[User] "Oh, that... you're not gonna believe me. There's no point in me telling you."

[Assistant] She's less prone to blurting out 'crab-man!' than the others.

[User] "You're right. Let me ask you about something else."

[Assistant] "Go ahead."

[User] "Have you seen a suspicious woman around here? A woman who looked like she might be on the run?"

[Assistant] "No."

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

[Assistant] "Just no?"

[User] "It's pretty desolate here, I only hear the dogs bark at night and see the shadows move down the coast."

[Assistant] Long shadows, short shadows. Quiet shadows of local children, loud shadows drunks and also a shadow made of sticks... you breathe on your hands for warmth.

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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["ice.acele_heard_about_plan_for_church"]  or  Variable["ice.andre_greeting_done"]  or  Variable["ice.andre_volition_exit_used"]) == false]


[User] "A tragicomedy..." He shakes to life. "Druggies, prostitutes and rentiers."

[Assistant] A strange little engine seems to fire up in him again. It straightens his back.

[User] Detest pushes the cobwebs out of his eyes, pushes the melancholy aside. He relishes it.

[Assistant] "More specifically?"

[User] "Specifically, the whole city is a charnel house, stripped clean and draped in neon. But Martinaise..." he shakes his head in grave disgust, "Martinaise is the worst."

[Assistant] "How come?"

[User] "Because of the *racists*. Everyone is a racist in Martinaise, it's their favourite thing to do in the whole world -- listening to race-themed radio shows. In the ruins, in their lorries." He points inland.

[Assistant] "Pumped full of steroids and Radio Revachol '92. Race this, race that... It's all sanctioned by that social democratic Union and the farce of a social democrat who runs it..."

[User] "Mr. Claire?"

[Assistant] "Yes, the fly larva in his container. He let some nihilistic advertising yuppies erect a statue of Filippe III -- a syphilitic murderer -- on the town square. To spit on the working class."

[User] Let him finish, do not interrupt.

[Assistant] "Not since the serfs of ancient Perikarnassis has History produced a more *inert* social class than the Martinaise proletariat. The rest of Revachol at least *pretends* to rebuild, these people still live in ruins..."

[User] "In tents, like animals..." He points to the church. "Like those boom-boom-morons on the ice. A pity they didn't drown in that tent of theirs." He keeps shaking his head with sorrow for the sight he missed.

[Assistant] Nod.

[User] "The worst of them is the blood-drenched *soucriant* on her yacht, licking her lips. The old whore's gone now, her gun toting porcelain men are dead -- so, actually, no..."

[Assistant] "The *worst* is that old cock parading around in his uniform, throwing balls all day. It's not enough that the racists and liberals are dancing on our graves! The old loyalist ghouls still parade the ruins too."


[User] "Okay, I gotta ask. Where exactly are you from?"

[Assistant] "What's it to you?" Deep-set suspicion drips from every syllable.

[User] "Curiosity. Going to figure out this strike mess."

[Assistant] "Big mess. Caused by Union greed." He shoots you a wary, distrustful look. "But I only fight for the rights of people."

[User] Every once in a while, it is like you can see glimpses of another guy under the guise of this *fighter for jobs*. He seems a more brutal, cunning and suspicious person. Just a hunch. Or... you just might be paranoid!

[Assistant] "Already got that. I'm interested in *your* background."

[User] "We're all workers. Right? Workers stick together. Came from the Eminent Domain, in Jamrock. Background's in odd-jobs -- heavy lifting, cargo hauling, bouncer work. I know the drill."

[Assistant] A monstrous shadow, high above the firetraps of the Domain -- the 8/81 motorway running over this district of Jamrock. Concrete pillars rise up from the midst of the dilapidated wooden houses. On the horizon, barely visible, the hazy machinery of the harbour...

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

[Assistant] Don't. No need. Focus on something else.

[User] "So anyway, cop. That's where I'm from. It would be *stupid* to doubt that."

[Assistant] "You're not from The Domain."

[User] "Yeah?" The man grunts. "What makes you say that?"

[Assistant] "I don't know what makes me say that."


[User] "Of course, let us dispatch with the formalities, you call me Evrart, I call you Harry!"

[Assistant] "Fine by me."

[User] "So Harry, what can I help you with today?"

[Assistant] "You called me 'Mr. Du Bois.' Why?"

[User] "Of course, let us dispatch with the formalities. You call me Evrart, I call you Harry!"

[Assistant] That's what the hanged corpse called you -- Harry.

[User] "Is that my name?"

[Assistant] "My god so it's true! I didn't want to believe it, but you *are* a fantastic science-fiction amnesiac cop, aren't you?" He shrugs with an amazed expression. "What are the odds of that?"

[User] "I think the odds of that..." He looks at you. "Are very low."

[Assistant] It might be a good idea to hide your *confusion*... I mean, see what his game is first.


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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["plaza.gaston_told_about_peoples_sandwich"]  and  Variable["plaza.gaston_fascist_sandwhich"]  and  (Variable["plaza.gaston_altgreet_rene_dead"]  or  Variable["plaza.rene_know_dead"])) == false]

[User] A man so principled about his sandwich calls for a principled approach. Time to get political.

[Assistant] I'm not so sure about this...

[User] Too late. Daddy's already fighting the bad fight. Make it stick.

[Assistant] "This city's going to shit. Sooner or later some foreign anarchist is gonna *steal* your sandwich. That's a fact."

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

[Assistant] "Eh... I don't think that's gonna happen." He chuckles. "Why would you even...?"

[User] "Cause that's how foreigners *are*, Gaston. They won't stop 'till you have nothing left."

[Assistant] "He won't care." The old veteran glances at his partner. "As long as there's food in his fat belly, he'll lick any boot that's kicking it to him..."

[User] Good, René's on board too -- time to take back the streets. Right-wing populism, here we come!

[Assistant] "Revachol is calling -- she needs us. Not tomorrow, not *soon*, but right now. Let's take our home back."

[User] "*Now* you are talking sense, son." His eyes light up. "All three of us, working as a group -- we can make a difference."

[Assistant] Whatever you're selling there -- he's buying it. In bulk.


[User] "I think this may be the Artemitep's Boxing Club For Young Athletes."

[Assistant] "I think you're right," he says. "Though it looks like no one's been here in ages..."

[User] "I doubt the electricity still works... Good thing we have a flashlight on us."

[Assistant] Some specks of dust shimmer in a faint beam of daylight falling from the window. Other than that, the room is dark.

[User] An eerie feeling rises in your chest...

[Assistant] "Let's go get the flashlight then."


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

[Assistant] "We're inside the chimney of an old central furnace. It's strange, I know." She looks at the ruddy bricks that make up the walls -- even though they've been repainted there are still signs of coal-black soot here and there.

[User] "But when I arrived here, all the other rooms were taken, so I had to build myself a makeshift home. Besides, I don't really have to pay any rent here, so that's a plus."

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

[User] Plaisance was right... There's an entity living in the chimney! You should ask her about the curse.

[Assistant] Does it mean she's *unlawfully* occupying a part of the house? Shameful!

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

[Assistant] "Creative." The lieutenant looks around the spacious room, its ceiling fading into shadows above.

[User] When she arrived here, there was no room anywhere else... She must've known the other businesses.

[Assistant] "Do you know what happened to other tenants? Everyone else is gone."

[User] "More or less." She adjusts the yellow scarf that covers her hair. "Are you interested in anyone specific?"

[Assistant] Oh, quite a lot of them spring to mind.

[User] Rats scuttle in the dark rooms, under the abandoned blow driers and dusty mannequins, cobwebs cover rotors and radiocomputers alike... so much failure.

[Assistant] "There was a terrifying taxidermied bear in the cellar."


[User] A man lies on the boardwalk, his limbs bent and neck turned at an unnatural angle. Right next to him is an empty bottle of spirits. In his cramped hand: a chewing gum wrapper.

[Assistant] Study the man himself.

[User] The man has fallen through a crack in the boardwalk and hit his head against the metal bench. Coagulated blood covers his black hair. One of his feet is still dangling through the hole.

[Assistant] You have to be quite inebriated to fall that bad. Well over a litre of pure ethanol. Three bottles of wine or one and a half of spirits?

[User] A bad fall. It might have been dark outside? This place is a mine field in the dark.

[Assistant] When damp these boards are really slippery, even a sober man could loose their balance here.

[User] Examine his face.

[Assistant] His expression is dull like the sea behind him, drops of water shining on his moustache. His eyes, empty and wide, look frightening in their frozen gaze.

[User] Height: 170-175 cm, curly hair, stout build. Age: approximately 50-60 years.

[Assistant] He was confused when he died. Confused and alone, most likely. Overcome with the awful surprise of it all.


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

[Assistant] This is the door to the pinball workshop that you left barred on the inside.

[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"]]

[User] Must be something valuable inside to go through the trouble of protecting it -- the door is very sturdy indeed.

[Assistant] Kick the door in.

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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.arrest_klaasje_done"]  or  Variable["TASK.enter_cavern_done"]  or  IsHourBetween(7,22) == false]


[User] (Nod.) "What now?"

[Assistant] "I'll call the station tomorrow and let them know the name of the deceased."

[User] "That's it?"

[Assistant] "That's it. We should get back to our case now that our duty here is done."

[User] "That's it?"

[Assistant] "That's it. We should get back to our case now that our duty here is done."

[User] "Right, this is closed then." [Leave.]

[Assistant] He nods. "Let's go."


[User] You see rows of toy soldiers guarding the rest of the trinkets displayed on the table: some on horseback, others in rags, others yet in bright blue uniforms. All are stern and unyielding in their duty.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.roy_inland_buy_done"]]

[User] Dig up a truly *cool* figurine in the box under the table.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.toy_white_check"]]

[User] Why, what's this? A headless man riding a horse? A headless man wearing futuristic track suit trousers that say FALN!

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

[User] "The Headless FALN Rider!"

[Assistant] "Indeed." He immediately knows what you're talking about. "I think I even have his cap somewhere down here..." He looks for it. "A tiny miniature FALN cap to go with it. Yours for 50 cents."

[User] He doesn't elaborate on what that means -- it's unlikely that he will.

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


[User] Signage is put up and taken down, shop windows boarded up and reopened once more. What remains constant -- voyeurism, always unhelpful. And, at times, quite fully helpless.

[Assistant] It's not my fault this pinball operation failed.

[User] No, but how does it make you feel, to dig through its trash?

[Assistant] Like a survivor.

[User] But of what conflict or catastrophe?

[Assistant] [Ignore thought.]


[User] "Are there any *invisible* cryptids?"

[Assistant] "Of course. All fairy tales have someone or something invisible in them."

[User] "Shush, Kim, she's gonna tell me about the invisible cryptid. What is it?"

[Assistant] "It's the *Col Do Ma Ma Daqua*," the woman corrects her glasses. "Its name means 'thin whisper of sound'. And that's *precisely* what it is -- self-replicating sound waves, invisible and intangible! The Col Do Ma Ma is very afraid of us, which makes it incredibly difficult to track..."

[User] "Col Do Ma Ma Daqua" can also be translated as "a whisper light and low."

[Assistant] "What does it, um, sound like?"

[User] "Like nothing. It's such a high-pitched sound that us humans can't hear it -- nor can other animals. It could be ringing right outside your window -- and you wouldn't even know it! It could be anywhere -- everywhere, even..."

[Assistant] "But how can an animal be a sound?"


[User] "I'm more interested in *why* you're so fixated on this idea in the first place."

[Assistant] "I think I just need a break from our main case for a bit."

[User] "I certainly understand the impulse, but this is our job, detective. Our whole *raison d'être*. At some point, we'll need to return to it."

[Assistant] "Do you think we'll actually be able to reach the Coalition with this?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["reputation.kim"] > 1]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["reputation.kim"] > 5]

[User] "You've surprised me more than once during the course of our investigation, but I have to say it still seems like a *remote* scenario." He shrugs.

[Assistant] "Do you think we'll actually be able to reach the Coalition with this?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["reputation.kim"] > 1]

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


[User] You stop mid-step and put your hand on the garish necktie.

[Assistant] That bottle, *bratan*! Just look at that bottle!

[User] Where? Bottle? What?

[Assistant] In this drunk's hand -- on the pipe there. Glowing blue, a mysterious, otherworldly blue. Filled to the brim with holy mysteries!

[User] It's hard to know what exactly your vivid interior is speaking of here, but I'm guessing it's got a lot of alcohol in it.

[Assistant] I really don't care about any bottle. I don't want to look at 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. That she said would be in a buoy on the coast.

[User] "It says -- Katarzine Alasije."

[Assistant] "Okay. So what? Loop Cuno in on this."


[User] "Okay."

[Assistant] "What's the deal with Egg Head?"

[User] "What do you mean?"

[Assistant] "Tell me about the others."

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

[Assistant] "What do you think of the crab-man?"

[User] "Oh, the crab-man." She shudders. "Still gives me the creeps, the way he moves... But he doesn't actually come down that much, just climbs around the rafters."

[Assistant] "I just try to stay away from the crab-man, but he talks to Noid. They seem to have some 'thing' going on."

[User] "What does he do up there?"

[Assistant] "Who knows?" She shrugs. "He doesn't really answer our questions, see. Not that it's easy to ask them. What are we supposed to do, yell up at the tower?"


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["cargo.cabinet_main_hub_reached"]]

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

[User] The file cabinet stands steady as ever. Sliding out a drawer presents you the folders you already went through. On top of them is the handwritten note.

[Assistant] Close the drawer. [Leave.]


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

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

[User] A typical Martinaise street light sits among assorted floor and table lamps.

[Assistant] Street lights like this one were part of a renovation effort a few decades back. Sadly, the effort was abandoned before it was completed -- and so these lights still illuminate crumbling streets.

[User] "How much for the street light?"

[Assistant] "Seven hundred reál. A bargain, I dare say."

[User] A bargain?! No, it's not! He's trying to sweet-talk you into buying trash!

[Assistant] "Even taking into account the risk of obtaining the light, that seems a bit steep...."

[User] "There's also the matter of rewiring. But the most important transformation is the light's placement among ordinary *indoor* fixtures, which has adjusted its morphological field. The light became suitable for use inside the home just a few days ago."

[Assistant] "How much for the street light?"

[User] "Seven hundred reál. A bargain, I dare say."

[Assistant] A bargain?! No, it's not! He's trying to sweet-talk you into buying trash!


[User] "Mr. Harry! Boy, old Leo sure was right about you! I knew you was a Union man at heart when I first saw you." He takes a quick breath. "Right as I turned around and looked at you, I said to myself: 'Now that fellow is a union man right there. Through and through.' And I was right, yes I was, yes I was."

[Assistant] "Sure, sure, Leo... go easy now and answer some questions please."

[User] "Sure thing, mister. I'm always ready to help out a helpful person such as yourself. Folks have got to help each other out, right?"

[Assistant] "Where is everyone? The harbour is empty."

[User] "Oh, most of the guys are down at the gates, keeping the scabs from coming in..." He leans in with a confidential look...

[Assistant] "We're on a *strike* -- the whole union is! You don't have to work when you're on strike. Ha -- we haven't worked for two months now."

[User] "So *no one* is working?"

[Assistant] "Not everyone is down there of course," he chuckles, "Mr. Evrart is in his office, where he always is, and Jean-Luc is guarding the gate..." He pauses to think.

[User] "...but Titus and his boys got into some drunken trouble and Evrart sent them on a nice vacation. For a week or so..." He stops -- but seems eager to tell you more.

[Assistant] "What trouble did Titus and his friends get into?"


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

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


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["auto.inside_shack"]]

[Assistant] The bed is comforting, if a bit run down. Still, you've earned a rest.

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

[Assistant] Go to sleep.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["auto.inside_shack"]) == false]

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

[User] The passage of time has not made the sheets any less coarse. The bed sags beneath your weight as you close your eyes and drift off into an uneasy sleep...


[User] "Did you shoot Lely?"

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["boardwalk.ruby_didnt_do_it_arguments"]) == false]

[User] "No, I didn't do it. I only helped stage the lynching. Though I doubt that makes much of a difference to *you*."

[Assistant] So she says she didn't do it -- and she doesn't trust you. Is it you specifically or the Citizens Militia that she distrusts?

[User] "Who ratted me out, by the way? Was it Titus? No," she hesitates, "he wouldn't have broken first..."

[Assistant] "It was your girlfriend. She cracked."

[User] She smiles bitterly. "Nah, she didn't crack. She's a survivor. If she told you anything, it was to save herself..."

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

[User] "But she couldn't have known I was on the coast. How did you find me?"

[Assistant] "Your... own boys told us you were on the coast."

[User] "*My* boys?"

[Assistant] "Okay, call them the Hardie boys, then."

[User] She pauses, taking it in. "Well, fuck. And those guys *liked* me -- I know it. If this is what happens to people whom people like..."

[Assistant] A dull despair is creeping into her voice.


[User] "Are those specks stars too?"

[Assistant] "No. That's the *uninhabited archipelago*."

[User] A Dolorian-era symbol of Insulinde. Known as The Face In The Sea.

[Assistant] "Kim, what is the *ICM*?"

[User] "Insulindian Citizens Militia. It's the official name of the communards' army. The Black and White Army of the Revolution."

[Assistant] Sounds an awful lot like...

[User] "Kim, what is the *ICM*?"

[Assistant] "Insulindian Citizens Militia. It's the official name of the communards' army. The Black and White Army of the Revolution."


[User] Large letters on the front form a title: "Wirrâl." The colourful box is illustrated with bucolic vistas. The cover art also features odd-looking humanoids, some short, some taller, some with pointy ears, others with ephemeral wings.

[Assistant] Examine the box.

[User] Text underneath the title, in smaller typeface, reads: "Third Edition, Mega-Setting Supplements Module." The side panel adds: "A sword and sorcery adventure board game. With new maps and miniatures."

[Assistant] Look at the back.

[User] A blurb on the back reads: "Tired of the tedium and toil of modern life? Escape to Wirrâl! Leave behind isolas and nations with their petty squabbles. Discard electricity, magnets, and boring technological widgets..."

[Assistant] "Succumb to a world of high-Pasternal fantastique, unleash your imagination and create an adventure of endless possibilities. Discover the terrible secret threatening Wirrâl -- can your band of adventurers save the world?"

[User] Definitely not, it sounds too dangerous.

[Assistant] It's not dangerous, it's fun, structured fun! All you have to do is read an intricate rulebook, study an assortment of maps, unfold the illustrated gameboard, and start rolling dice.

[User] In no time you could be romping through grasslands with low-level characters, hunted by iyskel riders... or battling unspeakable monsters in endless dungeons fraught with danger and despair, conjuring up forceful maegics to aid your quest.

[Assistant] Don't forget heated arguments escalating to physical confrontation with your friends.


[User] A sulphur-crested cockatoo sits on the cover, its beak slightly open. It looks as if the bird is calling out the book title: "From A to Zrieek! A Guide To A Well-Behaved Cockatoo."

[Assistant] Steal the guide to cockatoos.

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

[Assistant] You wait for the storekeeper to be distracted. When she's not looking, you haul the tome of cockatoos into your pocket.

[User] It's quite a challenge, but eventually the guide to cockatoos is yours. Splendid effort!

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["tc.turn_off_tutorial_node"]  or  Variable["character.interactable_tutorial_seen"]]


[User] "I asked her where we are, what city is this, maybe even *what year*. Something like that."

[Assistant] He shrugs. "That's clearly your interrogation technique. Anything else?"

[User] "I tried to hit on her..."

[Assistant] "Understood." He's stone-faced.

[User] "Better not to add anything to that."

[Assistant] "Mhm," he nods. "What else did you do?"

[User] "That's it." [Leave.]

[Assistant] He nods. "We'll be all right, officer. This is nothing."

[User] You feel fortified by his assurance. It's going to be all right.

[Assistant] Is it, though? 'Nothing'? You're still in for a bumpy ride here, try not to mess it up.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["tc.wards_plais"]) == false]

[Assistant] A heavy door with a missing handle stands before you, covered in dozens (if not hundreds) of little oddly-shaped trinkets and charms. It appears to be locked.

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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.bookstore_backdoor_greeting_done"]]

[User] Knock on the door.

[Assistant] Only an echo... No one is there.

[User] A hollowed out, dark echo...

[Assistant] Knock on the door.

[User] Only an echo... No one is there.

[Assistant] A hollowed out, dark echo...


[User] "Give me a moment..." The cleaning lady still seems to be having difficulty breathing.

[Assistant] "I am looking for the parents of a kid named Cuno."

[User] "De Ruyters are at the end of this hallway, right next to the communal bathroom."

[Assistant] "Who are you?"

[User] "I'm no one, just an old woman who cleans these hallways."

[Assistant] "Do you live here?"

[User] "If you can call it living..." She spits on the floor, before wiping it off with a broom. "I have a little room upstairs, right next to the coal room."

[Assistant] "It's barely bigger than a closet, but I don't complain, no..." She juts out her chin, eyes shining. "I have my bed and my aching bones to keep me company and that's all I need from this world."

[User] And all she gets, too. The coastal wind beats down hard on the coal room door, outside. Splashes of waves make the balcony slippery...

[Assistant] She hasn't spoken to anyone for a while. Even her sentences feel rusty.


[User] It's clear you like the hard stuff, bröther.

[Assistant] What is my lower intestine going on about?

[User] Lower intestine? The term is METABOLIC AND CIRCULATORY SYSTEM.

[Assistant] Okay, but... what's *the hard stuff*?

[User] *Fascism*, bröther.

[Assistant] *Fascism* sounds so bad, though. What if we called it something else? Like, uh, *traditionalism*?

[User] Ökay. Yes. Let's call it that. Good thinking.

[Assistant] That sounds much better. Traditionalism. You like the sound of that.

[User] What *is* fascism, though?

[Assistant] Many things, but it's möstly about trusting your gut. Who does your gut tell you is the source of Revachol's problems?

[User] Foreigners?

[Assistant] Yes, them, but also...

[User] ...wömen.

[Assistant] Wömen?


[User] The Man from Hjelmdall stares out at you from the cover, his face fixed in grim resolve.

[Assistant] Look at the back cover.

[User] The back blurb reads: "His latest adventure serves as the perfect introduction to the savage *Hjelmdall Saga*! Meet Man from Hjelmdall, his faithful blood-brother Tyrbald, the noble Lord Wrôthgär, and some of their most fearsome foes yet. For the Northlands! For HJELMDALL!"

[Assistant] Below, in smaller font, you see the parenthetical: "(Adapted from: 'Man from Hjelmdall and the Necromancer's Treasure,' 'Man from Hjelmdall: Lord of Wrôthgär,' and 'Man from Hjelmdall: The Curse of Nachtherrer.')"


[User] Face yourself.

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

[User] It's time you knew the truth, bröther.

[Assistant] I am ready.

[User] Love... time... Revachol...

[Assistant] It's all shit.

[User] All of it?

[Assistant] *All* of it.

[User] Even love?

[Assistant] Especially love, bröther. Face it, no one's willing to make the sacrifices that are necessary, not in this day and age.

[User] Look deep inside yourself. You know it's true, because it *hurts*.

[Assistant] I may as well give up then...

[User] Who said anything about giving up?

[Assistant] It takes a true kingsman to summon the *will* to face reality in all its darkness. To stare straight into the abyss and do *what must be done*.

[User] I will bear any burthen.

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


[User] "Did you ever use artillery fire against the *communards*?"

[Assistant] "Sadly, no. It was the foreigners who brought them to their knees. We fought valiantly -- too valiantly. So valiantly we got licked," he adds, squeezing a *boule* in his fist.

[User] "Should've fought dirty. Like they did with their suicide sex cult propaganda and *mad anarchist women* strapped to shrapnel bombs. We didn't though. And we lacked *calibre*. God bless him, but the suzerain's cannons simply weren't big enough.“

[Assistant] It was probably a bit more complicated than that.

[User] (Look around) "I understand. I'd bomb this place too."

[Assistant] "This place is the damn Beachhead, son," he says, pointing to the bay. "They didn't do it because they didn't *like* it. They had to soften the commies up first."

[User] "The Beachhead?"

[Assistant] "Yes," he nods, inspecting you with some disdain. "The military-coordinated amphibious landing to take back Revachol."

[User] He finds your lack of historic knowledge troubling. A sign of mental deterioration in the proceeding generations.

[Assistant] "Martinaise was used as one of the three footholds in Revachol during Operation Death Blow in '08. The other two are off in Stella Maris and the Delta." He points to the northeast.

[User] Nod thoughtfully and turn to look northeast.

[Assistant] "This here is blood ground, where Coalition boots first made landfall and cleaned those rabid dogs out. Most likely," he says, looking down at the soil, "we're playing pétanque on their mangled corpses."

[User] "Blood ground..." The other one shakes his head. "You got old René going there. Like he isn't angry enough already..."

[Assistant] "Hold on -- the Coalition?"

[User] "Mhmh," he grunts. "Don't get me wrong, officer. I hate those foreign dogs. But the enemy of my enemy and all that. They're the lesser evil."

[Assistant] "Is that why everything is so bombed out?"


[User] Toy soldiers stand guard over bowls filled with bracelets, rings, and used cigarette lighters.

[Assistant] Inspect the blue uniforms.

[User] They're not all blue. These figurines also wear gold coats and caps, complimented by orange trousers. They are variously posed, wielding swords and rifles with bayonets.

[Assistant] "Wait, this looks like René, the old guy who was playing petanque."

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

[Assistant] "This is what the loyalists looked like, yes." He inspects the figurine. "At first. Then they wised up and got camouflage."

[User] (Point at the blue figurines.) "What exactly are these?"

[Assistant] "Which ones?" The man peers from his glass box. "Ah! Royalist soldiers from the time of the Revolution. The uniforms are painted a bit too brightly, I suppose."

[User] Win 'her' back?

[Assistant] Yes! Buy something nice! A figurine.

[User] This sounds... off. You shouldn't trust this guy.

[Assistant] Win 'her' back?

[User] Yes! Buy something nice! A figurine.

[Assistant] This sounds... off. You shouldn't trust this guy.


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

[Assistant] "You're up quick... How was your sleep?"

[User] (Swallow the blood and conclude.) "Let's comb the entire island, centimetre by centimetre. That's the next step in the *task chain*."

[Assistant] "Okay," he replies simply.


[User] "It will take just a moment, officer..."

[Assistant] Her voices fades out into the familiar radio static.

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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["plaza.kineema_gottlieb_call_counter"] >= 2]

[User] "Gottlieb. What is it now?" There's not the slightest hint of wanting to know the answer in that familiar raspy voice.

[Assistant] "Doc, someone broke my heart."

[User] "Look, pal -- getting *pumped and dumped* is not a disease. People live through it all the time. You should be happy for her."

[Assistant] "Wait... pumped and dumped?"

[User] "That's what the guys say, officer. That some chick pumped you -- and then dumped you. Threw you away like an empty juice carton."

[Assistant] Don't take it personally. There just wasn't any *juice* left in your carton, pal.

[User] "Do you know who this person was, have I told you..."

[Assistant] "You must have me confused for a close personal friend... I am not. I am a medical professional -- with a constant *idiot* emergency on my hands."

[User] One needs tending to right now, he thinks, looking around the room. God, these apes...

[Assistant] You hear someone whine in the background. "My eye, doc... my eye..."


[User] One day, you may be able to scale this tower. But it won't be today. Neither your sinews nor your spirit could handle this ascent.

[Assistant] I'm a man in his prime. I should be able to do anything. This isn't fair.

[User] You might be that numerically, but you've really done a number on yourself too.

[Assistant] When your mind is clear of the neurotoxins you've been injecting it with for years, and your body regains some nimbleness and swiftness, you might achieve such a feat.

[User] You're not doing *that* bad. But, yeah, there's some distance to go.

[Assistant] Yeah, you were getting a tad too ambitious there.

[User] Seriously what were you even thinking? You haven't been putting the work in to pull off a stunt like climbing to great heights like a cat.

[Assistant] But, can't deny it -- your mind's pretty clear, all things considered. In fact, it's too clear for you to be buying into this climbing vision quest.

[User] I don't care about the physical stuff -- I'm in it for the spiritual experience.

[Assistant] Some people will find that attitude admirable... but it's not going to help you scale these beams.

[User] "Hey, man. I see it in you -- you are prepared to surrender yourself to the fire of revelation. But you're still a bit shaky spiritually." He looks you over. "You're also just, physically, shaking."

[Assistant] "Keep the flame in your soul alive, though. One day you'll make it up here, if you put in the work."


[User] This old fireplace is covered in lines drawn in blue and red marker, the mesh spreading over the stone like blood vessels on alabaster skin. It looks ghostly and strangely ancient.

[Assistant] A diagram for summoning some time-forgotten being? The symbols seem very esoteric.

[User] The whole thing resembles Kedran mosaic tiles. Very Pisantic.

[Assistant] What am I looking at?

[User] Radio frequencies, it seems. UKV123.6, UKV123.7, UKV123.9... some written notes too. Sparse and cryptic.

[Assistant] Radio frequencies for what?

[User] Unclear. It looks like a cardiovascular system, split into veins and capillaries. Very advanced.

[Assistant] Of course... (Narrow your eyes.) The anatomy of *the curse*.

[User] Perhaps... The web is comprised of radio stations. All lead back to one red heart, titled: The Game Master Frequency. A note says: 'This one can listen in on any station it wants?!'

[Assistant] Looks like a surveillance programme...

[User] They must have had *massive* airwidth. These things don't come cheap.

[Assistant] If it's a game, then who's playing?

[User] Whoever decides to call in to a call-in station, it looks like.

[Assistant] A list of names under the stations suggests people across *six isolas* would be playing: Mundi, Insulinde, Katla, Graad, Samara, and even Iilmaraa.

[User] All of this gone, left unrealized.

[Assistant] There's no way a little basement studio working *here* could pull anything like this off.


[User] Despair creeps into you, getting fat on your weakness. Whatever noble intentions you once had as a police officer -- it's eating them all up now.

[Assistant] There's something else in there. There has to be. But -- it's like reaching your hand into muddy water, fishing around, and coming up with nothing...

[User] Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're shit out of luck *fishing around* right now. You're drowning.

[Assistant] You're still coming up with sentences. That's a step up from total annihilation, right?

[User] "I'm seriously running out of shits to give, Kim. Fuck you."

[Assistant] "Fuck me? I understand this is by no means an easy investigation, but..."


[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"]) == false]

[Assistant] Establish authority, yes! AUTHORITY! Feverish thoughts race through your mind.

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

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

[User] "Guess what: I've come upon something incriminating."

[Assistant] "Incriminating... now that's a big boy word." He puts his beer can down.

[User] "Why was there a *Vermillion* belt around his neck?"

[Assistant] "Vermillion? Like we use in the harbour?"


[User] "I wanna talk about the hanging again."

[Assistant] "Again? Someone ask the guy for an autograph -- you cops are his biggest fans."

[User] A burst of laughter in the room; the little guy is the loudest. "Good one, Titus!" he fawns.

[Assistant] "*How* did you kill him?"

[User] "We hanged him up by his neck until he got real still. Wasn't that obvious, copper?"

[Assistant] "Didn't they teach you *anything* at the cop school, idiot?"

[User] You're pretty sure you've had at least two years of *cop school* and many more of active service.

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

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

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

[User] This is where an autopsy would come in handy -- you have to work with what you know.

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


[User] The motor carriage looks very sad sitting all alone in the ice.

[Assistant] Remember the tyre tracks in Martinaise? This is where they were leading.

[User] "This is where the tracks on the plaza were leading to."

[Assistant] "It appears to be so." The lieutenant has a peculiar look in his eyes as he inspects the wreckage.


[User] "You said 'Revakhol'?"

[Assistant] "I like to pronounce it the *hard* way. The old way. The Vespertine way." He nods solemnly.

[User] The *stupid* way?

[Assistant] He winks at you, trying to relay some hidden message. Inviting you to mispronounce it too perhaps? It's odd.

[User] It's a secret rite. A very fringe-nationalist handshake, probably.

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

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

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

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

[Assistant] But still... he's definitely one of us. Longs for the Old Days - the *Old Ways*. He's likely to know how to turn back time. Ask him!


[User] Well, hello. Someone seems to have found himself a bottle of *alcohol*. Here's where the *magic* happens.

[Assistant] Look at the bottle.

[User] Light reflects off the green glass of the Commodore Red. The gods have been generous. Better pop it open before they change their minds...

[Assistant] Wow, the gods of mass production have made this alcohol container *laughably* easy to open. A child could have done it.

[User] I don't know about this...

[Assistant] No. No. I'm not doing it. [Ignore thought.]

[User] Fine. We're not worried... you'll crawl back to this bottle soon enough. We'll give you another chance. Booze *always* gives you *another* chance.

[Assistant] Yes, it's *merciful* that way. It's your friend. Come back to it, we're all rooting for you to.


[User] "Big surprise." The lieutenant grins mirthlessly. "Anyway -- one down, three to go."

[Assistant] "No need to grin. I'm not *expecting* to find anything. I'm helping some citizens and getting some fresh air."

[User] "I meant no offence, just..." The lieutenant doesn't know how to finish the sentence. He looks at you, putting the trap back on the ground.

[Assistant] Look around.

[User] The reeds sway in the coastal breeze. They seem to be waiting for something.

[Assistant] The wind picks up here, near the cape's end, surrounding the narrow strip of land from three cardinal directions. It's cold for this time of year.


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

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

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

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

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

[Assistant] "Hello again, esteemed officer. And welcome to Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People."

[User] "I had a few more questions about the curse..."

[Assistant] "Okay, but please, only a few questions." She peers at the curtains. "You wouldn't want to disturb the spirits..."


[User] "Yes?"

[Assistant] "Garte, I found a new bird for the Whirling." (Give him the ruffed grouse.)

[User] "What is this thing?" The man takes the stuffed bird.

[Assistant] "I wanted to apologize for breaking the great skua -- by bringing you this ruffed grouse."

[User] "Okay..." He inspects the bird, somewhat suspiciously -- then mellows. "Okay. Well. This is actually a nice bird. A competent piece of taxidermy."

[Assistant] "I can fix it to the plaque and have a... new bird in the establishment I guess?" He hesitates. "So, I don't know... thank you? I'm gonna go with *thank you*."

[User] People just don't know how to accept gifts, especially taxidermy. He likes it. He likes the bird. It solves his broken bird problem.

[Assistant] This was mostly about the fucking *cardio*. Massive cardio here. You'll live 'til 90! *Or* you'll get a heart attack from running.

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

[Assistant] "Where did everyone go?"

[User] "Oh, you know..." he looks around at the empty place. "People don't tend to stick around after shoot-outs. Turns out they're not good for business."

[Assistant] "What happened to the man with the sunglasses?"


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

[Assistant] "He did everything he could," the lieutenant interrupts him. "*We* did everything we could. The company hired unvetted mercenaries. Lieutenant Du Bois got between them and the locals."

[User] Here comes the cavalry.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["plaza.tribunal_rc_dodge_ruud_shot"] == false]

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

[Assistant] "He did so at considerable risk to his own life. He was shot, and survived only because of his armour. We stopped an execution, not a negotiation. The loss of life was minimal compared to what it could have been."

[User] "I'm just sorry."

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

[User] "Stop being sorry for five minutes," he says in a lowered voice.

[Assistant] "Thank you for the input, Lieutenant Kitsuragi. I didn't mean to suggest you didn't handle the situation..." He brushes a stray strand of hair out of his eye and coughs.

[User] He thinks of apologizing but decides against it.

[Assistant] "You've spent the week with him -- on this case. What is your take?"


[User] "CONFINED QUARTERS, ASSAILANT COMING AT ME! SPLIT-SECOND DECISION, FIRE AT WILL!"

[Assistant] OH MY GOD!!!!

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

[Assistant] CONDITION BLACK, ALL SYSTEMS CRITICAL!

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.pigs_rc_fil_paintresh_conditionblack"]]

[Assistant] No... no-no-no-no. THEY'RE REALLY NOT. The gun wasn't even loaded. No shots fired. You're fine.

[User] "Wh... what is this?" The old woman looks at the treacherous weapon. "This isn't police issue. Police weapons have bullets. This isn't real!"

[Assistant] The gun lands on the wooden planks and tears run down her scratched cheeks. "Police guns always have bullets... What is this? Why did you sell me this?"

[User] She looks devastated.

[Assistant] Grab the gun! Right now! This might be your *ONLY* chance.

[User] "I'm done with this gun." (Leave it behind forever.)

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

[User] "Why would they cheat me like this?! I don't have *ANYONE*!" She slams her heavy boot in the ground. The impact travelling through the planks, sends your gun through the crack, into the black nothingness below.

[Assistant] That gun was the single greatest thing you had. This is an enormous loss.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["cargo.evrartdocument_forged_two_signature"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (CheckItem("white_envelope_signed_wrong")) == false]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: CheckItem("white_envelope_lilienne_and_idiot_doom")]

[Assistant] You take the legal documents out of the envelope: a 12-40 month construction period and the zoning plan in the addendum. It's signed by Lilienne Carter and 'Idiot Doom Spiral'.

[User] "Kim, what do you think of this?"

[Assistant] "I'm no property lawyer, but it looks fine," the lieutenant replies, flipping through the documents. "I like the print size. They're not selling or leasing anything. It's not a perfect solution, but..." He shrugs.

[User] ...how else are you going to build something? It's always inconvenient to build things, and citizens inevitably have disagreements over such construction projects, but there's no other way.

[Assistant] Put the documents back in the envelope. [Leave.]


[User] "Surprise, Titus! I've connected you to the local drug trade."

[Assistant] "Like hell you have." He leans back, unruffled. "There is no 'local drug trade'. This place is as clean as a rifle. Go back to Jamrock and ask the local junkies how clean *your* streets are in Precinct '41-Kilos'."

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

[Assistant] "Forget it. I knew you'd never own up to it." (Back off.)

[User] "Own up to what?" he shrugs. "Why don't you limp out of here, little detective, and keep your nose off my intersection."

[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] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.hardie_drama_rc_success_they_lie"]]

[Assistant] But you know someone who *might*.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: DayCount() == 3]

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

[User] "Offic... argh..." He rubs his chest and spits. "Goddamnit... pull yourself together, René." He turns to you. "What do you want?"

[Assistant] This man seems to be experiencing a mild to medium level of congestive heart problems, either due to narrowing of the arteries or high blood pressure.

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

[Assistant] "Do *May bells* mean anything to you, René?" (Show him the flower.)

[User] He glances at it and frowns. "I prefer the old name -- Insulindian Lily. Girls brought them to young cadets when they entered service. Wearing them on your cap was supposed to bring good luck."

[Assistant] "Did they bring you good luck?"

[User] "You know what..." He falls silent and the emerging smile withdraws. "No. They brought me misery, false hope, and disappointment. The *revolutionaries* sullied them."

[Assistant] You stirred up some bad memories there.

[User] "But it wasn't the revolutionaries that *sullied* the idea for you, was it?" He looks at the old soldier almost gently. "She gave them to me too and your jealous little heart just couldn't accept it."

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


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["church.ravers_inside_church"]) == false]

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

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["ice.andre_greeting_done"]]

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

[User] "So you had a talk with Andre, and now you want to discuss things with Noid? Good." Skin shows through the holes in the speedfreak's too-large sweater. In front of him -- an open toolbox full of carpentry tools and parts.

[Assistant] "It's good you talked to Andre first. Gave me time to get a reading on your *sine*. Can't really talk to people before you get a reading." He runs his hand through his hair, which is combed back in mock seriousness, and continues to fiddle with some gears.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["ice.noid_empathy_tinkerer_said"]) == false]

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

[User] "What about now? Are the sines all right now?"

[Assistant] "Na... huh. Still strongly out of sync. Stage gamma dis-alignment."


[User] Look under the boxes of carton.

[Assistant] You see: milk, an egg-rest with one broken egg in it, some pasta wrapper... Picking up the soggy packages somehow feels familiar.

[User] You've done this before. The movements are recorded in your elbows, the methodology in your fingers... you're used to this.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["yard.trash_interfacing_has_done_dumpsters_before"]) == false]

[User] A box falls into pieces in your hands: Batiste *Soleil* cereal. There are plastic pasta packages below, and *Turbo* noodles. Nothing of note, however.

[Assistant] Dig in Hobocop-style -- for extra content.

[User] Wow, an Armistice calibre 50 nock cannon, half wrapped in paper tissues! So shiny...

[Assistant] Where?! I can't see it.

[User] Never mind, look at that fat string of Archipelagoan pearls snaking amidst the banana peels!

[Assistant] And is that a Cordon Electrics pre amp with Elektra f2 tubes? It is! That catches quite a price, we're talking 12,000 easy. Unless you're into hi-fi yourself?

[User] I am into hi-fi!

[Assistant] That's too bad, because none of those things are actually in there. There's just food waste and crisp wrappings.


[User] The cover of this pocket-sized volume features a swirl of orange, yellow, and green. The title, "A Brief Look at Infra-Materialism," is set in an authoritative yet approachable serif font.

[Assistant] What an interesting colour palette. It's vibrant, yet somehow leaves you ever so slightly nauseated.

[User] On the inside jacket flap, you find a brief summary: "What is infra-materialism? A highly theoretical branch of Mazovian communism? A collection of mystical ramblings by a discredited revolutionary? Or possibly both?"

[Assistant] "This Brief Look(TM) introduces readers to one of this century's most fascinating and misunderstood theories in a concise, jargon-free manner."


[User] The elevator stands open, inviting you to step inside.

[Assistant] This elevator must have been used to transport pinball machines to and from the upstairs workshop.

[User] "This elevator must have been needed to transport the pinball machines up and down."

[Assistant] "Seems so, although it's pretty... quaint for a freight elevator." He taps on the guttering light bulb -- it's golden in the dark.

[User] Could this have been for moving pinball machines up and down?

[Assistant] Looks like one would fit in there, yes. Although it's also surprisingly human -- in the golden light of that ancient bulb.

[User] "I wonder what this elevator was used for."

[Assistant] "Seems like a small freight elevator for transporting machinery. For that -- it's pretty quaint." He taps the on the guttering light bulb -- it's golden in the dark.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (DayCount() == 1) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.inspect_traps_2_done"]]

[User] "Hello, sweetie. How are you?" She sounds tired.

[Assistant] Dark circles around her eyes. She's absolutely exhausted.

[User] She asked about you because she's afraid to hear about the traps. But that's what she really wants news of.

[Assistant] Maybe you could convince her to tell you about some *cool* cryptids?

[User] There's really no point in manipulating anyone. You're chummy. Just go on and ask!

[Assistant] "Hey, Lena, I'd really like to hear about some of those juicy *cryptids* you've studied. Could you tell me about a couple?"


[User] The thick journal bound in brown leather is full of candour and diagrams.

[Assistant] Study the handwriting.

[User] The large cursive of someone who writes quickly and confidently.

[Assistant] Perhaps too confidently -- many phrases and even paragraphs have been crossed out, with tiny corrections scrawled above and in the margins.

[User] Flip through the pages.

[Assistant] It's a mix of logistical notes, diagrams, and personal reflections, all dated.

[User] Anything about... La Puta Madre?

[Assistant] That name isn't mentioned as far as you can tell.


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

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

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["gates.mhead_altgreet_postfight"]) == false]

[Assistant] "DO NOT PRESUME THIS HAS DRASTICALLY ALTERED OUR RACE DYNAMIC."

[User] "I knocked you out like a god of martial arts."

[Assistant] "TRUE. I SAID NOTHING ABOUT OUR PERSONAL DYNAMIC -- THAT HAS ALTERED." He adds: "A LITTLE."

[User] He means *very* little.

[Assistant] "I think I know what the Race Enigma is."

[User] "AND?"

[Assistant] "Paradoxically, you plan to supersede the Occidenals with their own race theory."

[User] "LOOK, BABE, THE MINION OF LAW IS ALSO A RACIST. BUT HIS RACISM IS BASIC AND ROTE. HE THINKS HE HAS SOLVED THE GREAT RACE *ENIGMA* BY DESCRIBING A ROTE MECHANISM OF SCIENTIFIC COMPETITION."

[Assistant] "So un-advanced..." The woman looks half-bored.


[User] "It's just a failed business. The only question is -- what the hell were they making?"

[Assistant] "Yes, that *is* the question..." The lieutenant takes a step back, steepling his hands.

[User] Like he's ready to lay out a fine theory, crafted together like a puzzle box.

[Assistant] "It looks like one of those popular pen-and-paper role-playing games -- only these people were trying to *automate* it. Make it work on *radiocomputers*."

[User] "And by 'these people' I mean people in Soona's radio game company -- Fortress Accident."

[Assistant] Utter madness, he thinks -- as a compliment.

[User] "What do you think happened to the company?"

[Assistant] "No idea... They stopped filling out the schedule on the chalkboard."

[User] "And this was a role-playing game?"

[Assistant] "Indeed. Those *welkins* are a dead giveaway." He points to the chalkboard. "Role-playing people love that stuff. The world looks like a modified version of the Wirrâl boardgame... with heat death thrown in."


[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]

[Assistant] "Are you famous or something?"

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

[Assistant] Yeah... it's still irony.

[User] "I knew it, Kim! I knew I was a superstar."

[Assistant] "I fear..." The lieutenant lowers his voice. "I fear you're misinterpreting this situation."

[User] "Talk to me, superstar. What do you want?"

[Assistant] "Are you famous or something?"

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

[Assistant] Yeah... it's still irony.


[User] "I'm more interested in *why* you're so fixated on this idea in the first place."

[Assistant] "I think I just need a break from our main case for a bit."

[User] "I certainly understand the impulse, but this is our job, detective. Our whole *raison d'être*. At some point, we'll need to return to it."

[Assistant] "Do you think we'll actually be able to reach the Coalition with this?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["reputation.kim"] > 1]

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

[User] "To be perfectly frank, I have my reservations about this whole antenna scheme. But who knows? We may yet be surprised."

[Assistant] Examine the transceiver.

[User] It's about the size of a small paving stone, and nearly as heavy. Now that you're looking at it more closely, you realise the various dials and meters make it look vaguely like a face. A distinctive triangular logo forms the nose.

[Assistant] That's the marque of Esterhaz Elektronika, one of the major manufacturers of advanced radio equipment.


[User] The Delta Logistics Company truck stands here waiting, reflecting white light from the courtyard behind it.

[Assistant] You knew it would be here, blocking the gate.

[User] Are there people in there?

[Assistant] Yes, people hard at work at their desks. They can barely tell if it's day or night anymore because the lights in the building are so uniform and bright. Who knows when they'll come out?

[User] Are they really so pressed for time to finish whatever they're doing? Sounds potentially dangerous...

[Assistant] Could be. They certainly want to stir the pot. Remake reality in some new image.

[User] Can't I get into the courtyard somehow?

[Assistant] Not yet.


[User] The motor carriage looks very sad sitting all alone in the ice.

[Assistant] That *rebel* who jumped the canal and broke the waterlock! This is their doing.

[User] This is where the rebel who jumped the canal ended up. Not so daring anymore!

[Assistant] "No..." The lieutenant looks at the carriage and then at you. "Not so daring at all."


[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] The lieutenant looks around the dusty, crowded room, inspecting the tools on the shelf.

[User] "Looks like they gave up on fixing the pinball machines at some point."

[Assistant] Yes. Pinball hasn't enjoyed a heyday for fifteen or twenty years.

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

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


[User] "Of course, let us dispatch with the formalities, you call me Evrart, I call you Harry!"

[Assistant] "Fine by me."

[User] "So Harry, what can I help you with today?"

[Assistant] "I'm ready for my gun now."

[User] "Harry, I've got to be honest with you." He turns solemn. "Your gun was found two days ago. Withholding this information weighed heavily on me. But it had to be done."

[Assistant] "You bastard!"

[User] "Your gun is with an old woman," he says, absolutely unperturbed by your outburst. "I hear she's a character, so watch out."

[Assistant] This must be the woman who bought the gun from Roy, the one he described as "terrifying."

[User] "So the gun's still with the woman who bought it from Roy..."

[Assistant] "Yes, the same one -- I see you've done your research. The pawnshop made the gun easy to track..." He smiles and shakes his head in wonderment. "Crazy stuff, Harry. Selling your gun like that! Wild. Anyway..."

[User] Union boys are gonna help you *fix* it, he winks at you. Don't worry Harry.

[Assistant] "...the neighbours of this old woman contacted my men, because they trust me and the Débardeurs Union. Apparently she was waving it around at the entrance to her building."


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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.tent_covered"]]

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.ruby_killed_herself"]]

[Assistant] The plain red tent rests stoically in the corner. Ruby's dead body is wrapped in her sleeping bag.

[User] Sift through the books and magazines.

[Assistant] Assorted softcovers, mostly pulp horror. A motor carriage lies buried in the snow on one cover, on another -- a ghost airship. You also see a collection of radio enthusiast magazines.

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

[Assistant] Sift through the magazines.

[User] 'Rega Monthly', 'Journal of Material Science'. More technological digest. One of the magazines doesn't have images on the cover -- it's not a magazine, it's a leather notebook!

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


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

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

[User] "That's one brutal motor carriage," says the young man with 'PISSF****T' written on his back.

[Assistant] "If I were a real SKULL now, I'd jack it, paint it in palm tree livery, then bottom-light it neon-style!" His companion wears a simple yet elegant slogan: 'FUCK THE WORLD'.

[User] "A snazzy shit-ripped SKULL-mobile like this would make a fine trophy. We could, like, hang fucking shrunken heads from the side mirrors! Cops' heads... Scary tribal shit."

[Assistant] "Yeah, tribal shit..." he agrees. "A cop-carriage like this would have proper SKULL value..."

[User] "Ahem." He steps in. "While I appreciate the interest you take in my *brutal motor carriage*, I have to stop you right there. The RCM takes threats directed at its property seriously."

[Assistant] "I, uhm, it's just theoretical work, copper. No basis in reality." He turns to his companion: "Man, if we were certified SKULLS right now..."

[User] SKULLS -- now there's a strong organizational title.

[Assistant] Was it a good idea on the lieutenant's part to get into this? Don't even answer that, just leave. You can always come back later -- on your own terms.

[User] "Who are you?"

[Assistant] "I can tell you who we're not, cop. We're *not* snitches, f****ts, or SKULLS."

[User] "Which is not to say that the SKULLS are bitches and f****ts. On the contrary..."

[Assistant] "The part of this presentation you wanna take home with you, cop-man, is: We're not part of the SKULLS. Yet."

[User] Okay then -- let's indulge in some intellectual exchange. These young men seem eager to share their beliefs.

[Assistant] These *skull* people are more than an authority. They're deities.


[User] "I think we're finished with this line of questioning." (Hand the lieutenant back his notes.)

[Assistant] "Alright." The lieutenant puts the slip back in his notes and observes the young woman for a moment.

[User] Coolly, gracefully, she pours herself more coffee.

[Assistant] "Can you tell me more about the victim? General information, I mean."

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

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

[User] "Yes, miss. I hope you don't mind." The lieutenant hands you his notes.

[Assistant] "Something miraculous is coming. He told me."

[User] The lieutenant blinks -- his expression does not change.

[Assistant] All right. Let's see where this is going.


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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["canal.water_lock_left_mid_intro"]]

[User] "Welcome back, officer."

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

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["TASK.close_water_lock_done"]  or  Variable["canal.water_lock_alt_cant_chat"]]

[Assistant] "High time I got moving up the coast. But please, officer, after you."

[User] "Alrighty then." [Leave.]

[Assistant] "Cheers!" He salutes you with a half-eaten piece of salami.


[User] ... is what you plan to say. Before you can get past 'you're under', the kid interrupts you:

[Assistant] "You sure?" He whispers. "You sure we got it all?"

[User] (Turn to the suspect.) "One more thing, Mr. Dros..."

[Assistant] The old man looks at his rifle in your hands -- a little startled for some reason...


[User] An old cylindrical generator is nested above the ammo lift, with makeshift electrical wiring running out of its side and across the floor. The cables disappear into the wall to your right.

[Assistant] Cuno puts his hand on the generator. "This shit's cold."

[User] N-n-n-no. This isn't right...

[Assistant] Ignore it.

[User] You brush away the thought and turn back to the generator.

[Assistant] Pour fuel into the tank.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["inventory.ledger_greeting_done"]]

[Assistant] It's the ledger you found in the trash: a cabbage of papers hanging from the board, barely held together by the clip -- and made complete by the faint smell of urinal cleaner.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["inventory.ledger_toilet_paper_seen"]) == false]

[Assistant] Look at the clipboard.

[User] It's made of dark blue plastic hard enough to beat someone to submission with. The edges are rounded, however. The U4-sized board feels thick and heavy in your hand. Light shimmers on its wet surface. On the back you see the embossed letters: RCM.

[Assistant] Back to the rest of this mess.

[User] U4-sized pages hang from the clip screwed to the top of the board.

[Assistant] Read a case file.


[User] The super fancy topping pie is waiting for you to dig in.

[Assistant] You should eat it slowly, really savour the chef's concept.

[User] Eating this pie will almost certainly make you less of a man. What were you thinking, agreeing to take a wheat-free, meat-free pie from that sleazy bastard?

[Assistant] I'm hungover and *famished*! Who cares what's on it? Devour that topping pie!


[User] It's clear you like the hard stuff, bröther.

[Assistant] [Discard thought.]

[User] No, no. When the blööd and the flesh call, there is no discarding them. Speak true, do you like *the hard stuff*?

[Assistant] What is *the hard stuff*?

[User] *Fascism*, bröther.

[Assistant] Am I having some kind of stomach seizure?

[User] Stomach truth. You're having a stomach *truth*.

[Assistant] Am I having some kind of stomach seizure?

[User] Stomach truth. You're having a stomach *truth*.

[Assistant] Why am I getting this?


[User] Is that the phasmid? It looks like the phasmid, leaning against the wall...

[Assistant] Wait, what if this is the fishing rod situation all over again?

[User] You're not going to be fooled again. You're going to stand here calmly and observe this non-phasmid until you see what it really is...

[Assistant] Fine. It's not a phasmid. It's not even organic. Just a fire iron resting by the fire place. But... where's your sense of wonder, man?


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

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

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

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

[User] 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.

[Assistant] You took your shot and still missed. Well, you did your best, champ. Shame it wasn't good enough.


[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. It's late and it's raining. The water is..." She puts her hands out and lets the rain fall on her palms. "Cold. Ice cold."

[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] "Maybe this was a mistake. Everything feels uncomfortable. I should leave." [Leave.]


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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["whirling.karaoke_drama_redcheck"]  and  Variable["whirling.garte_greet_post_karaoke_done"] == false]

[User] "Ah, 'Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns,' right?" The cafeteria manager is waiting for you to acknowledge that he recognized the song.

[Assistant] "Yeah. The Church is actually my *love*. Things are really *bad* with it."

[User] "Cool." He really does sound like he thinks it's a little *cool*. "Now, what can I do for you?"

[Assistant] "I need a drink. Can you pour me one?"

[User] "Do I have a shaker in my hand? Is this..." He points to his empty hand. "Is this a shaker?"

[Assistant] He sounds irritated.

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

[Assistant] ... and it's not a shaker. It's nothing. He's holding nothing.

[User] "No. There's nothing there."

[Assistant] "Am I wearing a little bow tie? Am I wearing a bow tie and doing this?" He shakes the imaginary shaker, furiously.


[User] "Hello, mister!" A young girl, barely four or five years old, sits on the sofa. She is looking at you with frank curiosity.

[Assistant] She clutches a small stuffed animal. Occasionally she twirls it around.

[User] "I'm talking to the children to learn from them. Has anything strange happened here lately?"

[Assistant] "Uhhhhh..." She sits her doll on her lap. Its ragged limbs reach out toward you, as if longing for a cuddle. "Like what?"

[User] "Anything that will help me dismantle Capitalism, so that you can inherit Communism, O' Girl Child Revolution?"

[Assistant] "Cap-capi-capeel..." She struggles to pronounce the words. She shakes her head. "No."

[User] "Poor Girl Child Revolution. What have the bourgeois done to you?"

[Assistant] She turns the stuffed lamb to face her. "What does that mean, Lamby?" The doll offers no reply. Stuffing hangs out its rear.

[User] "Never mind. Have you just seen or heard anything weird lately?"

[Assistant] "Yes!" She lights with recognition. "The twins got in trouble for saying *bad words*."


[User] The door is small but heavy-looking. It's barred from the inside.

[Assistant] "So what's on the other side?"

[User] "Unless we've veered off into a folded M dimension, I'm expecting to step out on the roof."

[Assistant] Folded M dimension. A reference to the popular science fiction series *In System*. Look who's in a good mood suddenly (and reads science fiction).

[User] Yes. It *is* quite likely that we will re-emerge on the M-Plain. Brace for psychokinetic impact. (Or the roof.)

[Assistant] Lightly punch the door once more. Just in case.

[User] The door shudders a bit, as though it were laughing at you.

[Assistant] Lightly punch the door once more. Just in case.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.feld_mural_main_hub_reached"]]

[Assistant] The once-bright mural towers above you, saying "FELD ELECTRICAL R&D."

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.mural_look_in"]  and  IsKimHere() == false]

[Assistant] Somewhere in Martinaise, Lieutenant Kitsuragi is consulting his notebook... A sudden draught turns a page between his hands. You're going to need him if you want to listen to the wind.

[User] Pull on your knowledge to understand what caused the twins to hear radio in their heads.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["boardwalk.mural_encycloedia_pass_check"]]

[User] You know a lot about radio. Enough to know: You have no idea how or why those boys heard Speedfreaks FM in their heads.

[Assistant] Knowledge like that isn't just obscure; it's unknowable. Dangerous theoretical facts like that are probably protected under the Coalition Government's Articles of Dominion, Title XIV, Article 7c. While an expert might be able to suss it out on their own, a layman like you has no hope.

[User] You don't know how it happened. But the stores of your knowledge are vast and there *is* something crucial in them.

[Assistant] What's that?

[User] You know where Ruby *isn't.*

[Assistant] She isn't in the fishing village. She's not with her bullet under the floorboards in the shack. So where could she be?


[User] He suddenly jerks to life: "You know who he was -- a Coalition trained murderer, armoured and armed. He wasn't human, the blunt end of a hammer, *dripping with blood*..."

[Assistant] "He was a rapist. I'm not saying he didn't deserve it."

[User] "...beating us to the ground. Moaning with joy..." He breathes in with strange animation: "You hounds get so thorough when a company-trained killer dies. I haven't seen you on this coast for *forty years*. You know... maybe I should have killed one sooner?"

[Assistant] "Got your attention..." He looks you dead in the eye, pupils shaking. "*Now* you stop beating druggies and prostitutes in your basement. *Now* you come to investigate. Not when they die by the hundreds..." He breathes through flared nostrils...

[User] This is it. Shot him, shot him, say shot him not killed him...

[Assistant] "On second thought -- about something else..."

[User] "Figured." He sighs and holds his lower abdomen. A flash of pain there... it angers him.

[Assistant] "Those words: 'the future teaches you...'"

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

[Assistant] "*Real music, real proletkult*." He nods. "That's La Revacholière, not your rock-and-roll misanthropy. *Chanson de soldat* of the black-and-whites."

[User] Marching song...

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


[User] A moment passes. The lieutenant glances at the sports watch on his wrist.

[Assistant] "Tell me about the case."

[User] "What do you want to know?"

[Assistant] "Actually, I have all I need for now."

[User] "Good." The lieutenant nods.

[Assistant] "Tell me about the case again."

[User] "What do you want to know?"

[Assistant] "What did your preliminary information say about it? Before you came here?"

[User] "You mean like a brief? Do you want me to brief you?"

[Assistant] "*Brief*, yes. That sounds good."

[User] "Three days ago, the RCM Emergencies Desk received a report about a security guard who was found hanged in Martinaise. An anonymous caller said there was a dead body behind the Whirling-in-Rags hostel-cafeteria. The cadaver had been there for four days -- no one had come to investigate..."

[Assistant] "During that time, the victim had been stripped of his belongings. The caller did not identify him, but used the word *lynching*. There is an ongoing labour dispute between the local dockworkers and the logistics company Wild Pines. I was told we should approach the death as part of this dispute."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["gates.mhead_fight_success"]) == false]

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

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: IsTHCPresent("advanced_race_theory")]

[Assistant] "THE UNPROMISING *RACE PUPIL* RETURNS."

[User] Subscribe to his advanced race theory.

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

[User] Ask what kind of races are there first. Classification is core to this stuff.

[Assistant] I don't want to do that. (Opt out.)

[User] Yes. Better not to expand your mind in this direction. You may find out too much about the *mystery*, fly too close to the race sun.

[Assistant] "Don't be such an asshole to your fellow dockworker." (Show him the stolen ID card.)


[User] Like a fan of gills the chequered papers dry in your hand. The handwriting is extremely dense, if mostly illegible.

[Assistant] How much is that -- two new cases a week?

[User] A lot? A little? You have no idea, this all depends.

[Assistant] Does it? It feels like a *lot*. Or maybe even more than a lot. It feels like *too much*.

[User] There was mention of a... *naming convention* here?

[Assistant] Yes. It appears you employ a... shall we say *robust yet literary* system. Each investigation has its case number written on the margins. Yet, still more tellingly, most are accompanied by a *name*.

[User] A *title* one might say even. One that draws inspiration from snoop fiction and Vespertine cop show staples.

[Assistant] I don't wanna... (Back to the case files.)

[User] Arson. Petty theft. Spousal abuse -- handwritten logs on investigations dating back to January, ´51 -- stamped CASE FILES, COMMIT TO PAPER. These are the last couple of months of your life.

[Assistant] (Count the pages.) I have to open an official case. Is there room?

[User] There is -- for precisely *one* more. Fifteen pages near the end remain untouched by the damage. The chequered grid forms a structure of passages, breaking the case into sub-tasks to accomplish.

[Assistant] Once all the tasks are accomplished, the case is complete.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["boardwalk.thepigs_took_rcm_cap"]  and  Variable["boardwalk.thepigs_took_narcotics"]  and  Variable["boardwalk.thepigs_altgreet_items_done"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["boardwalk.thepigs_greeting_done"]) == false]

[User] "Put your hands where I can see them," the ageing woman under a mountain of police paraphernalia mumbles to herself, then notices you and reaches for the megaphone...

[Assistant] "Show me your hands. This is the Pigs. Show me your hands *RIGHT NOW*," she screams in the megaphone. "SHOW ME YOUR HANDS RIGHT NOW!"

[User] Scavenged battery-powered police lights protrude from her back. The flickering light-show reveals a gun in her shaking hand.

[Assistant] Her hand is trembling from some sort of neurodegenerative disease.

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

[Assistant] "Madam! Please drop the firearm immediately!"

[User] You shouldn't be here. Something's very wrong with her. She's completely out of control.

[Assistant] "If you want the prybar you're gonna have to... pry it from me."

[User] "Failure to comply. Suspect is displaying aggression! OFFICER UNDER DURESS! OFFICER UNDER DURESS!"

[Assistant] Her eyes bulge with terror. Veins protrude on her forehead.

[User] "I *am* the police! Don't move! DON'T MOVE! Hands on your head! SUSPECT IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"

[Assistant] "I'm not moving."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (DayCount() == 3) == false]

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

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

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

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

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["auto.is_snowing"]]

[User] "The purity of snow always reminds me of the purity of a man's soul...." He looks at the falling snow. "If he's got principles."

[Assistant] "René, I wanted to ask, what *did* you actually get these medals for?"


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["coast.exec_viscal_succeeded"]) == false]

[Assistant] A scattering of bullet holes is spread across the cracked wall, reaching from one corner to the other.

[User] Why this many bullet holes?

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

[User] A row of ghostly shades stand facing the wall. There are many of them, a dozen at least, their heads lowered and eyes blindfolded. It's quiet. No sound, no movement.

[Assistant] Ten metres away -- other shades are lined up in an orderly manner, automatic rifles primed. A gust of wind blows by -- the coats of the firing squad flap slowly in the breeze. A single person stands on the side.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["auto.is_raining"]]

[Assistant] Droplets of rain fall on the wooden planks, the surrounding sand dunes. The clouds block out any rays of light...

[User] A long time has passed since the moment of this fusillading. Rain and brine have since washed all the blood away. Not a trace remains.

[Assistant] What *is* this...

[User] The abundance of bullet holes leads to two options: either an inordinate amount of executions were performed here, or they did not use a *conscience round* -- where only one soldier has the loaded rifle. Looks like this was a mass execution with everyone fully armed.

[Assistant] "Kim, who was who in this execution?"


[User] "What?" The big man looks at you surprised.

[Assistant] "The brew! The shady, shady brew."

[User] "Oh, how could I forget your little side-project! Well done, Harry. Well done! Don't even tell me what it was. But good job! I love it when workers take the initiative like this."

[Assistant] So do I. That's one tasty brew, you should drink some right now if you can!

[User] "I opened the door you asked me. Can we discuss the murder now?"

[Assistant] "I'm very glad to hear that, Harry," he says with a smile. "One question: you didn't actually happen to stumble in and see what's inside the apartment, did you?"

[User] He's trying to figure out if you're lying.

[Assistant] There is no way to sway this man in any direction. He is un-suggestable and un-swayable. Just tell the truth.

[User] "I did go inside. He had the glorious flag of *Revachol the Suzerain* on his wall."

[Assistant] "The *weasel* is no true patriot, Harry." He shakes his head. "He prays every night for the downfall of the Union -- and spits upon the name of the king."

[User] He *was* testing you. And you succeeded.

[Assistant] "Now let's get down to brass tacks. It's time for men like me and you to figure out who's killed who and why." He pretends to roll up his sleeves. "Real police work is gonna start happening now. I promise you, Harry, this is gonna be good."


[User] Now that you've acquired some stimulants, it's time for a little pick-me-up. Time to *detect*.

[Assistant] What... but right *here*? Now?

[User] See, that's your problem -- a lack of confidence. Speed can help you with that. It can help you with EVERYTHING.

[Assistant] This is gonna be really bad for my health, isn't it?

[User] It's not ideal, no... But you need the zeal. Let's face it, you're never going to finish this case without cheating.

[Assistant] Will it make me into a Supercop?

[User] It will make you into *more* than that -- a Megacop! This is your modus operandi. This is how you've done it for *years*. Let's go!

[Assistant] Okay, my body is ready. Let's do this. (Try some speed.)


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

[Assistant] "Do I *know* you two from somewhere?"

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["inventory.fumee_logic_anagrams"]  or  Variable["inventory.fumee_rhetoric_names"]) == false]

[Assistant] "I don't think so."  The young man gives you a curious look. "Unless you've been hanging around the Cultural Studies faculty at the École Normale de Revachol..."

[User] "Perhaps he subscribes to 'La Fumée'."

[Assistant] That's sarcasm. He does not expect you to subscribe to radical communist periodicals.

[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["inventory.fumee_concept_term_paper"]) == false]

[Assistant] (Show them 'La Fumée'.) "Wait, *you* guys wrote for *this*?"

[User] "*You've* read our article?" For the first time since you've met the young man, words seem to desert him...

[Assistant] "That I did not expect." His companion is blushing now, a sheepish grin on his face.

[User] The energy in the room has shifted ever so slightly in your favour. They're afraid they've somehow *embarrassed* themselves in front of you.

[Assistant] "Well, don't keep us on tenterhooks! What did you think of the essay?"


[User] Good going, buddy.

[Assistant] Is that how it's going to be now when I close my eyes?

[User] Yes. Wait till you see the one with the chick in it, it's gonna be a good one. You feel even worse this morning than you did last night.

[Assistant] What chick?

[User] You don't know? Some broad that messed you up. It'll come to you. It always does.

[Assistant] What the hell is going on with me?

[User] You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.

[Assistant] Why is this happening?

[User] It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.

[Assistant] Don't do that. Stay strong. The hangover will wear off. You don't need to keep doing this to yourself.

[User] Wait. What *is*... speed?

[Assistant] Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?


[User] "I think this may be the Artemitep's Boxing Club For Young Athletes."

[Assistant] "I think you're right," he says. "Though it looks like no one's been here in ages..."

[User] "I doubt the electricity still works... We should find a flashlight if we want to go on. There should be one in my Kineema."

[Assistant] Some specks of dust shimmer in a faint beam of daylight falling from the window. Other than that, the room is dark.

[User] An eerie feeling rises in your chest...

[Assistant] "Let's go get the flashlight then."


[User] "What now?" She crosses her arms impatiently.

[Assistant] "Isn't it a bit late to be working?"

[User] "It *is*." She breathes in and out to the count of three -- it looks like some special stress release technique -- before she continues...

[Assistant] "Everyone says that real estate agents don't *do* anything, but here I am, in the middle of the night, cleaning up someone's 'crash pad'."

[User] "So, the sooner we get this over with, the better." She means you -- time for the next question.

[Assistant] Come to think of it, she *does* look incredibly tired.

[User] "What are you doing here?"

[Assistant] She sighs and looks around. "I need to get it ready for the next lease, but as you can see, the previous tenant completely trashed the place."

[User] "Sounds like they knew how to have a good time."

[Assistant] "It was some kind of a moribund old man, who used to be a business owner. You'd think they'd make rent..." She stops, hesitating.

[User] A sudden serious look crosses her face. This story didn't have a happy ending.

[Assistant] "But -- that was months ago. Anyway. Was there anything you wanted, or is that it? I'm in a hurry."


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

[Assistant] I don't care what it is.

[User] Twelve name cards on the call box read:

[Assistant] "Fortress Accident SCA."

[User] Silence. No one's home at Fortress Accident.

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["doomed.radiocomputer_fortress_accident_why_failed_clicked"]]

[User] They have failed.

[Assistant] "Slipstream SCA."

[User] You hear static from the intercom speaker. It sounds as if someone has picked up the receiver, but isn't saying anything.

[Assistant] You can almost hear them breathe.

[User] "Hello? Is anyone there?"

[Assistant] "Yes, hello, this is Tricentennial Electrics." This is a woman's voice, crackling and fragile through the static.


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (Variable["church.ravers_inside_church"]) == false]

[Assistant] [Action/Check: Condition: Variable["ice.andre_volition_exit_used"]]

[User] "I knew it! The man is back for those sweet, sweet questions!" The young man smiles at you. "What will it be?"

[Assistant] "About the church door..."

[User] "Mhm?"

[Assistant] "Right. Other questions." (Conclude.)

[User] "Sure, man. Tell us what you wanna know, let's do it!"

[Assistant] No words. Just dance.


[User] Deal damage...

[Assistant] 1 dmg to endurance

[User] More Damage!

[Assistant] Deal damage...

[User] 1 dmg to volition

[Assistant] More Damage!

[User] Deal damage...

[Assistant] 1 dmg to endurance

[User] More Damage!

[Assistant] Deal damage...

[User] 1 dmg to endurance

[Assistant] [Leave] I'm done.


[User] This door is made of metal and appears to be reinforced. Someone here really values their security.

[Assistant] Number twenty eight... This is where the cleaning lady said the smoker on the balcony lives.

[User] "Yes?" A handsome young man hums with a cigarette in his hand. "Are you looking for me, gendarme?"

[Assistant] Knock.

[User] No one answers.

[Assistant] "Let's go. There's nothing to do here for us anymore."


[User] "One moment..." You can hear her shuffling through some papers.

[Assistant] "Can you please describe the body -- age, sex, cause of death?"

[User] "An unidentified middle-aged man. Looks like he slipped, fell through a hole in the boardwalk and hit his head against the metal bench."

[Assistant] "Any signs of violence?"

[User] "There might be a *sequence killer* on the loose."

[Assistant] "A sequence killer." You can hear her stop typing. "Are you suggesting that this might be connected to the case you're working on?"

[User] "Actually, scratch that -- there is no sequence killer, I just made it up."

[Assistant] "You just made it up?" Silence. "I see."

[User] "What about his belongings? Did you examine his clothes?" She goes on as if nothing happened.

[Assistant] "He was wearing boots, trousers and an old leather jacket with a bright blue lining. I found a library card from his pockets."


[User] [Action/Check: Condition: (IsKimHere()  and  Variable["gates.measurhead_disable_kim_react_to_turnbacktime_if_seen_once"] == false) == false]

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

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

[Assistant] "THAT SURPRISES NO ONE. AND YET YOU *STILL* FEEL ENTITLED TO RETURN TO THE PAST?" The giant locks eyes with you. His face is serious...

[User] "YOU DON'T HAVE IT IN YOU. BE GRATEFUL FOR THAT."

[Assistant] "Wait, what exactly am I lacking?"

[User] "YOUR NEED TO STEER EVERY CONVERSATION TOWARDS YOUR OWN PERSONA IS A SIGN OF LOW SELF-ESTEEM."

[Assistant] "Stop boring Measurehead. He talks about *big* things and you only talk about yourself!"

[User] "So it *is* possible to go back?"

[Assistant] "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. JUST NOT FOR YOU."

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

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


[User] Winter, slow to let go of Revachol, flecks some more wet snow from above...

[Assistant] Look around you.

[User] The snow falls lazily, making the beach sand paler still, mixing with the rust-coloured sewage run-off.

[Assistant] It has been a cold year. All things waiting for spring will have to wait a bit longer.

[User] What am I doing?

[Assistant] Looking up at the sky, melted snow dripping from your hair...

[User] What do I see?

[Assistant] The sky is full of great battleships. White clouds collide with one another, and the world is drenched with their debris.

[User] How does it feel?

[Assistant] You're warm in your hat and your coat. Like a well-equipped explorer, you comfortably survey the white landscape.


[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)) == false]

[User] "You're back. Good." She takes a sip from her silvery thermal cup. "What can I help you with?"

[Assistant] "Thank you. That's all for now." [Leave.]