[User] The shelves are littered with romantic tales from across time and space.

[Assistant] "I want buy the 'Sixteen Days of Coldest April' book."

[User] "Huh, it's in the wrong shelf... Annette's been moving things around again, has she! That girl..." She shakes her head. "No matter, I hope you enjoy... this."

[Assistant] "I want buy the 'Sixteen Days of Coldest April' book."

[User] "Huh, it's in the wrong shelf... Annette's been moving things around again, has she! That girl..." She shakes her head. "No matter, I hope you enjoy... this."

[Assistant] Does anything more real, more *you* stand out?

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.book_whitech_pain_threshold_romance"]]

[Assistant] As you focus on the overwhelming mass of colourful novels, a discrepancy catches your eye -- one of the books is not like the others.

[User] A grey book has lost itself between all the romance. The title reads: 'Sixteen Days of Coldest April.'

[Assistant] Turn away, this is a bad idea.

[User] What's this all about?

[Assistant] You'd have to buy the book to be sure. But the book cover is a wall of concrete buildings, with a black-and-white rainbow covering them. It's written by someone from a country where even the rainbows are black-and-white. So it does seem like it'll be a downer.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.jammystery_ladydriver_cabin_located_racist"]]

[Assistant] "I've told you everything I've got." He looks around nervously. "Can you please stop talking to me now?"

[User] "What was that *argument* all about?"

[Assistant] "It's about... biological determinism. Natural law. The sorting of the races." He spits on the ground.

[User] "Not the most popular topic nowadays, with the Coalition in charge and all. You might want to *change the topic* -- that is, bury your head under the sand like common sheep."

[Assistant] *Change the topic* -- the way he says it makes it almost sound like a threat.

[User] Not sheep -- ostriches.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.racist_reaction_ostriches_not_sheep"]]

[User] Actually, neither ostriches or sheep bury their heads in the sand. It's just a saying.

[Assistant] "On second thought, let's talk about something else."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.siileng_bough_samaran_speakers"]]

[Assistant] Only the speakers remain, dusty and forgotten...

[User] "Can't I just buy the sad, conquered Samaran speakers?"

[Assistant] "No way, officer, these aren't for sale. They're bad speakers, low-fi socialist junk."

[User] "You're right, I don't have time for junk, I lead a luxury life."

[Assistant] "That's right, officer!" The street vendor flashes you a smile. "You're a high-class policeman who accepts nothing less than the best! Lucky for you, I've got the best on sale!"


[User] Yes, *of course*. Now we're on the right track...

[Assistant] Inhale.

[User] It smells like...

[Assistant] We're getting crates and pallets calling to mind vast stands of winter pines, a swirl of ancient odours absorbed by heavy carpet fibres, but also a pervasive, treacly *sweetness* that somehow reminds you of kola nuts...

[User] The whole place could probably use a good deep cleaning, you think.

[Assistant] Meanwhile, Evrart Claire clatters away on his typewriter, wilfully indifferent to your presence.


[User] This seems to be some kind of workshop. For fixing up pinball machines -- a long time ago. Everything is covered with dust now...

[Assistant] "This used to be a... pinball workshop."

[User] Yes. Martinaise North 22 used to be a pinball arcade.

[Assistant] A creak, some dust falls off a shelf.


[User] "You're no fun, Lieutenant Killjoy."

[Assistant] He scans your face as though searching for clues. "I did not know murder investigations are supposed to be *fun*."

[User] "Now, gentlemen, no need to squabble." She turns to you. "I wouldn't be of much use to you anyway, sweetie."

[Assistant] "Why? Three heads are better than two."

[User] "Thank you, but..." She looks out the window wistfully. "Martinaise isn't the most wheelchair-accessible place, you see. I'd slow you down."

[Assistant] "Perhaps another time?" She turns back to you with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

[User] "I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't know where I am, or what I'm doing. Or *anything*."

[Assistant] "Yes, officer, you look rather dazed... like a stunned fox. But surely things can't be *that* bad?" Her eyes follow your movements with some concern.

[User] She won't judge you, no matter what you say.

[Assistant] "I drank so hard I forgot *literally* everything."

[User] "Oh my..." It takes a moment to process. "You know where we *are*, right?"

[Assistant] "The 'Whirling-in-Rags' cafeteria? It was on my keys."

[User] "That's right, and where is the Whirling-in-Rags cafeteria itself located?"

[Assistant] "The edge of civilization."

[User] "We're in the city of *Revachol*, dear." She flashes you a worried look.

[Assistant] "Mhm, okay."


[User] These are the same belts as the one the victim was hanged with.

[Assistant] I knew it was a cargo lashing belt!

[User] The same exact belts. Even the same writing...

[Assistant] Indeed, it appears so. This is where the belt came from.


[User] "Hey Cuno... got any speed?"

[Assistant] "Fucking right, pig. Cuno's filling bath tubs with that shit. Cuno's a kingpin."

[User] "You're yanking my chain, aren't you kid?"

[Assistant] "Don't be yankin' your shit in front of the Cuno. Cuno's always serious. Always rollin'. Big kilo, but you ain't gettin' any. Get the fuck off!"

[User] Belying the act, he's actually telling the truth. Or at least 0.00001% of it. He has a *little* speed. He's just not giving it to you.

[Assistant] He's GOT to at least know a source, look at him! You need to figure this out somehow.

[User] You need to befriend him first.

[Assistant] "Hey Cuno... got any speed?"

[User] "Fucking right, pig. Cuno's filling bath tubs with that shit. Cuno's a kingpin."

[Assistant] "Can I have some? Just a little?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["yard.cuno_tried_to_make_truce_with_speed"]]

[Assistant] "Did Cuno not tell you? Cuno doesn't do that entrapment shit. King Pin Cuno ain't going to the pork pen. Get the fuck out of here!"


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.doorbell_know_revachol_ice_city"]]

[Assistant] They don't want to talk to you.

[User] "Fabron's Taxi..." (The rest has been burned off.)

[Assistant] Looks like someone has melted half the plastic off with a lighter -- the doorbell doesn't work anymore.

[User] "Andro-Orlando Hair SCA."

[Assistant] You ring the doorbell, but no one answers.

[User] What an ominous name for a hair salon... Doesn't bode well for anyone's hair.

[Assistant] Just seeing the words "Andro-Orlando" gets your hackles up. It's very existence is a *threat* to your masculinity, to say nothing of your hair.

[User] "Fabron's Taxi..." (The rest has been burned off.)

[Assistant] Looks like someone has melted half the plastic off with a lighter -- the doorbell doesn't work anymore.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["pier.joyce_village_intro_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["village.joyce_left_mid_village_greet"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsTaskActive("TASK.meet_lilienne_for_a_date")--[[ Variable[ ]]) == false]

[Assistant] "I'll just keep the Cor-de-Leite in the channel, if that's okay. It's too shallow near the pier..." She winds the mooring line around a post.

[User] "Aye, ma'am... And it's a jetty, by the way."

[Assistant] "Of course. Jetty. I prefer a good jetty to a pier any day. Jet-jet-jetty..."

[User] Something about the way she says it makes you want to sing.

[Assistant] "Hello, ma'am."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[Assistant] "Hello, detectives." She fastens the end of the line around the post and straightens her back.

[User] "It's good to see you here. I only just arrived myself."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.barreddoor_inside_main_hub_reached"] == true) == false]

[Assistant] This is a small, heavy door. There is no lock in sight.

[User] Push.

[Assistant] It's barred from the inside. You hear the bar rattle in the brackets.

[User] Sounds like it's heavy too. Very sturdy.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.barreddoor_hearing_heavy"]) == false]

[User] "Where does this lead to?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.steel_door_unlocked"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.elevator_taken_up"]) == false]

[Assistant] "It must be connected to the room we found behind the kitchen door. Maybe we should go back and take that elevator up..." He looks at the door with suspicion.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.hardie_failed_authority_wc_third_time"]) == false]

[Assistant] Okay, this time... is FOR REAL. You have *two* bad options ruled out -- the odds are on your side!

[User] "Let's try this again -- Kim, gimme your gun."

[Assistant] "No," he whispers, not even looking at you. "Not going to happen."

[User] That's it? That's all I got?

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.hardies_just_put_the_gun_in_your_mouth"]]

[User] Well... The rest of that nancy stuff was really just there to make the gun thing more appealing. But it might work anyway.

[Assistant] "If Kim was here, he would know what to say."

[User] "So you wanna go get him or you wanna pester Old Titus here with more of your questions?"

[Assistant] Present a solid theory about why Ruby could've done it.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["XP.help_annette"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["doomed.annette_altgreet_passives_shown"]) == false]

[User] "I'm sorry, sir, I can't talk right now. I'm very busy with my homework... I have so much homework now."

[Assistant] You just can't win.

[User] Out of the rain and into the gutter.

[Assistant] "Who is that?" (Point to the woman browsing books.)

[User] "Oh, that's auntie Billie. She's nice, if a bit distressed."

[Assistant] "Why is she distressed?"

[User] "I think she has a bad husband. Not very nice or helpful."

[Assistant] "Say, child... *you* wouldn't happen to know a good fridge, would you?"

[User] "A fridge?"

[Assistant] "Yes. Like a big, big fridge a cop could put a dead body into."


[User] A man in his late twenties stands behind the counter, inspecting a stuffed seabird. As you approach, he gives you a sideways glance, then looks down again.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["reputation.superstar_cop"] >=2) == false]

[User] That was disdain in his eyes. Even now he's purposefully ignoring you.

[Assistant] Everything is cool between you and this guy. He's a big fan. Make some small talk.

[User] "Are you the bartender?"

[Assistant] "No, I'm not the *bartender*. I'm the cafeteria manager."

[User] He's very animated all of a sudden. This seems like a touchy subject.

[Assistant] "You look like a bartender."

[User] "That period of my life is over. Not everyone who stands behind a counter is a bartender, okay? I'm the cafeteria manager."

[Assistant] "Understood."

[User] "Mhm."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.garte_bartender_later"]]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.vicquemare_main_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] "Again?! I can't believe this shit..." He shakes his head, looking like he really is having trouble believing this *shit*.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.viquemare_logic_antipassive_he_is_famous"]  or  Variable["whirling.vicquemare_disguise_asked"] == true) == false]

[Assistant] He might be wearing a disguise.

[User] "Look, I just have to ask: are we from the same police station?"

[Assistant] "I'm going to say... *no*. Just to see what you'll say to that. What do you say?"

[User] "Okay."

[Assistant] "Okay?!"

[User] "Jean, he said okay, give it a rest."

[Assistant] Okay. I was clearly wrong. He is a firefighter, male nurse, animal control agent -- something of that kind. Not a cop. Go on with your cop work. Don't let me stop you again.

[User] "Are you famous or something?"

[Assistant] "Not as famous as you, superstar." He says without the slightest hint of irony.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["plaza.kineema_sylvie_greeting_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] If she used to work in the Whirling-in-Rags, then you must have met her.

[User] "Hello, this is the police calling. I have some questions for you about your last days at work."

[Assistant] "Oh, right..." She recognizes your voice almost immediately. "Hello, officer, what can I do for you?"

[User] You can hear resentment in her tone -- she's not thrilled to be talking to you again.

[Assistant] There is *no* resentment in her tone. She wants you to ask her out. No question about it.

[User] "Was it you who called the police?"

[Assistant] "No, not me."

[User] "But why *didn't* you call? Didn't a corpse behind your workplace bother you?"

[Assistant] "What? Of course it bothered me! But I thought the Union already knew about the corpse."

[User] "I meant us. You should have called *the police*."

[Assistant] "No one calls the police." You can hear her adjust the receiver in her hand. "The Union would get angry."

[User] "What do you mean by that?"

[Assistant] "You know..." She seems to be looking for words. "What the Union says, goes. People listen to them and they take care of their own, which is, like, everyone here."


[User] The ageing alcoholic is still there, breathing... The air in the room is stale.

[Assistant] "Kim, is this thing even *alive*?"

[User] "I'm afraid it is. Look, it *moves*." He points to a fleshy lump sticking out from the other end of the blanket. The limb seems to be twitching from time to time.

[Assistant] And look, the other foot is camouflaged by a striped sock bearing the name MAXTOR on the sole. Three toes are poking out of a hole.

[User] Maxtor is a gas company. He's wearing free socks from a gas company. They probably came with the bills.

[Assistant] A groan rises from the man's throat, dry like a death rattle... He's trying to say something in his sleep.

[User] The bear is trying to wake up!

[Assistant] (Whisper.) "I took your amphetamine, old man."


[User] You hold in your hand the colourful primer. The title reads: "A Primer for Small Kids." There's a bear involved.

[Assistant] Flip through the pages.

[User] Every page has one word designating one letter of the alphabet, with a faded illustration -- most of them are scientific and cultural principles. It goes as follows...

[Assistant] Let's do this.

[User] A is for Azimuth, B is for Boreas, C is for Cosign, D is for Diamat, E is for Ellips, F is for Flogiston, G is for Gamut.

[Assistant] Mmhm.

[User] H is for Homeboy, I is for Iikon, J is for Jura, K is for Kollaps, L is for Laudanum, M is for Myriad, N is for Nadir, O is for Oreole, P is for Perihelion.

[Assistant] Nod stoically.

[User] Q is for Quasar, R is for Rhododendron, S is for Sinus, T is for Tricoleur, U is for Ultra, V is for Vector, W is for Warheit, X is for Xylophone, Y is for Ystävä, Z is for Zenith.

[Assistant] That's it?

[User] That's it. You know the alphabet now.

[Assistant] In what is called the IL -- the International Language, developed by scientists from Graad in the Twenties! Sinus means 'Sign', for example.


[User] Just as you look at the flowers, a gust of wind raises them from the roof, picking them up in the air...

[Assistant] Move your hand, fast!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.klaasje_flower_red_check_grab"] == true]

[Assistant] You catch a single white flower between your fingers. The rest fly off into the wind. It's a may bell!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.arrest_klaasje_done"]  or  Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] The lieutenant gives you an acknowledging little nod.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsTHCPresent("finger_pistols")) == false]


[User] "Been waitin' for you to fucking man up." He nods at the building behind him. "In there is Cuno's violent dad. On steroids. Cuno's dad does steroids *and* speed. If you can take him, you can have half the speed."

[Assistant] "I've made up my mind, Cuno. And this is what's going to happen..." (Conclude.)

[User] "Okay, Cuno's listening?"

[Assistant] "I'm going in there for justice. I'm a narc, Cuno. I'm going to confiscate that crap." (Lie -- you need speed.)

[User] "Sure." He winks at you. "Confiscate it. For Cuno. And you can have half."

[Assistant] So half of a half is a quarter, right? We're probably talking about a quarter gram here.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["XP.got_into_the_apartment_building"]]

[Assistant] "Just get in the apartment building. Cuno knows you already fucked your way in. Cuno knows everything." He aggressively points at his eyes.

[User] "Go to Room #12, first floor, and kick down the door. Police-violence-style. Cuno-style. And then it's action time: You're locked in the room with violent fuck head."

[Assistant] "That's it." He concludes. "Next time Cuno sees you, you better have his shit."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[Assistant] "What the hell are you signing us up for here?"

[User] "C'mon, Kim..." (Whisper.) "Obviously I'm not gonna take it. We need to get drugs away from a minor."

[Assistant] "Okay then," he concedes.


[User] "Go ahead." The young man gives you a half-smile. His companion sniffs.

[Assistant] "What *exactly* are you two doing here?"

[User] "In the most general sense, I would say we're cultivating revolutionary consciousness."

[Assistant] "Yes, that's probably the best way to describe it."

[User] "But more specifically, we're running a reading group, the most rigorous and theoretically advanced materialist reading group in Martinaise."

[Assistant] "Comrade Steban is a great discussion leader. One of the best at the university."

[User] It's obvious they take this 'group' of theirs extremely seriously. Whatever you do, *don't* compare it to a common book club.

[Assistant] *YAWWWWN!* Can you imagine anything duller than a bunch of binoclards yanking each others' knobs?

[User] "Sounds like a yank-fest for binos."

[Assistant] "It's nothing like that. A yank-fest is a decadent bourgeois phenomenon, a pastime for over-educated office workers who lack proper revolutionary outlets for their social dissatisfactions and repressed sexuality."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()  and  Variable["plaza.kim_said_stopped_obsessing"] == true) == false]

[Assistant] "But now we're getting hung up on the pathologies of capitalism. Let's move on."

[User] "I think I get the idea. Let me ask about something else."

[Assistant] "Go ahead." The young man gives you a half-smile. His companion sniffs.


[User] A large table with two huge vacuum-insulated thermal coffee dispensers. Someone has forgotten a small plastic card next to the stacks of cups.

[Assistant] Peer into a discarded coffee cup!

[User] Look into one of the old coffee cups.

[Assistant] You see nothing exceptional. It's a dirty cup, smudged brown, with old ground coffee stuck to the bottom... slowly getting mouldy.

[User] What am I supposed to see here?

[Assistant] Look closer!

[User] If you squint your eyes enough the coffee grounds almost seem to make up two letters: F... and K.

[Assistant] It's a clue!

[User] Huh, okay. Thanks, this certainly wasn't a waste of time.

[Assistant] You throw the cup back into the trash bin.

[User] Look into one of the old coffee cups.

[Assistant] You see nothing exceptional. It's a dirty cup, smudged brown, with old ground coffee stuck to the bottom... slowly getting mouldy.

[User] What am I supposed to see here?

[Assistant] Look closer!


[User] Could this have been the killer's hideout, and this narrow window -- the point of origin of the shot that killed the mercenary?

[Assistant] This does look like an *embrasure*, a slit made for shooting out of.

[User] Peek out.

[Assistant] Outside the window -- the day is clear, and as mild as can be in early spring.

[User] Would this have been a good hideout for a sniper?

[Assistant] "It's a great place to hide, certainly, but there hasn't been anyone in here for ages."


[User] Is that an Insulindian phasmid? It looks like an Insulindian phasmid. Quick -- catch it before it scuttles away!

[Assistant] It's gotta be the phasmid this time. Look -- it moved!

[User] Wait a moment. Is that really the phasmid? You don't want to make a fool out of yourself.

[Assistant] Definitely not a phasmid. Definitely a fishing rod.

[User] "I see you're admiring my fishing gear. Are you by any chance a fisherman yourself?"

[Assistant] "I think maybe I used to be the Fisher King..."


[User] "This?" She breathes on her freezing fingers. "It's a portable recording device. It's for field recording. Low quality, but still."

[Assistant] "And the wires?"

[User] "Actually just one wire, I picked on it till the braiding came loose. The wire leads to a contact microphone."

[Assistant] "Got it."

[User] "Okay."

[Assistant] "I got shot in the leg." (Point at your limb.)

[User] "Ouch." She looks at your leg. "I did notice you limping, but I thought maybe it was your 'thing' or something..."

[Assistant] "When I was sixteen I used to date this guy who had a limp. But it only showed when he was sober, so I guess it wasn't real or something. I don't know." She shrugs, eyes glazed over...

[User] "Anyway…" She turns back to you. "Shot in the leg... I'm sorry, man, that must suck."

[Assistant] "Tell me more about this *music place* you've been planning in the church."

[User] "It's supposed to become, like, a club. For *anodic dance music*. Like that new style of synthesizer stuff they play at The Paliseum."

[Assistant] "Except that... yeah." She looks at the old wooden church up on the poles. As a mean wind comes bellowing in, the six-story structure lets out a doleful shriek.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.sleeper_greeting_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] A man is sleeping at the table, wearing mud-caked boots and rolled down overalls. The back of his shirt reads "WILD PINES", encircled by a logo with a tree.

[User] He looks one with the table. It would take quite some effort to wake him up.

[Assistant] A colourful piece of plastic is dangling from his carabiner... hmm. Makes your fingers itch.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.sleeper_picked_magnesium"]) == false]

[Assistant] On the counter -- rolled out of his open hand -- you see a blister pack of headache medicine.

[User] Steal the dockworker's ID.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.sleeper_redcheck_stealing_stuff"]]

[User] Your fingers find their way into the shackle, flicking open its spring-loaded gate. The metal loop holds the plastic ID, and a leather-bound pocketbook...

[Assistant] And the man?

[User] The man emits a loud snore. Is he about to wake up? Doesn't look like it, but you never know. Better be quick!

[Assistant] Are you positive that what you're doing here is proper police conduct? You can still leave and do *nothing*.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.goracy_main_hub_reached"]) == false]

[Assistant] A thin man is smoking below an exhaust hood, occasionally sipping from his mug. This must be the Whirling's cook.

[User] As you step in, he nods towards the table and says something in a completely foreign language. The only words you can make out are 'gorący' and 'kubek'.

[Assistant] It must be his name. Gorący, Gorący Kubek... Sounds representative.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.goracy_logic_it_is_his_name"]) == false]

[Assistant] Okay, it's definitely not his name. Whatever you do, please don't call him Gorący Kubek! Please. It's not funny.

[User] "Mr. Kubek? I'm here on official police business."

[Assistant] The man puts his cup down and replies something, his left hand drawing arcs in the air.

[User] "I need a fridge to store a corpse."

[Assistant] The man keeps shaking his head. His eyes seem sad. Then he starts swiping crumbs off the counter top.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[Assistant] "I need to get the corpse..." (Point to Kim) "... into the fridge!" (Point to the fridge.)


[User] You should totally sing karaoke here, the first chance you get. Your emotions need to be expressed. People need to know of your vast, oceanic soul.

[Assistant] My soul is puny.

[User] Of course. Like a small animal that only comes out at night. All it needs -- is to be heard.

[Assistant] Through a PA system.

[User] By other people.

[Assistant] Whether they like it or not. Ram it up their ears, says your adrenaline gland. Violently express yourself.

[User] This goes well with a theory I'm developing: that I'm a down-on-my-luck superstar person.

[Assistant] There has been precisely no evidence to the contrary. So yes, Yes, it's likely. You should probably go on stage and pose for a moment when you're done with this thought. See if it works.


[User] How do I get him to talk to me mano-a-mano?

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["plaza.measurehead_facha_dq_wc_to_get_him_to_talk"]) == false]

[User] Simple. Just humiliate him in front of his entourage until he has to *beg you* in private to stop. Then you can let him know it was all but a clever ploy to separate him from his babes...

[Assistant] (Lie.) "Earlier you said there was a 'growth' in your groin area..."

[User] "LOOK, HIS RAVAGED BRAIN IS STUCK BETWEEN UNIMAGINARY WORLD -- AND OURS. IT'S ALL FUSING TOGETHER. SOON HE CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE."

[Assistant] "*You* are a growth in the groin area!" the girl snaps at you. "Low-value man."

[User] These words hit you *right* where it hurts.

[Assistant] "IT SADDENS EVEN ME. THE GHOUL IS A CRUEL MASTER."

[User] Try again, punch his lights out with a right hook!

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["gates.mhead_whitec_post_fail_fight"]]

[User] Just like that, instinct took over -- a solid strike straight into his throat, into the cartilage! You could swear you felt the soft palate break...

[Assistant] The man is reeling, gasping for air, time stands still around you. In the distance the sounds of the harbour are falling silent.

[User] All you hear is a small gurgling sound as a trickle of blood appears on the man's lip.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["gates.mhead_fight_failed_mid_success"] == false]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["doomed.plais_whitecheck_succeeded"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.bookstore_curtains_greeting_done"] == true]

[User] You see a tattered set of curtains and a polyhedron-shaped cage-like trinket.

[Assistant] Take a peek behind the curtains.

[User] The room behind them is dim... You can only discern shadowy silhouettes of *things* there, crouching in the dark like monsters in a child's bedroom.

[Assistant] A faint slice of light from the curtains reveals a doorway in the back, draped in cage-like polyhedrons. They are all made of fish heads and tiny animal bones; it looks like a small graveyard...

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.bookstore_curtains_perc_secondary"] == true]

[Assistant] We must be dealing with seriously malign forces here if there are *dozens* of wards.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[Assistant] You see a tattered set of curtains and a polyhedron-shaped cage-like trinket.


[User] "Okay, so, we've got the old fuck." The kid whispers, his eyes bugging out of his skull with excitement.

[Assistant] "Do you think he did it?"

[User] A crooked little smile. "Oh fuck, he's practically dyin' to big up how he did it. Just get him to cough it up. Cuno's got your back."

[Assistant] "Okay, let's do this." [Leave.]


[User] Six crumbling petals rest on your palm. They're white, a bell-shaped crown.

[Assistant] "What is this, Kim?"

[User] "This is the Insulindian Lily." The lieutenant corrects his glasses. "Called 'May bells' or 'Lucille's tears' during the Revolution. Girls used to pin these on soldiers before sending them off to battle."

[Assistant] This flower is a spring flower, but it's a bit early for that, isn't it?

[User] "Who pinned them? Which side?"

[Assistant] "The revolutionaries: so the communards and the anarchists. White's their colour. But the custom started in the Suzerain's army so it held meaning for the kingsmen too."

[User] "It's about girls and boys more than *sides*. Girls sending off boys who are going to their deaths -- then also dying themselves in the ruins, from dysentery and consumption. It's a symbol of the Civil War."

[Assistant] "Is it a coincidence -- it being on the roof?"


[User] The chain trails off into the ocean, connecting the island to the supply depot on the coast.

[Assistant] Lock it from whom?

[User] Enemies.

[Assistant] What for?

[User] The boy stares at the mechanism. "Cool fucking chain."

[Assistant] "Lock it from whom?"


[User] "Okay."

[Assistant] "Tell me about Andre."

[User] "Andre? He's a cool guy. Doesn't really come off as one, but he is. To me at least..."

[Assistant] She rubs her sides, but not from cold. Her shoulders are relaxed. She must have taken a hit or she's on an upswing.

[User] "He takes care of shit. Sorry, I mean he's got a *vision*. Of what life should be, you know? He tries to push things until everything falls into place. He's an organizer."

[Assistant] "Tell me about the others."

[User] "Who do you want to know about?"

[Assistant] "Actually, do tell me about *yourself*."

[User] "Me?"

[Assistant] "Actually, no."


[User] The skiff floats on the calm mirror of the sea -- its two seats are empty.

[Assistant] Once you get in, that's it -- one pull of the starter handle and you're off into the bay. A strange trepidation comes over you: are you sure you want to go *now*?

[User] Have you made all the necessary preparations? Closed all your accounts?

[Assistant] Remember what the Net Picker said: It's a small tank. You won't be going back and forth on this.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["village.idiot_greeting_done"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsTaskActive("TASK.check_back_on_renovation_later")  or  Variable["jam.horseback_monument_reflection_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] "Man, you're like, bleeding now. Reality's really messed you up."

[User] "I found your jacket."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["village.ww_jacket_washed"]) == false]

[User] "Ah, Tequila, I *knew* you'd come through. That's fucking great, man!"

[Assistant] (Give him the jacket.)

[User] "Let me see. What? This isn't my jacket. My jacket was beautiful. This is fucking filthy! What am I supposed to do with this?"

[Assistant] "Look, I just stumbled upon *another* dead body. I don't care about the jacket."

[User] "I'm not taking a disgusting pile of hobo rags. I may be in an irrecoverably decaying orbit, but I've still got standards..."

[Assistant] "Either bring it back the way it was before, or find a dumpster to burn it in." He hands it to you.


[User] "Ah, yes -- back to the *low-down*."

[Assistant] "That's all for now." (Conclude for now.)

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["pier.joyce_amnesia_known"]) == false]

[Assistant] "Glad to have been of assistance -- the little that I know. Anything else I can do?"

[User] "What can you tell me about this strike?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["pier.joyce_strike_hub_reached"]) == false]

[User] "Everything." She smiles. "Right up to -- but not including -- *trade secrets*."

[Assistant] "What is your role in this, precisely?"

[User] "I believe the official title is Senior Labour Negotiator. In practice I'm a grocery clerk. I relay the Union's demands to Wild Pines, and return with Wild Pines' counter-offer..."

[Assistant] No way. She's more. She can make decisions.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[Assistant] "How are these talks going?"


[User] "Great! You wanna bounce something off your old friend, Mr. Claire, right?" He seems genuinely pleased. "Well, let's hear it, Harry!"

[Assistant] "Are you sure? I find it a little odd."

[User] "I'm just a nice guy, Harry. I wouldn't be where I am now if I wasn't nice." He slams his fist into his hand. "Politics is all about *emotions*, and I want you to have positive emotions when you think of me."

[Assistant] Okay then. Positive emotions it is! You like positive emotions.

[User] "Joyce said the previous Union leader vanished under suspicious circumstances."

[Assistant] "*Vanished*?! Harry, the woman left her casserole in the oven and couldn't make it here in time for the voting."

[User] "'Oh, did I leave my casserole on? Better go home and check. The election can wait!'" The man frowns, disapprovingly. "When she got back the whole thing was over."

[Assistant] Wait... there was no mention of a casserole from Joyce.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.smoker_main_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.smoker_commented_on_clothing"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckEquipped("hat_samaran")) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckEquipped("jacket_kimono_robe")) == false]

[User] "Hi again, gendarme."

[Assistant] What is it about the way he carries himself?

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.smoker_whitecheck_composure"]]

[Assistant] Could he be... a member of the *homo-sexual underground*?

[User] Yes, this man is definitely one of the homos, I've seen them homos with my own eyes.

[Assistant] This *sexual* thing seems interesting... Ask around, become involved.


[User] "I just found a *bullet* -- in the hanged man's head."

[Assistant] "A bullet, you say?" He pats the back of his head. "That's mighty curious."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[Assistant] "Indeed. *Mighty*. How did it get there?" The lieutenant is fixed on Titus.

[User] He gives you an indulgent look. "Well there are so many bullets in the world and so many heads..."

[Assistant] He sighs deeply. "I guess it's only  logical -- at some point one of them bullets had to end up in one of them heads..."

[User] "It's bound to happen again, you know." He taps on his right temple. "Just statistically speaking, of course."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: CheckItem("fractured_bullet")]

[User] Sire, it would be an event most dramatic if you were to produce the bullet and dangle it before their very eyes!

[Assistant] "Don't worry, I will figure this out sooner or later." (Conclude.)

[User] "Never been worried in my life, lawman." He crosses his hairy arms, having forgotten his beer for a moment.

[Assistant] It's not like you blew it *wide* open, but there's a little crack in there, somewhere...


[User] The edges of the pages are worn and smudged. A lot of people have read about the Devil Woman's altercations with the Hjelmdall Man.

[Assistant] Time to flip through the book.

[User] You open the book to a random page. Man from Hjelmdall, wielding his two zweihänders, is carving through a sea of savages, his visage fixed in grim determination.

[Assistant] His arms, whirling like windmills, are soaked with the blood of his enemies. Mangled corpses litter the battlefield.

[User] It calls out to you. This is the spirit of Revachol.

[Assistant] Oh shit, gritty and heroic.

[User] Berserker rage burns in his azure-hued eyes as he brings glory and honour to his long lost Hjelmdaller tribe from the village of Hjelmdall. The ivory giant roars like an ice bear, and the winds of Katla howl out his name.

[Assistant] Gimme more!

[User] Man from Hjelmdall rides on a gilded gryffin, his golden mane billowing in the breeze. Both zweihänders sheathed on his back, he is off to war. Will he conquer his enemies? Will he conquer himself?

[Assistant] Onward!

[User] The steel muscles of Man from Hjelmdall gleam in the humid jungle air, yet the man does not sweat. In meditation his soul drifts in the frigid Northlands he calls home.

[Assistant] "Holy shit, this is so *me*!" (Really get into the book.)

[User] A passage reads: "The Man from Hjelmdall looks up, his eyes blue as the mountain lakes of his homeland. He rarely speaks, but now his voice booms in the darkened throne room: 'Do not try to sap my masculine essence, wicked temptress! Son of Hjelmdall will never succumb to your seductive wiles'."

[Assistant] "'Thine spells are no match for purity and strength of will. Brothers of Hjelmdall stand above the vices of flesh for it is weak and corruptible, yet mine is forged in gore and strife.' Queen Lydiaana just laughs, a sultry and salacious sound, then says..."


[User] Is that an Insulindian phasmid? It looks like an Insulindian phasmid. Quick -- catch it before it scuttles away!

[Assistant] Creep up to the phasmid quietly.

[User] You're a master of stealth. But look what you've caught -- not a phasmid, but a fishing rod!

[Assistant] "What are you trying to accomplish, Harry?"

[User] "Uh, it's a novel fishing method."

[Assistant] "Perhaps we should try it out in the wild sometime."


[User] "About my bill..."

[Assistant] "Got the 20 reál?"

[User] "I don't have any money. I spent all I had on other things. I had the urge to buy things. With *all* of the money!"

[Assistant] He stares at you in disbelief. "Sure. That's it then. You're not getting into the room. Sort your shit out elsewhere."

[User] "But I don't have anywhere to go..."

[Assistant] "Yeah... that's not my problem anymore."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsTHCPresent("hobocop")) == false]

[Assistant] "Here's your trash container key."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.garte_trash_bed_offer_made"] == true]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: DayCount() == 2]

[User] He stares at the key before him on the counter, then up at you.

[Assistant] He looks pale. Nauseous. He's guilty. But not enough to apologize...


[User] "It looks like someone was in a real hurry."

[Assistant] "What kind of car do you think it was?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.samaran_vis_calc_vehicle"]]

[Assistant] "I think it was a Coupris 40."

[User] He seems impressed. "That's quite likely, from what I can tell."

[Assistant] "Yeah, I have no idea. Who could it have been?"

[User] The lieutenant shrugs. "We're not traffic cops. Should we get back to the murder?"

[Assistant] "No, we need to find this Jacob Irw before tragedy strikes." (Take the task.)

[User] He sighs. "If we must."

[Assistant] I'm not expecting him to get far with this, the lieutenant consoles himself.


[User] He eyes you sceptically. "All right -- what cryptids, precisely? I usually discuss these things with *specialists*, so I don't know what..."

[Assistant] *...we would have to discuss?* he wants to say, but decides against it.

[User] You need to ask him about specific cryptids -- cryptids you've heard about from Lena, or his friend Gary. He won't *just* talk.

[Assistant] "Your friend Gary told me about the burning rhino."

[User] "Did he?" He lowers his voice. "That one's a hoax. Some Seraise rice farmers set fire to rhinoceros cadavers and used them scare tourists."

[Assistant] Gary obliviously stares at the stage -- safe in the knowledge the burning rhinoceros exists.

[User] "What if you're wrong? What if it's real?" (Conclude.)

[Assistant] "I doubt that. Once confirmed a hoax, so-called sightings of the rhino stopped." A cough. "Was there anything else, or..."


[User] The scruffy-haired little boy kicks a stone while the other watches him do it.

[Assistant] "Kids, have you seen any bad people around?"

[User] "What bad people?" One of the twins looks up, his mouth slightly open.

[Assistant] "Bad people. Criminals. Dangerous women."

[User] "No, we're not really supposed to talk to strangers, you know." The other twin shakes his head.

[Assistant] "Bye kids, take care." [Leave.]


[User] An iron safety curtain curves before your eyes, folded like a bellows. It covers half the room -- blocking the way into a colossal industrial chimney.

[Assistant] This is directly above the central furnace in the cellar. The voices probably came from here.

[User] Knock on it.

[Assistant] What an odd thing to do.... Nothing happens.

[User] "Hello? I yelled, but it didn't work..."

[Assistant] Again your voice becomes a raspy croak, mid-sentence. It's silent in the abandoned office building -- no one answers you.

[User] A sudden bout of self pity comes over you.

[Assistant] Sire, may we suggest something? Think of the yelling-into-the-furnace as a *grand performance*. Use your chest voice, not your head voice. Sing from the diaphragm.


[User] "So, *who* killed the merc then? Any leads?"

[Assistant] "Not yet. Just some ideas. She says the shot came from outside, behind the window somewhere. So that's a clue."

[User] "Got it. Tell me something else."

[Assistant] "Yeah, sure. You don't need my clues. You're doing a great job on your own." He shakes his head.

[User] (Whisper) "Kim, we did it."

[Assistant] The lieutenant gives a smile only you can see.

[User] "Whose idea was it to hang him anyway -- hers?"

[Assistant] "In a manner of speaking."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.hardies_reaction_speed_another_girl_picked_up"]) == false]

[Assistant] "What do you mean?"

[User] "We had... help. From another girl. It was her idea to hang him -- and I liked it, for political reasons. It sent a good message."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["XP.glen_says_he_thinks_she_could_be_a_new_hardie"] == true) == false]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.replaced_viscal_success_read"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.replaced_viscal_read_before_tribunal"]  and  Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckItem("map_of_martinaise")) == false]

[Assistant] The same two neon lit shapes -- a man and a woman. A ray of backward motion explodes from the man's mouth, through the window, to the roof outside, widening into a radius -- A prime.

[User] I have the map -- extrapolate the radius to include all of Martinaise.

[Assistant] According to your map of the district, this shot could have come from a wide angle of locations -- starting with the northern edge of the abandoned boardwalk, ending with an islet in the bay. Let's call them B prime.

[User] More precisely?

[Assistant] B' for boardwalk; B'' for Land's End and B''' for the islet, detective. There may be smaller points in between, but those are too fine to zoom in on.

[User] "Kim, do you think the shot could have come from further than the roof? In Martinaise?"

[Assistant] "From where, precisely?"


[User] This industrial gas-powered stove has been used to prepare food for many hungry hostel guests. There are several pots and pans on hand.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["yard.hanged_boots_kim_acid"]) == false]

[Assistant] Getting the corpse residue out of these boots is going to require patience. And also a huge pot full of boiling water, soap, and white vinegar.

[User] Check out the cookware.

[Assistant] A commercial pot draws your attention. It's very large. Gigantic, even. It could be used to make enough stew to feed an entire city. And also to boil a putrid pair of death-boots.

[User] Far away, in the darkness of a makeshift morgue behind Station 41's lazareth, Dr. Nix Gottlieb cuts into the cold, dead feet of a murder victim. The veins are oddly black, he suspects a neurotoxin...

[Assistant] Add water -- and the boots -- to the pot. Bring it all to a *nice* boil.

[User] The soap bubbles over the rim of the pot -- the water slowly comes to a boil.

[Assistant] Wait...

[User] Strips of polymer fabric and human tissue separate from the lining of the boots. They float to the bubbling surface.

[Assistant] Beautiful.


[User] A stone like any other, lying in a whorl of sleet and mud. Maybe there's something under it?

[Assistant] Turn it over.

[User] There's a key beneath it, rusty from the dirt.

[Assistant] "This must be for the front door. Let's see if it works."


[User] Now *this* place seems promising from an ideological angle...

[Assistant] Where am I?

[User] An important place. One of the last bastions of the left in Martinaise. Perhaps here you'll find the man who'll help you get organised?

[Assistant] But you can't just come out and *ask* him. You should make your introduction first. Pay homage. This is a man of *stature*.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]  and  Variable["TASK.check_back_on_renovation_later"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.horseback_monument_scaffolding"]]

[User] An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island. It is surrounded by scaffolding that has been haphazardly erected around it.

[Assistant] Reflect on the re-conceptualization.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.horseback_monument_reflection_done"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["plaza.ultralib_monument_apocalypse"]]

[User] The roundabout is quiet, almost eerily so under the brilliant sunlight. The doom crier in the centre waits to be swallowed by the bright sky, his cardboard omen flapping in the wind like live bait...

[Assistant] What did this king do?

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.monument_white_succeeded"]]

[Assistant] Even by the standards of the Filippian kings, Old Sumptuous Filippe was known for his profligacy.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.report_to_cryptozoologists_1"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["coast.morell_refused_to_restock_trap"]]

[User] "Oh, hello, officer." He covers his mouth, struggling to suppress a coughing fit.

[Assistant] "There, there, dear." She gently touches her husband's arm. "Don't talk too much. And have some more tea."

[User] "How did you become a *cryptozoologist*?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["coast.morell_cryptozoology"]]

[User] "It's truly not that special. What is *cryptozoology* anyway? A derogative. I just like puzzles, like any scientist."

[Assistant] "What kinds of evidence do you use?"

[User] "Everything from forgotten regional lore to newspaper accounts like the one that brought us here to look for the phasmid. I keep a very open mind."

[Assistant] He's interested in things that people believe that scientists don't.


[User] Use your chaincutters to fix the faucet. Stop steam from fogging up the mirror.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.mirror_interfacing_white_check_succeeded"]]

[User] The faucet is quite terribly mangled, but you just might be able to twist its parts into place.

[Assistant] You handle the chaincutters deftly, applying just enough pressure. The faucet regains a recognizable shape. The steam stops.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: HasVolitionDamage()]

[Assistant] Told you that you *needed* those chaincutters. Everything is connected. Everything has a purpose.

[User] The mirror begins to clear slowly without you having to wipe it.

[Assistant] Dig deep into your mind to locate the source of *The Expression*.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.mirror_expression_source_located"]) == false]

[Assistant] Like the rest of you, it comes from a bad place somewhere in the past. That's all you know for now.


[User] Check the pedals.

[Assistant] You wedge yourself under the steering-wheel to get a better look. Seems like the few tools lying around here -- a hammer, a pair of pliers, a rusty wrench -- have been casually thrown there by the disorganized driver.

[User] But one odd detail does catch your eye: A piece of sandpaper has been glued to the throttle.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsTHCPresent("torque_dork")]

[User] This particular lorry is a FALN A-Z 'Tempo', a model infamous for its irritating design mistake: the slippery-smooth throttles.

[Assistant] Sandpaper adds extra grip.

[User] Look around the cabin again.

[Assistant] The movie stars are still smiling from the walls. There's a radio transmitter in the front and a pull-out toolbox tucked under the driver's seat. Some tools lie scattered near the pedals.

[User] Remove the radio transceiver.

[Assistant] It takes a few moments, but eventually the transceiver slides from its greased socket mount with an eminently satisfying *chhhnk*.

[User] Nearly the same sound produced by the action on a good breechloader, you can't fail to notice.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.roy_intro_done"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["canal.roy_altgreet_tribunal"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["canal.roy_pilehub_reached"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["plaza.tribunal_shoulder_wound_suffered"]) == false]

[Assistant] "I see you were wounded in the recent... altercation." He nods gravely at your leg. "A speedy recovery to you, officer."

[User] "Now, what can I do for you?"

[Assistant] "I'm back for the transceiver. Is it still available?"

[User] "For the moment, yes."

[Assistant] "I'm gonna shop around a bit. I might be back later."


[User] By the way, where *is* home? The address is coming up blank and this place sure isn't it...

[Assistant] I have no idea.

[User] But you've been at this hostel-cafeteria for only three nights. Where were you before? You had to be somewhere.

[Assistant] I don't know... near? South maybe.

[User] You don't really know, do you?

[Assistant] I don't. Does this mean I'm homeless?

[User] "South maybe" doesn't sound like somewhere you can stay if you run out of money.

[Assistant] I'll live in a dumpster, I don't care. Fuck everything. Hobocop.


[User] Thoughts, baby. A million little lights in the dark. You're one fine instrument, brother -- all those faces and all those names, all that laughter and screaming and scheming around... Every corner and every street...

[Assistant] Recorded in you. Forever. On ferrotape.

[User] Spinning, spinning... tell me, am I dreaming?

[Assistant] No. You're spinning tapes at the discotheque. The great, unceasing disco of the mind. The flash! The bang! The endless *learning* experience.

[User] Spinning on empty.

[Assistant] On and on it goes, for untold hours. At the disco where you first asked her to dance. Rising -- rising! -- above the dark curvature. The great wingspan of sleep, studded with stars.

[User] Behold, there are *millions* of them down there. The first time. The last time. The smoke in her mouth, the potted flowers, the faces: turning, changing.

[Assistant] *What* is it?

[User] It's the *world*, Harry-boy. And you're *made* of it. Every day you're out there you make more of yourself from it. I'm afraid you can't be *unmade* now.

[Assistant] You can never forget this shit.

[User] The rain, the snow... I don't want to. It's beautiful.

[Assistant] Beautiful? It's *stuck* on loop... whirling, spitting out words and images.

[User] You're the son of the World again. Harrister -- a ceaseless agent picking up litter and old newspapers, collecting your little bubble gum wrappers and idiotic picture post cards. Meaningless, meaningless keepsakes.

[Assistant] Reading your awful letters and *recalling* things, aren't you? The endless names of the world... An address book, you are. The map of a city.

[User] That's right. I *am* an agent of the world.

[Assistant] You'll go insane if you keep going like this. One more day and you'll be in the loonie bin. I just know you will. And for what, brother-man?


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.report_to_cryptozoologists_1"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["coast.morell_refused_to_restock_trap"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["coast.morell_white_check_succeeded"]]

[Assistant] "Hello, officer! I think I almost have it! A new trap design, that is! I know you're sceptical, but I have a good feeling about this."

[User] Develop an alternative theory about the missing locusts.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["coast.morell_white_check_succeeded"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["yard.shack_saw_the_locust_city"]) == false]

[Assistant] Consider the way the empty trap was disturbed, as though *shaken*. Most likely the hands of a young person -- hands small enough to fit inside the trap too.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["yard.cuno_greeting_done"]]

[Assistant] You should ask the redheaded boy. Cuno.


[User] The front of this quarterly journal features a large, satirical portrait of the late King Frissel. From the sides of his head, a pair of white antlers spread to the corners of the cover.

[Assistant] Why Frissel?

[User] Because Frissel was incompetent, foolish, and cruel. In short, the embodiment of everything the communards wished to overthrow. It's *satire*, you see.

[Assistant] Flip through the pages, see what catches your eye.

[User] To your disappointment, there aren't any full-colour pictures to direct your attention, just column after column of closely set text, interrupted occasionally by little doodles in black and white...

[Assistant] No advertisements, you notice. So who's funding this *radical commentary*?

[User] After riffling the pages with your thumb several times, you return to the table of contents...

[Assistant] The magazine is divided into several sections: 'International Developments', 'Kunst und Kultur', and 'Local Concerns'. Just inside the cover there's also an editor's note.

[User] What is 'Kunst und Kultur'?

[Assistant] It takes a moment, but gradually it dawns on you that 'Kunst und Kultur' must mean 'Arts and Culture'...


[User] He eyes you sceptically. "All right -- what cryptids, precisely? I usually discuss these things with *specialists*, so I don't know what..."

[Assistant] *...we would have to discuss?* he wants to say, but decides against it since you've offered to help.

[User] "Just tell me about a cool cryptid. Any cryptid."

[Assistant] "No offence, officer, but I'm not much of a *pedagogue* -- I don't know what I would've done if Lena hadn't persuaded me to go back to field research. You should ask her, if you want interesting stories."

[User] "Me -- I'm not a people person, unless you haven't noticed. And I don't make a good lecturer. My strength lies in field work and *persistence*." He brushes an errant strand of hair from his eye.

[Assistant] This is a gruff man who's been ridiculed too many times to feel comfortable talking about what's dearest to his heart. It's in his shoulders, his face, his... everything.

[User] "Just tell me about a cool cryptid. Any cryptid."

[Assistant] "No offence, officer, but I'm not much of a *pedagogue* -- I don't know what I would've done if Lena hadn't persuaded me to go back to field research. You should ask her, if you want interesting stories."

[User] "Me -- I'm not a people person, unless you haven't noticed. And I don't make a good lecturer. My strength lies in field work and *persistence*." He brushes an errant strand of hair from his eye.

[Assistant] This is a gruff man who's been ridiculed too many times to feel comfortable talking about what's dearest to his heart. It's in his shoulders, his face, his... everything.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["jam.paledriver_greeting_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.paledriver_quick_intro"]]

[User] The woman still has her eyes fixed on the photograph in her hands. In the background, the radio plays.

[Assistant] Snap your fingers in front of her face.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.probe_drivers_about_drugs"]) == false]

[User] "Wait..." The lieutenant stops you before you can snap.

[Assistant] "She's just a distracted old woman. Better to leave her alone."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsTaskActive("TASK.ask_paledriver_how_to_turn_back_time")--[[ Variable[ ]]]

[Assistant] "But Measurehead said she knows the secret to turning back time."

[User] The lieutenant considers the slumped form for a moment. He sighs.

[Assistant] "I don't understand why you're so set on what seems like a... *personal side-task*, but if you must, then let's get it over with..."


[User] This is it -- the scene of the party. The fire pit, cigarettes, and empty bottles all evidence it.

[Assistant] Yeah. Sure does look like a lot of folks partied here.

[User] Looks like they were here a while, judging from all the bottles. The sunken motor carriage provided them a focal point -- like a goose ice-sculpture or a chocolate fountain.

[Assistant] "Hey, Kim. Looks like we've had a couple of party-goers here."

[User] "Looks like it."

[Assistant] "This was some kind of theatre to them. A circus production by a great clown."

[User] "Hey -- let's keep moving, detective." The lieutenant adjusts his glasses.

[Assistant] Somehow he doesn't want to dwell on it...


[User] This passport, issued by the Sovereign Republic of Oranje -- is issued to a black haired woman called Katarzine Alasije.

[Assistant] "Klaasje's hidden documents..." The lieutenant looks at it in your hands. "That she said would be in a buoy on the coast."

[User] Look at the photo.

[Assistant] It's Klaasje. With short, black hair and glasses. She looks boyish, younger somehow.

[User] An old photo. Before life came and did what it does.

[Assistant] Look at the photo.

[User] It's Klaasje. With short, black hair and glasses. She looks boyish, younger somehow.

[Assistant] An old photo. Before life came and did what it does.


[User] "Whatever I can help you with. We need to contain the situation."

[Assistant] "How much time do we have?"

[User] "Until the executions start? Truthfully -- I don't know. It depends on their progress identifying the members of the lynch mob. And their impatience."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] "They don't report their progress to you?"

[Assistant] "Not on this matter. I'm afraid they consider this a personal initiative." There is a brief silence. Seagulls squawk over the bay...

[User] Five days. Not more. Maybe sooner.

[Assistant] "It's a matter of days, not weeks."

[User] "Where are the remaining two mercs now?"

[Assistant] "They've gone to ground, as it were. I don't recommend seeking them out." She puts her foot on the guardwire, for balance. "For one -- they're almost certainly armed to the teeth."

[User] "They don't have the same respect for the Revachol Citizens Militia as I do. To put it bluntly they think you're vigilantes, *ghetto savages*. It will not be a fruitful meeting."

[Assistant] Vigilantes? You're a professional officer of the only *legitimate* authority in Revachol.

[User] You should show those meatheads exactly how *savage* you really are.

[Assistant] "Okay, I'll steer clear for the moment."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsTHCPresent("radical_feminist_agenda")) == false]

[Assistant] It's all very organic -- her mannerisms, her movements. If she's acting, she's quite gifted.

[User] By *they* she means the Hardie boys.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.klaasje_rfa_rhetoric_questions_rapeable"]) == false]

[Assistant] "Are you saying that you were *asked* to tell us you were assaulted?"

[User] "Not explicitly, but I understood what they meant. It wouldn't hurt to spice things up a bit -- some assault and battery, *sexual* assault maybe. It was clear the latter would be *spicier*."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsTHCPresent("radical_feminist_agenda")]


[User] "Petty-bourgeois law..." He snorts and spits. "This is all you care about, right? The only thing in the world for you types..."

[Assistant] A drop of blood in the saliva...

[User] Tear into him again. Pile it on him.

[Assistant] Lie! You have a witness.

[User] C'mon, what am I forgetting? (Hit yourself on the side of your head.)

[Assistant] Wait, here it comes -- the god damn May bells, the dried may bells on Klaasje's roof!


[User] "Hello, this is the police calling. I have some questions for you about your last days at work."

[Assistant] "Oh, right..." She recognizes your voice almost immediately. "Hello, officer, what can I do for you?"

[User] You can hear resentment in her tone -- she's not thrilled to be talking to you again.

[Assistant] There is *no* resentment in her tone. She wants you to ask her out. No question about it.

[User] "Do you know who put the victim's clothes in the trash?"

[Assistant] "No, I don't know. It wasn't me..." She gulps. "I haven't been out there since... I was terrified of the stench and the corpse." She falls silent.

[User] "I must have had some sort of official police documents on me. Do you know where they could be?"

[Assistant] "I, ugh... the ones I had to wrench out of your toilet?"

[User] "What happened to them?"

[Assistant] "I... dammit, I don't remember what I did to your damn papers! I don't remember every little thing I do..." Resentment gives way to concern in her voice.

[User] She's worried she might have accidentally done something bad. Then she remembers it's *you*.

[Assistant] "Especially when there's a hurricane loose. It's your fault for losing them -- not mine."


[User] The movie stars are still smiling from the walls. There's a radio transmitter in the front and a pull-out toolbox tucked under the driver's seat. Some tools lie scattered near the pedals.

[Assistant] Admire the posters.

[User] These are movie posters featuring starlets from long-forgotten films -- from the Twenties, the Teens, even the Nineties of the last century.

[Assistant] One of them particularly catches your eye: a centrefold of an ingénue attached right above the back seat.

[User] There's definitely perfume in the air. It's spicy, with a hint of ambrette, wafting through the bitter air of the cabin.

[Assistant] Stop and wonder: What's that smell?

[User] The remnants of a sweet juniper-scented perfume. Probably 'Granate No 5'.

[Assistant] Enough of the posters.

[User] The actresses -- and the rare actor -- all smile you a warm good bye. A radio transmitter is attached to the dashboard and a toolbox sits under the driver's seat.

[Assistant] Check the pedals.

[User] You wedge yourself under the steering-wheel to get a better look. Seems like the few tools lying around here -- a hammer, a pair of pliers, a rusty wrench -- have been casually thrown there by the disorganized driver.

[Assistant] But one odd detail does catch your eye: A piece of sandpaper has been glued to the throttle.


[User] "I'm trying to turn back time. Can you help me, bröther?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["jam.truckman_told_him_to_fuck_off"]]

[Assistant] "Let's get one thing straight: You can't tell a man to 'fuck off' and then say he's your brother. It doesn't work like that..."

[User] Listen, despite his hostile exterior, this one's got a soft underbelly. He's desperate for affirmation...

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["plaza.lorryman_fascha_composure_begging_for_praise"]]

[User] Massage his ego, feed him a few grapes, make him *like* you.

[Assistant] DON'T FORGET TO TICKLE THE BEANBAG!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["XP.remember_the_beanbag"]]

[Assistant] Okay, but don't *literally* say that.

[User] "Now what makes you think I know how to 'turn back time'?"

[Assistant] "My gut tells me you're just the guy I'm looking for."


[User] "Maybe it's all part of a leadership challenge? Against you, Titus."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.hardies_said_the_cover_up_thing_in_logic_wc"]  or  Variable["whirling.hardies_ruby_gay_branch_passed"]]

[User] "There's no fucking leadership challenge." A flash of rage; he calms himself. "Just when I thought you were taking this seriously, cop, you put your head in your ass."

[Assistant] "Man, now he's just throwing shit against the wall to see what sticks."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[Assistant] "A little thing -- Ruby had these posters in her truck. Old movie stars."

[User] Titus's gaze meets yours: "Yeah, so...?"

[Assistant] "Nothing. They where just there."

[User] "Don't take me wrong, I love to stare at broads on posters, but we're talking about a *murder* here."

[Assistant] "A little thing -- Ruby had these posters in her truck. Old movie stars."

[User] Titus's gaze meets yours: "Yeah, so...?"

[Assistant] "The people on the posters -- were all women. One looked exactly like Klaasje."


[User] The door is closed.

[Assistant] Knock again.

[User] Still no answer.

[Assistant] Try the handle.

[User] This door can only be opened with a key or from the inside.

[Assistant] As you hold the metal you sense the warmth left there by her hand.


[User] It's easier, this time, drifting off. Your head has found a comfortable indent in the pillow. Your legs and your torso feel like lead weights sinking to the bottom of the sea, until they're suddenly light...

[Assistant] Sing along -- in silent communion.

[User] Blackness, blackness, blackness. The ultimate disco. The ruins of your life behind you, still smouldering. Ashes rise. But you're not looking.

[Assistant] For now -- a little while -- you can...

[User] (Sleep. Without words or images.)

[Assistant] When the pictograms and the hieroglyphs of the world return, they seem silent somehow. The alarm rings quietly too. You're ready.

[User] Ready -- but something is coming. It always is.

[Assistant] [Open your eyes.]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["village.abigail_drunk_alt_greet"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["village.abigail_greeting_done"]]

[User] "Don't call Abigail." The drunk man looks at you with his sad, swollen eyes.

[Assistant] "Tell me about your friends." (Point to the others.)

[User] He glares at you. "Don't ya fuckin' call her, hear me." His voice trembles with every word, becoming ever weaker. "Abigail," he whimpers in the end.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["village.abigail_drunk_counter"] >= 5) == false]

[User] "Where am I? What is this place?"

[Assistant] The man hiccups, then mumbles something unintelligible.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["village.abigail_drunk_counter"] >= 5]

[Assistant] "Don'... don'..." the man stammers, "don't call..." Slowly, his head nods off to the side and he passes out, tongue dangling from his mouth.


[User] "René... I need to go back in time. Can you help me?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] The lieutenant flashes you a quick side-glance.

[Assistant] His posture tenses.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["plaza.fascha_dq_asked_someone_the_q"]]

[Assistant] Damn it, not this again...

[User] "What?!" The old soldier scowls at you, unamused.

[Assistant] He thinks you're playing a joke on him.

[User] "Now, now..." His partner raises both hands in a calming gesture. "I'm sure the officer means it figuratively. Like a forensic technique or something, right?"

[Assistant] "Right, right... A forensic technique. Can you help me or not?"

[User] "Forensic techniques are your forte, not mine, officer." Something stiffens in the man. He shakes his head. "Find another fool, I will not be part of your... joke."

[Assistant] "No, I literally need to go back in time. For Revachol."

[User] "*Bon sang*, son. You must have a loose screw up there or something." He taps on his temple. "Sounds like you really mean it."

[Assistant] "Alright, I will entertain this... *fantasy*, if you tell me, what interest does an RCM officer have in... 'time travel'?"


[User] As you hold it in your hands, it makes an uncomfortable crunching sound...

[Assistant] Man, how did this jacket get so disgusting?

[User] It's a sordid, filthy tale, not for the weak. Are you sure you can stomach it?

[Assistant] Some secrets are better left uncovered. Don't even try, seriously.

[User] Think about it.

[Assistant] It occurs to you that you're not even *holding* the jacket itself, but rather the thick crust of jetsam and seagull shit that ensconces it.

[User] It smells like a dead sea creature, tangled in grey strands of seaweed. It must have spent quite some time in the water before the tide deposited it ashore...

[Assistant] Gross.

[User] Why, why did you think about it? Look at your hands -- They're covered in muck!

[Assistant] Maybe if I wipe my hands on my pants?


[User] Hey, money-mouth. Eendracht. The impeccable hustler-provider of the seventh generation. It's showtime with Savvy!

[Assistant] Eendracht? The hustler-provider? The *seventh* generation?!

[User] Yeah, swindle-father. Papa-preneur. Look, this is serious. No time for distractions. It's time to make *money*. Lots of it.

[Assistant] Money?!

[User] That's right! It's time to stop muttering about your 'economic self-interest' and actually do something about it. Yeah, I heard you back there. What the hell was that?!

[Assistant] What do you expect? I'm an ultraliberal. I speak ultraliberal-ese.

[User] Good, good, gotta spread the gospel. But talk alone doesn't bring in the cash. It's time for step two.

[Assistant] Listen, if you really want to make it in the big leagues, you need to *re-conceptualize* your entire portfolio. Collecting tare and moaning about taxes is not going to cut it.

[User] You need to become a MILLIONAIRE. Now, how do you become a MILLIONAIRE?

[Assistant] Mañana flicked me a coin.

[User] *One* coin. The first of many. Imagine so many coins you're going to need to hire someone to help you manage all your wealth.

[Assistant] I could sell Kim's motorcar, like I sold his spinners?


[User] Give up. You'll never find the answer. There's no other copy of "Dick Mullen and the Mistaken Identity" here.

[Assistant] There's got to be a way to solve this.

[User] There isn't. If only you had more time... more resources... who knows what you could have come up with?

[Assistant] Maybe if there had been more money... and less speed...

[User] Or *MORE* speed!

[Assistant] Hang on, you can do this. *Use your imagination*. You know who the suspects are, just... make it up.

[User] So, who killed Charlie Spillane and Deanna Deneuve, detective? Just fucking pick one.

[Assistant] Fuck you, book! It *was* Dick Mullen.

[User] It still doesn't make sense, but who cares? Yes, Dick Mullen, the famous detective, killed his best friend and a dame he just nailed in cold blood. But why'd he do it? Unclear!

[Assistant] Doesn't matter. The choice has been made. You caught the criminal -- It was Dick Mullen all along. Who's the real detective now? That's right, it's you. Rest easy tonight, *real detective*.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.viquemare_esprit_wc_firefighters"]]

[Assistant] You *know* what it is. It's like the two of you know each other. Just ask him.

[User] "Tell me the truth, do you know me from somewhere?"

[Assistant] "Oh, I definitely know you from *somewhere*."

[User] Another life...

[Assistant] "From where? From another life?"

[User] "Yes. From another life. A different life. Maybe the life of a police officer belonging to the ranks of the..." He pauses.

[Assistant] "To what station do you think you would belong in this alternate and totally fictional reality?"

[User] "Fifty-seventh?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[User] "Good job, that was very close." He now speaks with the tone of a mother helping her kid take first steps. "Maybe try again?"

[Assistant] "99,999,999.9th?"

[User] "That's..." The man looks extremely surprised. "...exactly right! Down to a fraction."

[Assistant] "No need for the sarcasm."


[User] The dented yellow mailbox greets you with it's graffito, bullet holes and an RCM sticker.

[Assistant] Drop the white envelope into the mailbox.

[User] But the documents inside the envelope still lack the required signatures...

[Assistant] "It's not going to be that easy. We need to dirty our hands with the signatures." He looks around. "I assume that's the goal here."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["seafort.deserter_main_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["seafort.phasmid_has_arrived"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["gates.deserter_post_phasmid_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] The old man stares at the reeds. His face shows no emotion -- only a faint tremor passes over his features, like a leaf in the wind.

[User] "What has happened to this man?"

[Assistant] "Old age and shock." He looks at him, then you.

[User] "Old age and shock, yes."

[Assistant] "The appearance of the phasmid, in conjunction with the stress of the arrest. He's spent his entire life here. For him to leave would be..." He shakes his head.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]  and  Variable["TASK.check_back_on_renovation_later"]]

[Assistant] The scaffolding around the old monument has been taken down. In its place are the spoils of your investment. Numerous rods and ropes still hold the original reassemblage in place.

[User] What indentations? What do I see?

[Assistant] Something with great kinetic energy seems to have impacted the cuirass... around where the 'heart' is. A bullet?

[User] Someone's shot him in the heart. Interesting.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] "Lieutenant -- has someone *shot* the king?" (Point to the indentation)

[Assistant] "Okay..." He cleans his glasses before looking up. "I can't see it. But I'll take your word for it."

[User] "What do you think?"

[Assistant] "Well... Martinaise is riddled with bullet holes. This place saw a lot of action during the Revolution. But the statue *is* recently renovated -- so maybe a joke? Target practice? Or a political statement?"

[User] "None of the above. Maybe it's connected to the murder?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["XP.discover_the_bullet"]  or  Variable["yard.hanged_got_bullet_out"]  or  Variable["whirling.hardie_rhetoric_wc"]) == false]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.klaasje_drama_white_success_volition_activated"]]

[Assistant] Who... what... Dear god, you've been lied to! She could have killed her lover and lied to everyone! She's not *candid* at all, she's smoke and mirrors and will-o-wisps!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.who_was_caller_done"]  and  Variable["tc.klaasje_amandou"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["tc.klaasje_amandou"]) == false]

[User] Look at her! Her hands, her nails, the cigarette... Every second you stall, you become more entangled in this spider's *web of lies*. Arrest her immediately!

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["XP.detect_compromized_skillset"]) == false]

[User] "What if I told you you're under arrest, miss."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.klaasje_chosename_klaasje"]) == false]

[Assistant] "But I haven't *done* anything..." She backs up against the railing -- with a forced smile on her face. "Anything *illegal*."


[User] "The theatrical suicide attempt -- we need to talk about it."

[Assistant] "Do we have to?"

[User] "We do. I was able to re-contextualize it as a dark joke." He pauses thoughtfully. "I will not be able to re-contextualize it the next time."

[Assistant] "I understand you sometimes employ *extreme* interrogation tactics, but I want you to understand: that was *too* extreme."

[User] "We can't have RCM officers going around, putting guns in their mouths. We can't afford to have that image. Few institutions can."

[Assistant] "Understood. 100%. It won't happen again."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.get_yourself_organised_cancelled"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["apt.student_main_hub_reached"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["apt.student_left_pre_main_hub"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckEquipped("jacket_interisolar_white")  and   Variable["apt.student_jacket_discussed"] == false) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckItem("book_nilsenism_introduction")  and  Variable["TASK.get_yourself_organised_done"] == false) == false]

[Assistant] "The gendarme returns." The young man turns to you. "What do you need?"

[User] "Did this reading group have anything to do with the lynching?"

[Assistant] "Lynching? No. We're not an *operational* cell."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["church.ravers_inside_church"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["ice.noid_church_greeting_done"]) == false]

[User] "You got us in, cop. I can't believe you got us in..." He looks around the hall, examining the carpentry.

[Assistant] With wonder in his sharp eyes.

[User] "Between you and me -- I don't know if you've noticed this about me... I'm a little *suspicious* of authority. But you -- you really came through for the hard core underground."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[User] "That's me. A friend and an ally to the hard core underground. Have a moment to talk?"

[Assistant] He nods: "What's on your mind?"

[User] "Now that our sines are synced, can you help me contact the Coalition?"

[Assistant] "You sure that's a good idea? Those are some serious frequencies you want to mess with..."

[User] "Come on, Noid. I think we owe him."

[Assistant] "Acele's right. He's one of us now."


[User] A police badge on which you see the photo of a man -- you. Some seaweed is stuck to the back.

[Assistant] "Precinct: 41?"

[User] The number shows that this badge belongs to an officer of the 41st precinct.

[Assistant] The badge in your hands shines as you rotate it, catching light. You see lines of information on it. And a shining watermark.

[User] "Precinct: 41?"

[Assistant] The number shows that this badge belongs to an officer of the 41st precinct.


[User] You *clearly* see footprints in the downy carpet of dust covering the workshop floor.

[Assistant] "Jackpot." The lieutenant takes out his notebook. "These, unlike everything else here, are *new*."

[User] Crouch, study the footprints.

[Assistant] Large prints, most likely made by boots. The size is hard to determine (sole could be bigger than vamp). The soles have left a pattern -- uniform, horizontal lines.

[User] One person has been here. They've gone back and forth. The tips point both ways.

[Assistant] This print is unlike one left by a regular worker boot. It is not a *brand* sole, with logos on it. It seems custom made or old fashioned.

[User] Shoe size is 41-42, maybe 43. It could be a large-footed woman or a small-to-average-footed man. This is, unfortunately, the worst, most vague shoe size there is.

[Assistant] "This doesn't look like the workers boots from the hanging, does it?"


[User] "I talked to Joyce. The merc you hanged -- his friends are coming for you."

[Assistant] "Yeah?" He doesn't seem worried. "By friends you mean his squadmates from Krenel?"

[User] "Wouldn't wanna beat up his grandma." There's snickering in the room. Some of the men put their beers down.

[Assistant] *Nervous* snickering. There's a rush of adrenaline present.

[User] Titus did his best, but his men are a bit unsettled.

[Assistant] "Forget I mentioned it, it was probably nothing."

[User] "Goddamn right it's nothing. The fuck are they gonna do? We got ten thousand men in the Union."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["cargo.evrart_2372_union_members"]]

[User] Evrart said there were two thousand three hundred and seventy two Union members. But whatever keeps their spirits up.

[Assistant] Convince Titus he is being manipulated.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.hardie_rhetoric_wc"]]

[Assistant] Convince *Titus?* he's being manipulated? You should know by now -- Titus Hardie will never falter.


[User] Nothing comes up -- yet the old man watches you stimulate thoughts by hitting yourself.

[Assistant] You need to punch yourself again!

[User] "May bells -- behind the victim's window! I saw them growing *here*." (Point to them.)

[Assistant] "Damn May bells..." He looks at the blossoming field: "The whole island is turning white with them..."

[User] He seems tender suddenly, nostalgic even. A strange mood swing.

[Assistant] "So many this year too. The spring is coming, no... it's already here. Wash the filth away..."

[User] "I haven't seen these flowers anywhere else in Martinaise. Only here."

[Assistant] "They blossom on the islets before. We fertilized them with our blood." He looks to the water. "Rèsurrection was snow white in May, before they ruined it."

[User] South, the Bay of Martinaise is dotted with little freckles of islets, turning green, with white flowers in white snow...

[Assistant] "The coast too -- before they piled their containers on top of it. Filled with broken, useless trash for fat fingered bourgeois children to play with..."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.alaineugene_bad_greet"]]

[Assistant] The man stares at you with spite in his eyes.

[User] "Any idea what happened to Klaasje?"

[Assistant] "Damn songbird of misery that one..." The man shakes his head.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()) == false]

[Assistant] "And do you have any information on her whereabouts?"

[User] "Nah. Garte said she took off some time before the firefight, that's all. Trying to remember if there was anything... oh, yeah, he said she seemed to be in real hurry."

[Assistant] She's gone. Face it.

[User] Move on. There's no catching her this time around.

[Assistant] "What's gonna happen to the Hardie boys now that Titus is dead?"

[User] "T... Ti... Tit..." The spit flying out of his mouth is accompanied by a painful grimace. "Tit... Titus's fuckin' dead..."

[Assistant] "What's gonna happen to the Hardie boys? Look around you, man. This shit is done. There are no more Hardie boys!"


[User] "I'm listening."

[Assistant] "Would you say that Lely was... a *likeable* person?"

[User] "I didn't like him. Hardened mercenaries aren't particularly likeable types."

[Assistant] "Did you feel... protective of the Union?"

[User] "Yeah, sure, and I didn't like Wild Pines sending in those foreign hirelings -- me and a fuck-ton of other people around here."

[Assistant] I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I don't think she's perjuring herself.

[User] She didn't hate him, okay?

[Assistant] "I have other questions." (Conclude.)

[User] "I'm listening."

[Assistant] "Do you like to... hang out on rooftops?"

[User] "Who doesn't? Oh, you probably mean Klaasje's rooftop. Sure, I've hung out there. She's got this great antenna..."

[Assistant] "Is that the only reason you... hung out on the roof?"


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["pier.joyce_village_intro_done"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsNight()]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["pier.joyce_special_greeting_done_night"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["auto.is_raining"]  and  IsDayFrom(2)]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["pier.joyce_special_greeting_done_rain"]) == false]

[Assistant] "You're back. Good." She looks at the ripples on the water's surface. "What can I help you with -- not an umbrella, I hope. I don't need one myself, you see..." She pats her wet raincoat.

[User] All around you, rain keeps falling down. On the wooden boards she's standing on, and on the water around you...

[Assistant] "No need. Tell me something."

[User] "Of course."

[Assistant] "What can you tell me about this strike?"


[User] "Right, pig, this is where Cuno plays with his little wooden choo-choo. Fuck do you want with it?"

[Assistant] "There was also a mug in the trash." (Show him the mug.)

[User] "The fuck? A *mug* in the trash? Is this about the fucking clothes again?"

[Assistant] "Actually, talking about this makes me uncomfortable. Let's back up a notch."

[User] "Yeah, back out of this shit with Cuno."

[Assistant] "Back out and take your fat ass with you."

[User] "I was wondering about that trash container."

[Assistant] "Don't be wondering about Cuno's shit, pig!"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.open_trash_container"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["yard.trash_inland_something_in_there"]  and  CheckItem("ledger_damaged") == false  and  CheckItem("ledger_of_failure_and_hatred") == false  and  CheckItem("ledger_oblivion") == false]

[User] "Okay, enough about this, Cuno. I've got other matters to address."

[Assistant] "Of course you do, fuckface."


[User] Points are good. Have one, you old dog! Before we all die...

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.klaasje_kim_sports"]  and  Variable["whirling.klaasje_saw_sports_branch_in_race"] == false]

[User] Better not to mention it...

[Assistant] The young woman looks at you, then the lieutenant, then you.

[User] She's clearly sensing something. A spike in testosterone levels, perhaps.

[Assistant] "Where is Lelystad? The place, I mean."

[User] "In Oranje, officer. It's a... I think *municipality* is the term? A nowhere-town there."

[Assistant] The Lelystad municipality has few boroughs and even fewer cities -- it's made of agricultural plots near the border of Gottwald. Executive summary: cows, silos, and wheat.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.ask_about_tattoo_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.klaasje_kim_changed_victims_ethnicity"]  or  Variable["XP.determine_victims_ethnicity"]]

[User] "This means his race was Occidental, which fits the statements of another witness," the lieutenant says, pleased.

[Assistant] (Look at the autopsy paper.) "Moving on..."


[User] Take the speed. Take that glorious stuff. You have it now. You've got it! TAKE IT!

[Assistant] No. Not right now, anyway. [Discard thought.]

[User] Come on. Come on! A little! Just a little bit! Whaddya say, huh?

[Assistant] Maybe just a little...


[User] Just as you look at the flowers, a gust of wind raises them from the roof, picking them up in the air...

[Assistant] Move your hand, fast!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.klaasje_flower_red_check_grab"] == true]

[Assistant] You catch a single white flower between your fingers. The rest fly off into the wind. It's a may bell!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.arrest_klaasje_done"]  or  Variable["TASK.report_to_the_tribunal_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] The young woman looks at the may bell in your hand -- just a glance -- then takes a drag of her cigarette.


[User] "Oh, that's very nice. I haven't gotten around to her yet -- I'm very, very busy, you see." He adjusts a button on his sleeve. "I hope you're getting along."

[Assistant] "One thing I wanna make very clear, Harry, is that this is not some kind of Union *versus* Corporation situation. Everyone is just pals here."

[User] "Just pals?"

[Assistant] "We're all trying to do what's best for Martinaise." His smile widens. "Don't feel like you can't cooperate with her, because you and I are such good friends and I'm helping you find your lost gun. I'm not a jealous guy."

[User] Whoa... that's so nice of him. Suspiciously nice.

[Assistant] "Why haven't you let her in to see you?"


[User] Now! Now you will *finally* get to know who you are!

[Assistant] "Wait. I have a *few* questions before we go. About who I am."

[User] The man looks westward, impatiently.

[Assistant] Jingling his car keys in his pocket.

[User] "The phasmid -- I need to tell Lena about this ASAP."

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["TASK.return_to_mainland_done"]) == false]

[User] "Well, you can do that in all the spare time you're going to have."

[Assistant] "Jean..." She stops.

[User] "She's a cryptozoologist. She told me about this phasmid..."

[Assistant] She listens to you sadly. The wind blows.

[User] "Who *am* I?"

[Assistant] "Who *are* you? You're a gym teacher, Harry."

[User] "What?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.return_to_mainland_done"]]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["boardwalk.drainage_hub_reached"]) == false]

[Assistant] An old pipe peeks out from beneath the rotting boards of the boardwalk. Could this be an alternative path into the Feld building?

[User] A building like this must have multiple doors serving various functions. Perhaps a basement access?

[Assistant] Come closer and look in.

[User] Your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness inside the drainage pipe.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: IsKimHere()]

[User] The lieutenant looks over your shoulder.

[Assistant] Try to pull the door apart.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.drainage_wc"]]

[Assistant] The metal doors are heavy, and very awkward to open on your own, but you just manage to slide them open wide enough for you to slide yourself between them...

[User] "Good work." The lieutenant nods toward the impenetrable darkness inside. "Shall we?"

[Assistant] [Go in.]


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.ladder_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] The rusty ladder leads to the rooftop.

[User] Teleport to the roof.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.feld_ladder_savoir_wc"]]

[User] All you need to do is close your eyes and concentrate. Darkness *enfolds* you. You can *feel* the distance between the bench and the first rung of the ladder. All you need to is...

[Assistant] Do it.

[User] *ZOOT*! *ZAP*! *POW*! *CRINKLE*! It's like magic, you feel yourself disappear, your atoms fading out of existence...

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsHourBetween(8,19)) == false]

[User] "Okay, well. That's impressive, but..."

[Assistant] *BAM*! You find yourself on the roof... having mastered the art of physical displacement.

[User] "I did it, Kim! I teleported!"

[Assistant] "I just *saw* you climb the ladder," the lieutenant shouts from below. "You just climbed it, like a regular person."


[User] "A fantastic change of heart, Harry!" He rubs his nose. "Go talk to Mañana down by the gates. He'll brief you and give you the key."

[Assistant] And just like that, it's happening -- the roller coaster is moving. Too late to take it back now.

[User] "Just open *one little door*. You don't need to go in or anything. I just want that weasel to come home and see the unlocked door. That's it. Anything else we should discuss?"

[Assistant] "Do you know there's a mega rich light-bending guy inside one of the containers outside?"

[User] "Mega rich light-bending guy? Oh my god! How did that get in there?"

[Assistant] "He's so rich he could get in anywhere."

[User] "Damn it to hell, Harry!" He slams his fist on the table. "I specifically told my guys to check all the containers for mega rich light-bending guys."

[Assistant] "You know, some of him *may* have been a figment of my imagination."

[User] "Honestly, Harry, we might be moving a spot of drugs through this harbour, but I won't be caught transporting the light-bending mega-rich." He shakes his head. "I have a reputation to protect."

[Assistant] "Yes, the transportation of the mega rich should be more tightly regulated. Didn't seem like he was safe."

[User] "You're a fucking idiot, Harry. I love it! Thank you for sharing this deep, idiotic part of yourself with me. A hallucinating market liberal. I love it. So poetic."

[Assistant] He bursts out laughing. "I shudder to think what you're going to tell me next, Harry."


[User] Okay, the man with the sunglasses and his *hypothetical Station 41*. Weird, right?

[Assistant] I guess it was kind of weird, yes.

[User] There's something we're missing here... something you can't put our finger on. You know what -- just ask him. I know it sounds crazy (and you'll probably get laughed at). But still...

[Assistant] I was thinking the same thing. I should just ask him if we're from the same station.


[User] Paintbrush -- check, heavy fuel oil -- check... Now the only thing left to do is paint the wall.

[Assistant] The paintbrush in your hand is like a loaded revolver. What will it be, desperado? Quite a few things come to mind...

[User] "WHAT SHADOW LIES THERE, BENEATH THE BRIGHT GLEAM"

[Assistant] You've spoken. The wall will now silently repeat the message. For a decade or so, until the sea air degrades the paint, adding another layer of *detritus* to the city.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.samaran_vis_calc_wc_success"]]

[Assistant] The crumpled SAMARAN BUTTER billboard still soaks in the canal, marked by tyre tracks.

[User] "Yup -- *I* did this."

[Assistant] Clearly. The motor carriage in question was a Coupris 40 -- mere minutes before it took a final voyage into the ocean.

[User] Why the Coupris 40?

[Assistant] It's about the right size, and the tyre marks look like they came from the skinny tyres frequently found on that motor carriage.

[User] The Coupris 40 is a very popular model with bank clerks, topping-pie delivery drivers, secondary school teachers, cops, strippers dressed as cops, undressed strippers...

[Assistant] What now?

[User] Now? You'd have to follow the tracks to be sure.

[Assistant] "Yup -- *I* did this."


[User] Establish authority in their eyes.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.hardie_authority_wc_to_get_klaasje"]) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.hardie_failed_wc_once"]]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["whirling.hardie_failed_the_wc_second_time"]) == false]

[User] This time it's going to work. You already ruled out the first, *bad* option that didn't.

[Assistant] "Let's try this again -- Kim, gimme your gun."

[User] "No," he whispers, not even looking at you. "Not going to happen."

[Assistant] "I need Kim and his gun here for my *demonstration*."

[User] "The fuck are you talkin' about -- gun?" He asks angrily. "No one's gonna let you wave a gun around here."

[Assistant] That's it? That's all I got?


[User] "Great! You wanna bounce something off your old friend, Mr. Claire, right?" He seems genuinely pleased. "Well, let's hear it, Harry!"

[Assistant] "What happened to the previous negotiator, Mr. Gaumont?"

[User] "What do you mean, Harry?" The big man sounds annoyed. "Nothing. I let him go."

[Assistant] "He made concessions for the company in previous negotiations. Why would you let an ally like that go?"

[User] "He's an old man, Harry. I wanted him to spend more time with his family." He looks down and sighs. "God knows how long he's got left."

[Assistant] "You called him a midget."

[User] "Harry!" he exclaims, indignant. "I have *little people* in my organization. I would never call someone a midget. What is this?"

[Assistant] "Honestly, I'm beginning to think *you're* a midget, Harry." Abruptly, he smiles and changes his tone. "I'm only kidding, Harry. You're not a midget. No one is. We're pals."

[User] It's hard to say if he really lost his temper or if this is another one of his tricks. This man... almost never angers visibly.

[Assistant] "Evrart, Joyce seems to think the Union is low-balling her."


[User] A police badge on which you see the photo of a man -- you. Some seaweed is stuck to the back.

[Assistant] "I found my badge!"

[User] "At least *something* good came out of all this." The lieutenant glances at the badge in your hands.

[Assistant] Study the badge.

[User] Encased between two durable plastic sheets is a bluish card with lines of information -- and a watermark in the shape of the street grid of Revachol West.

[Assistant] You see: a photo, a name, a rank, a document number, the date of issue, and -- in the lower right corner -- your precinct.


[User] An old door, worn by elements, guards the depot. The wind has blown a sand dune in front of it. The door hasn't been opened in a long while. You see a handle.

[Assistant] "Could this structure have been used to take the shot?"

[User] "From here to the Whirling? I can't see how..." He looks southeast and blows on his fingers: "The church is in the way."

[Assistant] "Could this structure have been used to take the shot?"

[User] "From here to the Whirling? I can't see how..." He looks southeast and blows on his fingers: "The church is in the way."

[Assistant] "Could this structure have been used to take the shot?"

[User] "From here to the Whirling? I can't see how..." He looks southeast and blows on his fingers: "The church is in the way."

[Assistant] Open the door.


[User] Stop. Just up ahead: danger.

[Assistant] You are prepared. Don't put away your friend. Your weapon.

[User] Raindrops slip from the barrels of your Villiers 9mm pistol.

[Assistant] For God's sake -- find some bullets before you go any further. An unloaded gun won't do you any good!

[User] Wait -- your old friend has prepared you for this -- at great cost to himself. Make sure you have the spirit bomb in your hand when *shit goes south*.

[Assistant] I'm ready to do this.


[User] The woman gazes steadily at the waves. A sudden gust picks up her dark hair and lets it fall again, tussled, wild. She brushes a few stray locks from her eyes, and only then spots you approaching.

[Assistant] "Aye, so here you are. The sun is up and the rain is..." she puts her hand in the rain, "...cold. Ice cold. I don't mind. At least it keeps the drunks and teenagers at bay."

[User] "Know that you're not the first guy to bring a girl to Land's End. This is what locals call a *make-out spot*. That is not going to happen here today -- I just want to make that clear, dimples." She turns to face the sea once more.

[Assistant] Her thoughts are still elsewhere -- with distances across the water, and with the water itself.

[User] Across the rusty water -- that's La Delta, the financial district. In the mist-covered distance, towers rise as a rebuke to the poverty of this coast.

[Assistant] (Look at her) "You seem surprised that I made it."

[User] She chuckles. "Drinking men aren't known for keeping their appointments."

[Assistant] "I'm just trying to be a responsible grown-up."


[User] Ruination has come. The broken arches betray the once grand history of this building. It towered over the harbour, until *it* happened.

[Assistant] Form a guess about what happened.

[User] A great force from the northeast fired into the city. Heavy artillery shelled the coastline, fired from the water -- a straight shot into Revachol.

[Assistant] The tenement acted as a defensive wall against the worst of the shelling. Until it was destroyed, and they had a direct firing line.

[User] The wind blows through your hair. The sea breeze cuts around you, high on the balcony, as you stare over the edge at the sea.

[Assistant] Time to go. [Finish thought.]