the amount of light.

The furniture for each room is provided. Passengers will find a queen-sized bed, a large cabinet, a less-than-comfortable chair, and two unusually shaped nightstands. Additionally, each state room comes equipped with a flatscreen Net Box, mounted on the wall opposite the bed. There does not appear to be any kind of control to turn these Net Boxes on or off. They have a mind of their own and cannot be used for personal transmissions.

Rooms are not assigned. Anyone can choose any room they so desire. Consequently, there are no keys and no locks. Anyone is free to wander into anyone else's room at pretty much any time. Any sort of magical or mechanical lock rigged up by a passenger will past for approximately five hours before falling off or breaking.

Decks 1-3 are also equipped with two bathrooms, one on each end of each deck. Like the state rooms, these bathrooms do not lock. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, hair remover, mouthwash, and toothpaste are all dispensed from pumps along the walls. Be careful not to mix them up! There are towels, toothbrushes, condoms, and loofahs in the cabinets, but the supply isn't infinite, so make sure to share. There also doesn't appear to be a washing machine, but there is a pump that dispenses laundry detergent, by the tub.

The water tends to run cold. Oddly enough, it's an unnatural shade of blue. Although it's perfectly drinkable, and doesn't taste as if it contains any dyes, there's something oddly unsettling about it, especially when it's swirling around the tub drain. It's almost hypnotic.

Decks 4-5
Decks 4 and 5 seem to be largely dedicated to recreation. Deck 4 consists entirely of six large, empty chambers. These chambers are holodecks, almost straight out of the Star Trek Universe. As on the show, they have a voice-activated computer system. Characters may enter an unoccupied chamber and verbally state the nature of the holographic illusion they wish to create.

Unlike the holodecks on Star Trek, however, these chambers are not quite as advanced. The holograms the holodecks can generate are limited to games. Users can name any game they can think of, from checkers to ultimate frisbee, and the computer will generate all the equipment necessary to play that game, along with a suitable environment for it. What the computer will not generate, however, is other people. Only the candidates can actually play these games.

Example: Aquagirl walks into the holodeck and says, "Water polo." The computer will create a pool, a ball, and even water polo uniforms. But it will not create other players for Aquagirl to play with. She'll have to drag some of her friends in to play with her.

Another Example: Doctor Fate enters a holodeck and says, "Chess." The computer generates a delightful, Victorian salon, with wafty curtains and squashy leather chairs. In the middle of the salon is a chess board, with pieces carved out of ebony and ivory. He's on his own to find an opponent.

Deck 5 contains several comfortable lounges that seem to bear an eerie resemblance to those in the Dagaz Waiting Room.

The Green Room is built like a theatre, with stadium seating looking up at a stage. There is a large screen and a projector, and a control box on the back wall offers a variety of film options from across the universe to watch. These are films that do not hail from any of the candidates' homeworlds, although some may bear a striking resemblance to familiar stories.

Example: Green Lantern really wants to watch "Old Yeller." He goes to the control panel and searches through the Netflix-like database, until he finds a movie from the Andromeda galaxy about a boy and his dog called "Young Orange." Close enough, right?

The Purple Room is built like an old-fashioned tavern. There's a counter along one wall, though the bottles on the shelves are all empty. Wooden tables, seating eight, are scattered across the hardwood floor. Built into the wall are metal units that dispense the same tasteless nutrient paste that was available in Dagaz. There seems to be an unending supply. There are also a couple musical instruments against the wall; a piano, a standing bass, and a drum set. They're a bit out of tune, but they all seem to work.

The Blue Room is a library and a lounge. There are dozens and dozens of squashy chairs and couches scattered across one half of the room, as well as various tables of assorted sizes. The other half of the room is lined with bookshelves, filled with books from hundreds of different worlds. Most of these books appear to be romance novels.

The Red Room is a wide, open room, with tumbling mats piled up in a corner. It appears to be a place for physical activity, but there's no other equipment.

There is something about all of these lounges that feels very slapdash and haphazard, as if they were assembled in a hurry, like set pieces for a play. It would not be unusual to spot an odd crack in one of the walls, revealing the pink crystal hidden behind it that makes up the power decks. The furniture is just a little too pristine, as if it's never been used. The books are so disorganized and out of order that it feels as if they were just thrown up on the shelves at random.

At the very foremost part of Deck 5 is a beautiful observation lounge. At first glance, it seems to be the only part of the ship with windows, but upon closer inspection, it seems that these "windows" are simply enormous screens, displaying random images of different landscapes that change every twelve hours.

Deck 6
Deck 6 contains the facilities necessary to sustain life, namely the medical bay, the kitchen, and the dining hall. That said, these facilities are dusty and understocked, almost as if they've never been needed or used before.

The medical bay is small and cramped, with seven beds, each with a single pillow. The beds themselves are x-ray machines, that display full skeleton x-rays on the screen that rests over their heads. There are two Net Boxes, mounted on the wall. Like the screens in the state rooms, these have no controls and cannot be used for personal transmissions. They turn off and on under someone else's power.

Along the wall opposite the Net Boxes are several large supply cabinets. They are filled largely with the most basic of medical supplies: aspirin, bandages, disinfectant, ether gas, and maiden tea. Additionally, there are a few ancient medical supplies; trepanning equipment, a jar of leeches, dried herbs from folk remedies, a bone saw, and several bottles of a thick, red liquid that are simply labeled 'Healing Potion.'

Like the medical bay, the kitchen is cramped and obviously underutilized. There is a large refrigeration unit, a sink with the same blue water as the bathrooms, an electric range, an industrial-sized oven, a dish washer, and plenty of counter space. The cabinets hold plain, white dishware and gold flatware. The pantry, however, is barely stocked. There are a few non-perishable items (cans of syrup-heavy fruits and vegetables and boxes of dried pasta), but other than that, there's not much there at present.

The dining hall is similarly ill-equipped. While it is pretty, filled with tables and chairs of different shapes and sizes, it's in a state of disrepair. Many of those tables and chairs are broken. There are three dispensers that dispense cups of nutrient paste against the wall where the dining hall meets the kitchen. There is also a window where passengers can pass dirty plates and utensils into the kitchen, via conveyer belt.

Deck 7
Characters who go up to the seventh deck will discover a strange world. It's a bit like the chalk paintings from Mary Poppins and everything up there seems designed to keep a person calm, relaxed, and content. The seventh deck is a beautiful, serene meadow, colors brighter than an oil painting. There's fresh and crisp grass underfoot, weeping willows as far as the eye can see, drifting lazily in the anomalous and directionless wind. Near the forward part of the ship is a placid, silvery lake, filled with colorful fish. The fish actually look tropical, although they're far from what might be considered their native environment. Strangely, they're not edible. Anyone who catches a fish will find that it disappears after a few seconds of flopping around.

Near the aft part of the ship, the meadow gives way to several gardens, each with a different theme. The first is an herb garden, growing medicinal herbs. They're fragrant and quite real. Beyond that is a rose garden, the bushes arrayed like a labyrinth. At the center is a white, wooden gazebo. The roses come in every color imaginable and can be picked, sniffed, and dried. The one exception to this is a single bush of silver roses, arranged around the gazebo. From some reason, these flowers refuse to be picked. Cutting, pulling, or begging them is useless. They aren't going anywhere. There's a third garden beyond the rose garden. It's arranged almost identically to the rose garden, but filled instead with every flower conceivable. If you are looking for a specific type of flower, you'll find it there. Almost as if by magic, it will be around the next corner, waiting for you.

Beyond the gardens is a colorful carousel. It plays strange music that sounds like a full symphony. Instead of horses, rider can perch on white tigers. They have sapphire eyes and move up and down, just like any other carousel ride. Sitting on one gives a rider a sense of elation, like anything is possible. It's an incredible high that will stay with a person for an hour or so after getting off.

Oh yes, the setting is idyllic, although the keen eye will detect some things amiss. For example, carved into the bark of the trees are strange chemical equations, detailing biological functions. Someone who's been around awhile might recognize the handwriting as Casey's. Another oddity is the sky. Although it seems a brilliant blue, every now and then, cracks appear, like lightning, only pink as the quartz walls of the ship.

Decks 8-9
At present, no one can seem to access the upper decks. The elevators refuse to go up that high, stubbornly opening on Deck 7.

What could be hiding up there?