Start of a transcript of Slouching Towards Bedlam An entry in the 9th Annual Interactive-Fiction Competition Copyright 2003 by Star C. Foster and Daniel Ravipinto [First time players should type 'about'. Credits are available via 'credits'.] Release 1 / Serial number 030925 / Inform v6.21 Library 6/10 Standard interpreter 1.0 (4F) / Library serial number 991113 >restart /(?? RESTARTperiodfirstrevisit ??)\ y *clunk* The rotating tin cylinder within the phonograph vibrates slightly as a brass needle scrapes against it. The sound of a throat being cleared emerges from the machine's hornshell speaker, followed by a thin, haunting voice. "March the 16th." A deep, shaky breath. "I dread to say it, but I believe I am going mad. The -- *moments* -- come more frequently now. I fear that I have found what I have sought, and I shall now pay the price for it." The scrape of a chair across flagstone. A sigh. "Chaos treads the halls of Bedlam; her work is evident everywhere..." Slouching Towards Bedlam An entry in the 9th Annual Interactive-Fiction Competition Copyright 2003 by Star C. Foster and Daniel Ravipinto [First time players should type 'about'. Credits are available via 'credits'.] Release 1 / Serial number 030925 / Inform v6.21 Library 6/10 Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. A black cube on wheels sits near the door to the south. >about A few, brief notes: - Regardless of how the game responds to them, all meta-commands (SAVE, RESTORE, RESTART, UNDO, QUIT) work as you would expect them to. - Conversation is best handled by the following syntax: ASK ABOUT . TELL ABOUT . , . Note that it is advantageous to ask about the same topic multiple times. - Hints and spoilers are available via the 'hint' command. - Slouching Towards Bedlam contains multiple endings - you may wish to go back and try different actions or attempting to reach different goals to see how your actions affect the story. - The authors can be reached at bedlam@peccable.com and would be very happy to read your comments, questions, or bug-reports. >i Carried: nothing at the moment The phonograph continues to play. "I discredit my profession; examining madness as if the world were a fluent thing and sanity as malleable as the warm wax of a candle." >[wow, nice in media res beginning] To whom were you attempting to speak? >x cube Not a box but a cube; there is no hinge. A fine grid is engraved on its top, dividing it into a myriad of tiny squares. The cube sits on four black rubber wheels, attached by a set of brass leggings that seem capable of telescoping downward. The only other feature of note is a small emerald, set in its side, beneath which is a plaque with the inscription "TRIAGE MK. III". "The secret lays heavily on both my mind and heart. I have told no one; I despair a second opinion would confirm my worst suspicions. I have secured all my knowledge of these events within the mechanical assistant left by my predecessor. It was my hope that it would allow me to see the situation from a new perspective, and help me discover the key to my salvation." >x me That's rather difficult without a mirror. "Alas, it has been to no avail. While I found the entry mode easy enough, and the thing seems filled with information regarding the hospital down to the point of minutiae, it seems helpless in the face of analyzing my current situation." >[er, I can look at almost everything about myself without a mirror.] To whom were you attempting to speak? >x phonograph A delicate device, its base is carved from oaken heartwood, bearing a small black plaque which reads "Columbia Phonograph Co., Ltd. of London". Two ivory arms emerging from the base lean inward, firmly grasping a rotating tin cylinder labeled March sixteenth. A brass needle scrapes against the cylinder's surface. From the base's back emerges a small, black hornshell speaker, its surface delicately curved. The phonograph is currently switched on. "It may be that I have simply not found that by which this growing mystery may be unlocked. Perhaps by subjecting the Triage to further experiential data, it may find something that I have missed. But I have little faith left at this point." >x emerald Dark green to the point of blackness, it is the size and shape of an eye. The sound of a chair creaking. "I have found a blessing in James. He has been nothing but kind and helpful in my short time here. I find myself wondering if, perhaps, he can be trusted enough to... but how can I punish him with this knowledge?" A sigh. "But how can I bear it alone?" >x james No such thing can be seen. >touch emerald It feels as expected. A sudden noise, as of something wooden being struck, comes through the phonograph. "No. I can trust no one, in the end. Not even James. Perhaps soon...not even myself." >push it From within the device comes a sharp clunk, followed by a gentle humming. The emerald blinks slowly -- once, twice -- then glows steadily. The grid of squares which makes up the thing's screen pivot back and forth, seemingly at random, causing ripples of motion across its surface. With a sudden purpose, they begin to flip, revealing hundreds of tiny symbols engraved on their surfaces. The squares continue for a moment, then begin to settle line by line like a fall of rain into a pattern... INIT.CYCLE.COMP. MILL.UNIT.ONLINE STORE.DECRYPT/CO MPRESS.BOOT.STAC K.COMP.OP.SYSTEM UNIT.VER.3.REG:. DR..SIMON..BRAND SET MODE:ANALYZE "I must stop here, I feel the faintness coming once again." A scraping noise, a click. "May God have mercy 'pon my soul." >[was there a mistaken space after 'set' there?] That is not a recognized verb. >push emerald The emerald's light cuts off as the squares flip back to their original blank state. Triage's humming slowly lowers in pitch and volume until finally it is silent. Having reached the end of the cylinder, the phonograph shuts itself off with a tiny "click". >g Triage again starts up, its emerald lighting like an awakening eye. >x triage Not a box but a cube; there is no hinge. A fine grid is engraved on its top, dividing it into a myriad of tiny squares. The cube sits on four black rubber wheels, attached by a set of brass leggings that seem capable of telescoping downward. The only other feature of note is a small emerald, set in its side, beneath which is a plaque with the inscription "TRIAGE MK. III". Triage hums slightly as the emerald pulses with a soft, green glow. >read it Not a box but a cube; there is no hinge. A fine grid is engraved on its top, dividing it into a myriad of tiny squares. The cube sits on four black rubber wheels, attached by a set of brass leggings that seem capable of telescoping downward. The only other feature of note is a small emerald, set in its side, beneath which is a plaque with the inscription "TRIAGE MK. III". Triage hums slightly as the emerald pulses with a soft, green glow. >x grid The machine's screen is on and reads: INIT.CYCLE.COMP. MILL.UNIT.ONLINE STORE.DECRYPT/CO MPRESS.BOOT.STAC K.COMP.OP.SYSTEM UNIT.VER.3.REG:. DR..SIMON..BRAND SET MODE:ANALYZE >push init No such thing can be seen. >push grid Unable to. >x plaque No such thing can be seen. >x triage Not a box but a cube; there is no hinge. A fine grid is engraved on its top, dividing it into a myriad of tiny squares. The cube sits on four black rubber wheels, attached by a set of brass leggings that seem capable of telescoping downward. The only other feature of note is a small emerald, set in its side, beneath which is a plaque with the inscription "TRIAGE MK. III". Triage hums slightly as the emerald pulses with a soft, green glow. >l Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage sits near the door to the south. >x desk A deep green blotter, dotted with black ink stains, sits in the center of the desk, mostly covered by files and papers. One side of the blotter seems slightly higher than the other. The corner of a sandalwood box is visible beneath a stack of thick folders. The desk contains a large central drawer, which is currently closed. >look under blotter Beneath the blotter is a small key, easily taken. It carries a small tag labeled '2D'. >i Carried: a small key labeled 2D >open central drawer The large central drawer opens, revealing a manual and a flanged brass rod. >read manual Emblazoned on the front is a charcoal drawing of a black box on wheels, beneath which is written the words: OPERATOR'S MANUAL TRIAGE PERSONAL ANALYTICAL ENGINE PROFESSIONAL|INDUSTRIAL MK. III. [Please press SPACE.] The FUTURE is NOW... One glance at the TRIAGE line of PERSONAL ANALYTICAL ENGINES will show them to be the finest now available. Each one is made of the materials of superlative quality, its thousands of interlocking parts are HAND MADE and HAND ASSEMBLED. From its alphanumeric kinograph display to its specially designed internal power and propulsion systems, the TRIAGE is simply the most advanced technology made available to professionals for the portable storage and analysis of complex information. In fact, the TRIAGE is so incomparably the best machine made that all we ask an intending purchaser is to compare it with any other before buying. For sale by all first-class mechanist's shops. [Please press SPACE.] A brief catalogue of the TRIAGE, both within and without... - PANOPTICAL SCANNER: set within an attractive faux-emerald, TRIAGE's latest version has updated both its scanning technology and methods such that it can visually analyze a given subject and begin processing within seconds. - INCREASED CAPACITY OF BOTH MILL AND STORE: The TRIAGE line is now capable of analyzing, compiling and storing literally thousands of pieces of information simultaneously. - LATEST CORE ENGINE WITH FOUR-FOLD INCREASE IN EFFICIENCY: TRIAGE has always been famous for its relational algorithms and its capability in connecting seemingly disparate data into a coherent whole. Our latest edition strives ever closer to perfection, improving the system's already impressive functionality. - SMOOTH-OPERATING FULLY ALPHANUMERIC KINOGRAPH DISPLAY: With its compact yet expansive 16x8 symbol display (each one capable of displaying any one of 36 characters), the TRIAGE speaks as well as it listens. [Please press SPACE.] ANALYSIS MODE ...is the TRIAGE'S default and most important mode of operation. Once activated by simply pressing its beautiful faux-emerald scanner, the system will run through its initializing phase and then notify the user that it is ready to begin. The TRIAGE will then follow its identified operator of its own accord, utilizing path-finding and obstacle-avoidance algorithms of the latest design. The system is constantly aware of both its personal environment and the actions of its operator. Once TRIAGE has locked on to its user, operation is simply a matter of making the system aware of particular subjects in the environment for analysis and storage. This can be accomplished by simply POINTING or GESTURING to the object in question. Nothing more is necessary. The system will reply (via its kinograph display) of any pertinent data the operator might find of use. Triage store data is organized as follows: - CAT [category]: Triage maintains a strict hierarchy within which all subjects are stored - is the object in question alive? Is it a tool? Is it not yet recognized? - UTIL [utility]: Of what immediate use is the object in question? How may it be interacted with? - PART [particulars]: Specific information on the object - completed analysis data is often stored here. [Please press SPACE.] OPTIONAL EXPANDED INPUT MODE ...can be utilized to directly enter information into the TRIAGE'S database store. Such data manipulation is not to be taken lightly, as all TRIAGE data must be kept as consistent as possible to prevent internal errors. However, advanced users may find it convenient to input information into the system immediately rather than allowing the system to accrue it via examination and analysis. Expanded input mode requires the optional data input system, which is not sold with the basic TRIAGE. Contact your local mechanists' to special-order yours today. [Please press SPACE.] Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage sits near the door to the south. >x drawer Nothing unusual, it sits unlocked and open. In the large central drawer are a manual and a flanged brass rod. >x rod A short rod of brass with a flange at one end (engraved with a '6') and a series of tines at the other, perpendicular to the shaft. >get it Taken. >point at rod A small beam of green light lashes out over the flanged brass rod as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:KEY.UNLO CK.DEVICE.PART:I D=PANOPTICONKEY. CORRIDOR.6.(UPPE R).PLACE.IN.PANO PTICON.STAND.TO. ACTIVATE/ACCESS. >point at phonograph The emerald eye examines the phonograph returning with: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:RECORDIN G.AND.PLAYBACK.O F.AUDIO.INFO.PAR T:PERSONAL.PROPE RTY.OF.OPERATOR. USED.FOR.DIARY.E NTRY.RETRIEVAL.. >point at me The emerald flickers from head to toe before returning: CAT:LIVING...... *CATASTROPHIC.ER RROR.A042.CATEGO RY.INDEX.OUT.OF. RANGE.STACK.OVER FLOW*PART:ID=DR. THOMAS.XAVIER=CU RRENT.OPERATOR.. >point at triage Triage's emerald searches Triage, then... CAT:TRIAGE.ANALY TICAL.ENGINE.UTI L:EXAMINATION.AN D.ANALYSIS.OF.OB JECTS.AND.DATA.P ART:TRIAGE.MK.II I.UNIT.CURRENT.O PERATOR=T.XAVIER >l Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage sits near the door to the south. >x papers They appear to be of little consequence. >read papers They appear to be of little consequence. >x files They appear to be of little consequence. >x books They appear to be of little consequence. >x window The open window looks down upon the courtyard and adjoining buildings far below. >look out window I only understood the desire to look. >look through window Nothing of interest is to be found. >x courtyard The grounds lie far below - the hard cobbles of the courtyard lead in all directions towards a clump of buildings to the west, all enclosed by an outer wall and roof above. >point at window Triage's beam flickers over the window, briefly, then displays: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >l Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage sits near the door to the south. >x table It sits directly beside the window, its surface entirely covered by the phonograph it supports. >point at table A small beam of green light lashes out over the table as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >l Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage sits near the door to the south. >out One must be in something to exit. >s Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. Behind the most prominent desk sits a nervous young man. Triage silently approaches. The young man looks up and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile that is not quite strong enough to reach his eyes. "Doctor? Are you..." Cold. Yes, the cold is familiar. /(reachgrabfeel|possibility|probability)\ The echo of an echo, the reflection of words from here to the far wall of reality and back. "...alright? You had us all..." /(actionpositiveaffirmative|destroyingfrictionbreakinggrowth|positiveyes)\ "...do you mean...?" The dim light glinting off the small badge he wears - James - Assistant - /(livinggrowthfrictionfurtherspreadingoutwardstretchingyestouchingyes)\ - Bethlehem - Hospital - "All right then, sir." And then he is nodding and returning to his seat, somehow both more and less nervous. /(yesdoneyes)\ >x james He's easily no more then twenty, with an unruly mop of black hair that continually gets in his eyes. The badge, set high near his collar, reads "James Houlihan - Assistant - Bethlehem Hospital." >ask james about me "Well, it's certainly been a pleasure working with you, sir." James licks his lips nervously. >ask james about triage "It was a favored tool of Dr. Brand. He would lock himself in his office and enter data into it for hours." >x james He's easily no more then twenty, with an unruly mop of black hair that continually gets in his eyes. The badge, set high near his collar, reads "James Houlihan - Assistant - Bethlehem Hospital." >point at james Triage's emerald searches James, then... CAT:LIVING.HUMAN MALE.UTIL:COMMUN ICATION.POSSIBLE BY.SPEECH.OR.WRI TTEN.WORD.PART:I D=JAMES.HOULIHAN POSITION.ASSISTA NT.AT.BETHLEHEM. >point at badge The emerald eye examines James returning with: CAT:LIVING.HUMAN MALE.UTIL:COMMUN ICATION.POSSIBLE BY.SPEECH.OR.WRI TTEN.WORD.PART:I D=JAMES.HOULIHAN POSITION.ASSISTA NT.AT.BETHLEHEM. >l Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. Triage rests obediently nearby. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. >x glass Nothing more than a simple line of glass doors leading southward into daylight. James searches under his desk a moment for a lost pen. >i Carried: a flanged brass rod a small key labeled 2D >point at key The machine analyzes the small key labeled 2D before replying: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION James taps his fingers nervously. >ask james about 2d "That's rather outside my bailiwick, sir." James carefully fills out a set of forms, then files them. >l Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. Triage rests obediently nearby. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. James carefully fills out a set of forms, then files them. >e Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >x pyramid Matte black and smooth, it is securely anchored to the pedestal at its inverted apex. >point at it Triage's emerald searches the pyramid, then... CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:ARCHIVE. INTERFACE.PART:P HYSICAL.FILE.RET RIVAL.UNIT.ACTIV ATED.UPON.INPUT. OF.FILE.NUMBER/C ODE.VIA.DIAL.... >point at it Triage's emerald searches the pyramid, then... CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:ARCHIVE. INTERFACE.PART:P HYSICAL.FILE.RET RIVAL.UNIT.ACTIV ATED.UPON.INPUT. OF.FILE.NUMBER/C ODE.VIA.DIAL.... >touch pyramid It feels as expected. >push it Unable to. >l Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. Triage rests obediently nearby. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. >x drawer There must be thousands of them - they extend yards in all directions, vanishing into the gloom. >open drawer The drawers are far too distant to do anything with. >search drawers There must be thousands of them - they extend yards in all directions, vanishing into the gloom. >w Lobby A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage silently rolls to a stop. James carefully fills out a set of forms, then files them. >e Archives At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >verbose Slouching Towards Bedlam is now in its "verbose" mode, which always gives long descriptions of locations (even if you've been there before). >l Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. Triage rests obediently nearby. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. >e Ignoring the railing would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >x railing The platform is surrounded on three sides by a low metal railing, the better to prevent an unfortunate drop into the vacuum below. Footprints mark and remark the dust, forming a trail from the lobby to the pedestal and back. >x footprints The platform is surrounded on three sides by a low metal railing, the better to prevent an unfortunate drop into the vacuum below. Footprints mark and remark the dust, forming a trail from the lobby to the pedestal and back. >pyramid, get file The pyramid cannot be spoken to. >point at pyramid Triage's beam flickers over the pyramid, briefly, then displays: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:ARCHIVE. INTERFACE.PART:P HYSICAL.FILE.RET RIVAL.UNIT.ACTIV ATED.UPON.INPUT. OF.FILE.NUMBER/C ODE.VIA.DIAL.... >dial That is not a recognized verb. >turn dial [Specify a valid value to set the dial to.] >x dial The dial seems capable of being set to any number between 1 and 9 as well as the letters A through F. It currently rests at 1. >set dial to 1 As the dial is set, the pedestal begins to hum and the sound of turning gears can be heard. The tape beneath the panel's glass display suddenly advances from right to left, erasing the display. Then, with a *clunk* it advances one further step ... revealing '1' imprinted on its surface. >set dial to a The tape advances a step further. It now reads '1A'. >set dial to 3 The tape advances a step further. It now reads '1A3'. >set dial to 5 The tape advances a step further. It now reads '1A35'. >set dial to f The tape advances a step further. It now reads '1A35F'. >set dial to f The tape spins forward, blanking the display. Then... "SEARCHING..." Another advance. Then... "FILE 1A35FF NOT FOUND..." The tape advances. It now reads "...RETRIEVAL FAILED..." >x tape A small sheet of glass, beneath which runs a paper tape which disappears into the bowels of the mechanism. The glass is cut in such a way as to magnify the tape beneath it. The tape is currently imprinted with: "...RETRIEVAL FAILED..." > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ >x tape A small sheet of glass, beneath which runs a paper tape which disappears into the bowels of the mechanism. The glass is cut in such a way as to magnify the tape beneath it. The tape is currently imprinted with: 1A3 > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ > Hot key -- Undo one turn Archives /(backyesunturningunmakingUNDObacksliplinereverse)\ >x tape A small sheet of glass, beneath which runs a paper tape which disappears into the bowels of the mechanism. The glass is cut in such a way as to magnify the tape beneath it. The tape is currently imprinted with: "...RETRIEVAL COMPLETE..." >l Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. Triage rests obediently nearby. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. >x platform The platform is surrounded on three sides by a low metal railing, the better to prevent an unfortunate drop into the vacuum below. Footprints mark and remark the dust, forming a trail from the lobby to the pedestal and back. >x pedestal It is shaped like a pulpit. On its flat surface is small panel and delicately balanced at its top is an inverted black pyramid. >x panel Its flat black surface contains a dial and a small glass display. >x display A small sheet of glass, beneath which runs a paper tape which disappears into the bowels of the mechanism. The glass is cut in such a way as to magnify the tape beneath it. The tape is currently imprinted with: "...RETRIEVAL COMPLETE..." >point at pedestal Triage's beam flickers over the pedestal, briefly, then displays: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:ARCHIVE. INTERFACE.PART:F ILE.NUMBER.INPUT VIA.DIAL.OUTPUT. VIA.PAPERTAPE.DI SPLAY.PYRAMID=RE TRIVAL.UNIT..... >n Ignoring the railing would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >d Ignoring the railing would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >u Ignoring the railing would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >w Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage silently rolls to a stop. James stands and stretches his legs for a moment before resuming his seat. >s Courtyard This walled off area sits at the bottom of a massive staircase which leads into the building to the north. At its base is a sign reading "Bethlehem Hospital - Administration." The outer walls meet here - meeting at the distant gates which sit to the southeast. Flanking the top of the staircase on either side are two colossal statues. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. When he hears footsteps clatter across the courtyard, the driver tilts his hat back and says "Where to then, Doc?" with a smile. Triage silently approaches. >x cab A fine cab, painted black with a tired old horse is hitched to its front. In its driver's seat, set at the rear of the vehicle, sits its smiling driver. >ask driver about driver "Reginald, sir. But call me Reggie. Everyone does." >ask driver about driver "I'm a driver, ser. But you knew that already, right?" >ask driver about driver "I've been driving for the Hospital on and off for over a year now." >ask driver about driver "I'm not that interesting a fellow, ser. Not much more to say." >ask driver about driver "I'm not that interesting a fellow, ser. Not much more to say." >ask him about me "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask him about james "Nice enough fellow. Took it hard when the old doc...well, when he left." >ask him about james "Always kind of nervous, isn't he?" >ask him about james "I have a bit of a chat with him from time to time -- not much else, though." >ask him about james "Can't think of anything more to say, ser." >ask him about james "Can't think of anything more to say, ser." >ask him about triage "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask him about brand "Doctor Brand? He was a hard man, if you ask me." >ask him about brand "Well, not hard so much. Mayhaps tired is a better word. Tired of his job, tired of his life." >ask him about brand "I'm not surprised that he finished the way he did. Some days it was as though he carried all the sad in the world on his shoulders." >ask him about brand "Sad ser. Just a sad affair all around." >ask him about brand "Sad ser. Just a sad affair all around." >ask him about sad "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask him about cab "Can't help yer there, ser." >ask him about archive "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask him about horse "Betsy, her name is. She's old, that's true enough, but there's life in her yet." >ask him about horse "Some think she's fit to be knackered, but not me. A good horse, she is -- slow, but dependable." >ask him about horse "She knows her way around these streets well enough that I don't have to steer if I want a little nap now and then!" He bursts into hysterical laughter at his own joke. >ask him about horse "Can't think of anything more to say about her, ser." >l Courtyard This walled off area sits at the bottom of a massive staircase which leads into the building to the north. At its base is a sign reading "Bethlehem Hospital - Administration." The outer walls meet here - meeting at the distant gates which sit to the southeast. Triage rests obediently nearby. Flanking the top of the staircase on either side are two colossal statues. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. >x statues Human figures, they are -- bald and muscular, naked except for a stream of cloth about their waists, each lying against an arch of stone. The leftmost - Melancholy - grips the ground beneath him with a look of placid despair. On the right lies Mania, struggling against his chains. >ask man about mania "Eh? What's that?" >ask man about mania "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask man about mania "Can't help yer there, ser." >ask man about mania "I've never heard of that, ser." >ask man about statues "Eh? What's that?" >point at man A small beam of green light lashes out over Reginald as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >point at statue The machine analyzes the statues before replying: CAT:NONLIVING.ST ATUES.UTIL:UNKNO N.PART:'RAVING.M ANIA'&'MELANCHOL Y.MANIA'.CREATED BY.ROBERT.HOOKE. DESIGNER.OF.ORIG INAL.HOSPITAL... >ask man about hooke "Eh? What's that?" >point at horse Triage's emerald searches Betsy, then... CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >l Courtyard This walled off area sits at the bottom of a massive staircase which leads into the building to the north. At its base is a sign reading "Bethlehem Hospital - Administration." The outer walls meet here - meeting at the distant gates which sit to the southeast. Triage rests obediently nearby. Flanking the top of the staircase on either side are two colossal statues. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. >n Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage obediently appears. James carefully fills out a set of forms, then files them. >w Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the east and the narrow tower to the west. Far below, an intricate set of sub-buildings can be seen, enclosed within the complex's outer wall. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >d Straying from the walkway would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >n Straying from the walkway would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >s Straying from the walkway would most likely result in a rather fatal fall. >w Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the east. Triage obediently appears. >x circles The walls and floor are pale, white and seamless except for the engraved circles. There are six of them - set at various distances from the central console. >c console That is not a recognized verb. >x console It is complex, divided into several discrete sections. Set on a panel is a diagram - a blueprint. A small slot for the dispensing of paper tape lies beside it. Set above the diagram is a prism-viewer complete with two handles. A set of brass listening-tubes terminate on either side of the viewer. >point at it A small beam of green light lashes out over the round console as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:PANOPTIC ON.MAIN.CONSOLE. CAPABLE.OF.VIEWI NG.ANY.CELL.IN.H OSPITAL.WITH.BOT VISUAL&AUDIO.OUT PUT+CODE.STORAGE >x blueprint Intricate in its detail, it depicts a series of twenty-four corridors set about a circular room like the spokes of a wheel. Each corridor opens onto six rooms, three on each side, with one exception: a hall at 3 o'clock instead connects to a building labeled "Administration." At the center of the circular room is a keyhole. Beside it is a two-headed arrow, pointing up and down. Beneath the blueprint is a series of buttons: six labeled A through F and one with an inverted triangle from which six small lines emerge. None of the buttons is currently depressed. The Administration building and its connecting corridor are lit up from beneath, as is the upward head of the two-headed arrow. >point at blueprint The emerald eye examines the blueprint panel returning with: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:PANOPTIC ON.BLUEPRINT.PAR T:ACTIVATE.VIA.P ROPER.KEY.CHOOSE CELL.VIA.BUTTONS PRINT.PATIENT.CO DE.VIA.TRIANGLE. >x panel Intricate in its detail, it depicts a series of twenty-four corridors set about a circular room like the spokes of a wheel. Each corridor opens onto six rooms, three on each side, with one exception: a hall at 3 o'clock instead connects to a building labeled "Administration." At the center of the circular room is a keyhole. Beside it is a two-headed arrow, pointing up and down. Beneath the blueprint is a series of buttons: six labeled A through F and one with an inverted triangle from which six small lines emerge. None of the buttons is currently depressed. The Administration building and its connecting corridor are lit up from beneath, as is the upward head of the two-headed arrow. >put key in keyhole The key apparently does not fit - the hole seems designed to accept one which is long and flanged. >i Carried: a flanged brass rod a small key labeled 2D >x rod A short rod of brass with a flange at one end (engraved with a '6') and a series of tines at the other, perpendicular to the shaft. >put rod in keyhole The brass rod slip easily into the keyhole. Then, of its own accord, it begins to turn - first clockwise, then counter-clockwise. The floor rumbles for a moment. There is an odd sense of movement. The light beneath the Administration and its connecting corridor goes out. A corridor at twelve o'clock lights up as the key stops moving, as does its north-east room. The button labeled 'A' clicks down and begins to glow. The room seems to have subtly cha... /(pain)\ A cacophony fills the room - a hideous screeching echo. /(chaosrandomhurt)\ It continues - emanating from the listening-tubes - a metallic repetitive thrum, the sound of an insect grown to the size of a lion... /(nosensenonsenserandomrandomnosensenonsense)\ ...echo on top of echo on top of echo - resounding through the tubes, the room, the halls. A numbness spreads from arm to hand to finger... /(stopnostopmake)\ A solid *thunk* makes itself barely heard above the noise and then - silence. /(stop)\ The button 'B' is now depressed and glowing - the one beside it now dark - as is the eastern room of the lighted corridor. The sound of dripping water echoes through the room. >l Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the north. Triage rests obediently nearby. From the listening tube comes the sound of sloshing water - perhaps the other end has dropped below the water line? >n Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage silently approaches. >n Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage obediently appears. >e The door to room 6B seems stuck fast - from behind it can be heard the steady drip of water. >ne Room 6A A room that has been stripped almost completely bare - its only pretense at furniture is a small, hard chair thrown off to one side. Its single exit lies to the southwest. Triage obediently appears. >x chair It is so much junk - brittle and old, it is unlikely it could bear any weight whatsoever. >get it It's useless -- better to leave it be. >point at it A small beam of green light lashes out over the chair as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >sit on it It's useless -- better to leave it be. >sw Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >se Room 6C A room whose floor seems in danger of collapse - a hole has started forming in its center and the edges slowly slope in towards it. Its single exit lies to the northwest. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >x hole The hole is approximately the size of a clenched fist, and beyond only darkness can be seen. The floor surrounding it seems anything but stable. >look in hole The whole area seems perilously close to collapse - best not to linger. >jump Jumping in place seems to accomplish little. >nw Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >sw Room 6D An old room that - while crumbling around the edges - is fairly sturdy and secure. Its dusty floor holds nothing more than a cot and a crumbling chair. A set of gas light fixtures hangs off the wall, blocked and in disrepair and a door lies to the northeast. The walls are covered with writing. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >read walls In the walls' current state, it must not have been too difficult to scratch a message into - but the preciseness of the writing is still impressive. Various phrases are carved in a generally circular pattern about an intricate set of lines and circles at the center, within which is inscribed: Z X W H T G B W H T F G W H T F G B Z X W H T The outer writing reads, variously: LOGOS EN SOPH NOTARIKON AND A LITTLE CHLD MKLTH GEMATRIA 2693 19876 MCHN KTHR TEMURAH 1262 8765 SHALL LEAD THEM >point at walls A small beam of green light lashes out over the writing as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:WRITING.UTIL :COMMUNICATION.P ART:MULTIPLE.PHR ASES.POSITIONING POSSIBILY.IMPORT ANT.SIX.SEPARATE PORTIONS?FURTHER ANALYSIS.REQ.... It has no sooner finished showing this then, with a series of clanks, the letters begin to spin wildly, randomly. The screen fills with a series of scrolling data, clearing the old as quickly as the new appears... LOGOS.EN.SOPH... (EN=AIN=NOTHING) WITHOUT.FORM?... SOURCE:HEBREW/KA BALLAH-BOUNDLESS LIMITLESS-CREATO R?GENERATIVE-DIE TY?SECOND.GOD=DE MIURGE(GNOSTIC?) ASSOCIATIONFOUND TRINITY-NOTARIKO N.GEMATRIA.TEMUR AH.ALL.KABALLIST IC.REFERENCES.MA RKINGS.AT.CENTER SUPPORT.POSSIBLE CODE.OR.CYPHER?. AND.A.LITTLE.CHL LD.2693.GEMATRIA /NUMEROLOGY/UNKN OWN.SYSTEM.W/NO. VOWELS?[B=1,C=2] AND.A.LITTLE.... CHLD/CHILD/MCHN/ MACHINE?.SHALL.. MACHINE/KABALLAH REFERENCE?SEARCH ING.?CYPHERIST?. ENLIGHTENMENT.AS INFORMATION?DATA MARKINGS+MLKTH+K THR=MALKUTH.KETH ER-SEPHIRA/ROTH? CYPHER:NO.VOWELS =20.SYMBOLS=?SIM PLE.ROTATION.OR. FOLD?B=N=B/C=P=C ...ZXWHT...MLKTH MLKTH=MALKUTH.!. GBWHTF=SN[KTHR]. [S]=?AS?IS?SO?.. Finally, seeming almost pleased with itself, the machine quiets down, displaying: CENTER.LETTERING CODE/CYPHER(NO.V OWELS)="MALKUTH. IS.IN.KETHER.AS. KETHER.IS.IN.MAL KUTH"=KAB/CYPH.= [MAN]IS.IN[GOD]A S[GOD]IS.IN[MAN] >x wall (the writing) In the walls' current state, it must not have been too difficult to scratch a message into - but the preciseness of the writing is still impressive. Various phrases are carved in a generally circular pattern about an intricate set of lines and circles at the center, within which is inscribed: Z X W H T G B W H T F G W H T F G B Z X W H T The outer writing reads, variously: LOGOS EN SOPH NOTARIKON AND A LITTLE CHLD MKLTH GEMATRIA 2693 19876 MCHN KTHR TEMURAH 1262 8765 SHALL LEAD THEM >l Room 6D An old room that - while crumbling around the edges - is fairly sturdy and secure. Its dusty floor holds nothing more than a cot and a crumbling chair. A set of gas light fixtures hangs off the wall, blocked and in disrepair and a door lies to the northeast. The walls are covered with writing. Triage rests obediently nearby. >x fixtures Their flickering fills the room with uneasy shadows. >point at fixtures Triage's beam flickers over the light fixtures, briefly, then displays: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >x cot A small, well worn cot, almost worn through from use. >x chair It is so much junk - brittle and old, it is unlikely it could bear any weight whatsoever. >search cot The cot holds no use. >look under cot The cot holds no use. >look under chair It's useless -- better to leave it be. >x chair It is so much junk - brittle and old, it is unlikely it could bear any weight whatsoever. >get it It's useless -- better to leave it be. >ne Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >w The room beyond the door to the west seems to have collapsed in on itself - the door swings inwards to immediately strike an impenetrable mound of rubble. >nw The lock and handle on the door to 6F seem broken - making it unopenable. The sound of wind faintly blowing can be heard beyond it, though. >s Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >s Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the north. Triage silently approaches. >push a (the A button) /(no)\ The cold again. And a numbness of the hands. And an inability to resist. The sound of dripping water echoes through the room. >push c The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's south-eastern room also lights up. >push d (the D button) The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's south-western room also lights up. >push e (the E button) The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's western room also lights up. >push f The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's north-western room also lights up. The sound of the wind blowing echoes across the room. >listen The sound of the wind blowing emanates from the listening tubes. >push b The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's eastern room also lights up. From the listening tube comes the sound of sloshing water - perhaps the other end has dropped below the water line? >n Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage obediently appears. >n Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage silently approaches. >listen to a No such thing can be seen. >ne Room 6A A room that has been stripped almost completely bare - its only pretense at furniture is a small, hard chair thrown off to one side. Its single exit lies to the southwest. Triage trundles patiently along beside. It sounds as if an insect is caught somewhere in the room. >listen There is a faint buzzing whine in the air, seeming to come from the southern wall. >get insect There doesn't seem to be much utility in fiddling with the pipework. >x insect Some exposed pipework can be seen along the room's southern wall, from within emanates the faint sound of a cricket's chirping. It sounds as if an insect is caught somewhere in the room. >search for insect No such thing can be seen. >get insect There doesn't seem to be much utility in fiddling with the pipework. There is a faint sound emanating from some pipework near the south wall. >x pipework Some exposed pipework can be seen along the room's southern wall, from within emanates the faint sound of a cricket's chirping. A faint, shrill sound can be heard from a poorly concealed pipe in the corner. >search it There doesn't seem to be much utility in fiddling with the pipework. >touch it There doesn't seem to be much utility in fiddling with the pipework. There is a faint sound emanating from some pipework near the south wall. >kick it There doesn't seem to be much utility in fiddling with the pipework. There is a faint sound emanating from some pipework near the south wall. >l Room 6A A room that has been stripped almost completely bare - its only pretense at furniture is a small, hard chair thrown off to one side. Its single exit lies to the southwest. Triage rests obediently nearby. >sw Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >e The door to room 6B seems stuck fast - from behind it can be heard the steady drip of water. >s Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage obediently appears. >s Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the north. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >x panel Intricate in its detail, it depicts a series of twenty-four corridors set about a circular room like the spokes of a wheel. Each corridor opens onto six rooms, three on each side, with one exception: a hall at 3 o'clock instead connects to a building labeled "Administration." At the center of the circular room is a keyhole. Beside it is a two-headed arrow, pointing up and down. Beneath the blueprint is a series of buttons: six labeled A through F and one with an inverted triangle from which six small lines emerge. The button labeled 'B' is depressed and glowing. A corridor at twelve o'clock is lit and its eastern room are lit up from beneath, as is the upward head of the two-headed arrow. >x triangle On its face is an inverted triangular shape from which six lines emerge, three to each side. From the gurgling sound emanating from it, the listening tube's terminus has momentarily become submerged. >push it The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more happens. >push a (the A button) /(no)\ The cold again. And a numbness of the hands. And an inability to resist. >get key One cannot take what one already has. >i Carried: a small key labeled 2D The sound of three drips of water falling in quick succession comes floating across the console. >get rod As the rod slides from its home, the floor rumbles for a moment. There is an odd sense of movement. All of the lights on the blueprint go out, then the light beneath the Administration and its connecting corridor flickers back to life. The room seems to have subtly changed. >x panel Intricate in its detail, it depicts a series of twenty-four corridors set about a circular room like the spokes of a wheel. Each corridor opens onto six rooms, three on each side, with one exception: a hall at 3 o'clock instead connects to a building labeled "Administration." At the center of the circular room is a keyhole. Beside it is a two-headed arrow, pointing up and down. Beneath the blueprint is a series of buttons: six labeled A through F and one with an inverted triangle from which six small lines emerge. None of the buttons is currently depressed. The Administration building and its connecting corridor are lit up from beneath, as is the upward head of the two-headed arrow. >push arrow It is fixed in place. >x arrow It sits beside the keyhole at the center of the blueprint, its two arrows pointing up and down. >touch arrow It feels as expected. >push it It is fixed in place. >pull it It is fixed in place. >x tube Each is shaped as a brass pipe which terminates in a horn on either side of the viewer. >listen to tube Nothing unexpected can currently be heard. >l Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the east. Triage rests obediently nearby. >x panel Intricate in its detail, it depicts a series of twenty-four corridors set about a circular room like the spokes of a wheel. Each corridor opens onto six rooms, three on each side, with one exception: a hall at 3 o'clock instead connects to a building labeled "Administration." At the center of the circular room is a keyhole. Beside it is a two-headed arrow, pointing up and down. Beneath the blueprint is a series of buttons: six labeled A through F and one with an inverted triangle from which six small lines emerge. None of the buttons is currently depressed. The Administration building and its connecting corridor are lit up from beneath, as is the upward head of the two-headed arrow. >push a (the A button) The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more happens. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more happens. >e Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the east and the narrow tower to the west. Far below, an intricate set of sub-buildings can be seen, enclosed within the complex's outer wall. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >e Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage silently approaches. >i Carried: a flanged brass rod a small key labeled 2D >ask james about 6 "I don't feel as though I'm qualified to answer that question, sir." James bites his lower lip as he stamps out a set of forms. >ask james about kaballah "I don't know, sir. I don't know." >ask james about kaballah "I don't know, sir. I don't know." James bites his lower lip as he stamps out a set of forms. >ask james about malkuth "I'm afraid I can't help you there." >ask james about numerology "I don't feel as though I'm qualified to answer that question, sir." James taps his fingers nervously. >ask james about brand "He ... he took his own life. I fear the pressures of this place had gotten the better of him. He spent every waking moment here, on his patients, this place. We must be vigilant sir. So easy to get lost here." >ask james about driver "I don't feel as though I'm qualified to answer that question, sir." James bites his lower lip as he stamps out a set of forms. >ask james about hospital "It's seen better days, certainly, sir -- but I must say that I was certainly proud when I was offered this position." >ask him about hooke "I don't feel as though I'm qualified to answer that question, sir." James looks at you nervously. >ask him about statues "That's rather outside my bailiwick, sir." >s Courtyard This walled off area sits at the bottom of a massive staircase which leads into the building to the north. At its base is a sign reading "Bethlehem Hospital - Administration." The outer walls meet here - meeting at the distant gates which sit to the southeast. Flanking the top of the staircase on either side are two colossal statues. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. Triage obediently appears. >n Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >n Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >n No exit lies in that direction. >e No exit lies in that direction. >x phonograph A delicate device, its base is carved from oaken heartwood, bearing a small black plaque which reads "Columbia Phonograph Co., Ltd. of London". Two ivory arms emerging from the base lean inward, firmly grasping a tin cylinder labeled March sixteenth. A brass needle hovers above the cylinder's surface. From the base's back emerges a small, black hornshell speaker, its surface delicately curved. The phonograph is currently switched off. >point at cylinder The emerald eye examines the tin cylinder labeled March sixteenth returning with: CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:RECORDIN G.MEDIUM.FOR.COR RECTLY.OUTFITTED PHONOGRAPH.PART: RECORDED.AUDIO.D IARY.ENTRY=PLAY. IN.PHONOGRAPH... >i Carried: a flanged brass rod a small key labeled 2D >hint [10 hints left]-> Slouching Towards Bedlam is at its heart a mystery, so answering that question is the entire point of the game. [9 hints left]-> Look around. Explore. Experiment. Take things. Read things. [8 hints left]-> The remaining hints are a list of items/locations that might help make things clearer. If you wish outright spoilers, check under the section called "The Logos." [7 hints left]-> [4 hints left]-> "They appear to be of little consequence." [3 hints left]-> Sometimes appearances can be deceiving. [2 hints left]-> Not this time, however. They're meaningless. [1 hint left]-> At least *these* papers are. You might find files elsewhere which will be of more use to you. [No more hints are available.] [6 hints left]-> They're nice, aren't they? [5 hints left]-> There doesn't seem to be one in the office, though. [4 hints left]-> Or anywhere in the Hospital, actually. [3 hints left]-> "Contact your local mechanists' to special-order yours today." [2 hints left]-> Unfortunately, Madame Du Monde doesn't have any in stock and she doesn't seem keen on special-ordering one. [1 hint left]-> Guess you'll have to go without. [No more hints are available.] [5 hints left]-> Yes. Yes indeed. Clearly unusual things are afoot. [4 hints left]-> Figuring out precisely what is rather the point of the game. [3 hints left]-> Read the descriptions carefully. Remember them. [2 hints left]-> You may wish to check the "General" subject in the main hint menu for further details. [1 hint left]-> Or the section called "The Logos" for spoilers. [No more hints are available.] [5 hints left]-> Indeed - though it all depends on what you're after. [4 hints left]-> He's rather busy, you see, so he can't really do much at the moment. [3 hints left]-> He will speak with you though, and try to answer any questions you have as best he can. [2 hints left]-> Conversation in Slouching Towards Bedlam is handled by ASK ABOUT or TELL ABOUT . [1 hint left]-> James can converse on a whole range of topics. Perhaps you can get some useful information out of him. [No more hints are available.] [9 hints left]-> James might know. [8 hints left]-> Or perhaps not. That'd be a very large list, and it would be difficult to search through. [7 hints left]-> He might mention that specific numbers of current cases are stored in the Panopticon. [6 hints left]-> Off to the Panopticon, then. It's the Circular Chamber west of the Walkway. [5 hints left]-> Examine the Panopticon controls. Notice anything familiar? [4 hints left]-> That button with the inverted triangle looks familiar, though the lines extending from it might be confusing. [3 hints left]-> Get the Panopticon running, view a room and try pushing the button. [2 hints left]-> If nothing happens, that probably means there's not a patient associated with that room. [1 hint left]-> Check the hints under the Panopticon for finding the important rooms. [No more hints are available.] [8 hints left]-> Many of the rooms are completely unusable -- they're either structurally unsound or have literally collapsed. [7 hints left]-> Three of the rooms are safe enough to enter - A, C, and D. [6 hints left]-> Only one of these seems to have been used recently -- D. [5 hints left]-> Several of the rooms will produce file-codes when the triangular button is pressed -- specifically C, D, and E. [4 hints left]-> Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. Triage sits near the door to the south. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. >[OK, hints revealed that the triangular button would work on some rooms.] To whom were you attempting to speak? >s Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage obediently appears. >w Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the east and the narrow tower to the west. Far below, an intricate set of sub-buildings can be seen, enclosed within the complex's outer wall. Triage silently approaches. >w Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the east. Triage obediently appears. >put rod in keyhole The brass rod slip easily into the keyhole. Then, of its own accord, it begins to turn - first clockwise, then counter-clockwise. The floor rumbles for a moment. There is an odd sense of movement. The light beneath the Administration and its connecting corridor goes out. A corridor at twelve o'clock lights up as the key stops moving, as does its north-east room. The button labeled 'A' clicks down and begins to glow. Horrible. A noise... No... Numbness. Cold. Arms, hands...finger...No...wait - it is 'B' which is glowing, as is the eastern room of the lighted corridor. The room seems to have subtly changed. From the gurgling sound emanating from it, the listening tube's terminus has momentarily become submerged. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more happens. *drip* >push c The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's south-eastern room also lights up. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more seems to happen for a moment, then a sudden clattering is emitted from the console's slot from which emerges a paper tape. A moment or two later, both the noise and the tape stop. Easily torn from the console, it reveals the symbols "4361A2" imprinted on its surface. >push d (the D button) The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's south-western room also lights up. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more seems to happen for a moment, then a sudden clattering is emitted from the console's slot from which emerges a paper tape. A moment or two later, both the noise and the tape stop. Easily torn from the console, it reveals the symbols "F6A142" imprinted on its surface. >push e (the E button) The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's western room also lights up. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more seems to happen for a moment, then a sudden clattering is emitted from the console's slot from which emerges a paper tape. A moment or two later, both the noise and the tape stop. Easily torn from the console, it reveals the symbols "DB9E75" imprinted on its surface. >push f The button clicks downward and begins to glow. On the blueprint, the corridor's north-western room also lights up. The sound of the wind blowing echoes across the room. >push triangle The button clicks downward, then returns to its original state when released. Nothing more happens. The sound of blowing wind echoes across the room, then suddenly is cut short. >listen The sound of the wind blowing emanates from the listening tubes. The sound of blowing wind echoes across the room, then suddenly is cut short. >z Time passes. >z Time passes. >z Time passes. >l Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the north. Triage rests obediently nearby. A faint whistling fills the room. >n Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage obediently appears. >n Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage silently approaches. >nw The lock and handle on the door to 6F seem broken - making it unopenable. The sound of wind faintly blowing can be heard beyond it, though. >kick door That's of no importance. >kick nw That particular item does not respond to violence. >kick 6f That's of no importance. >x 6f That's of no importance. >ne Room 6A A room that has been stripped almost completely bare - its only pretense at furniture is a small, hard chair thrown off to one side. Its single exit lies to the southwest. Triage silently approaches. *chirrup* >listen There is a faint buzzing whine in the air, seeming to come from the southern wall. A faint, shrill sound can be heard from a poorly concealed pipe in the corner. >x pipe Some exposed pipework can be seen along the room's southern wall, from within emanates the faint sound of a cricket's chirping. It sounds as if an insect is caught somewhere in the room. >sw Corridor 6 Were it not for the complex's enclosing walls and ceiling, this hall would certainly be left at the mercy of the elements - no surface stands unbroken or unpitted. The eastern wall is set with a series of labeled doorways: to the northeast lies A, to the east B, to the southeast C. The western wall is much the same: to the southwest is D, to the west E, to the northwest F. The door to the south is labeled simply 'Panopticon'. Triage obediently appears. >s Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the north and the narrow tower to the south. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >get rod No such thing can be seen. >s Circular Chamber The hum of machinery is ever present here, rumbling down into the sub-sonics. Pale white walls encircle a series of engraved circles on the floor, and at the center - like the pupil of some great eye - sits a round console which reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The room's single exit lies to the north. Triage silently approaches. A faint moan drifts across the console. >get rod As the rod slides from its home, the floor rumbles for a moment. There is an odd sense of movement. All of the lights on the blueprint go out, then the light beneath the Administration and its connecting corridor flickers back to life. The room seems to have subtly changed. >e Walkway The slight wind whistles tunelessly against this mesh of steel, which arcs from one massive, opened gate to another. A roof curves far overhead, enclosing both the block-like building to the east and the narrow tower to the west. Far below, an intricate set of sub-buildings can be seen, enclosed within the complex's outer wall. Triage obediently appears. >e Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage obediently appears. James licks his lips nervously. >e Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >set dial to 4 As the dial is set, the pedestal begins to hum and the sound of turning gears can be heard. The tape beneath the panel's glass display suddenly advances from right to left, erasing the display. Then, with a *clunk* it advances one further step ... revealing '4' imprinted on its surface. >set dial to 3 The tape advances a step further. It now reads '43'. >set dial to 6 The tape advances a step further. It now reads '436'. >set dial to 1 The tape advances a step further. It now reads '4361'. >set dial to A The tape advances a step further. It now reads '4361A'. >set dial to 2 The humming of the pedestal suddenly increases in both volume and pitch. The tape spins forward, blanking the display. Then... "SEARCHING..." Another advance. Then... "FILE...FOUND...FILE 4361A2...RETRIEVAL..." The humming ceases, to be replaced with a quick-paced ticking, something like a watch. With an easy grace, six thin rods emerge from the sides of the pyramid. Growing quickly, they reveal a series of articulations along their length as they bend downwards. Within moments, they have revealed an impressive span - making a shape not unlike a spider. The lower set of ... legs? arms? ... pushes lightly against the base, freeing it. It turns with blinding speed and...leaps and... It is gone, running along the walls on four legs, its arms gripping at protrusions and flinging it further ... up ... up... It stops somewhere far above, bracing itself on two legs. Two others reach forward and grip, then pull, opening a distant drawer. Its two arms reach inward, flicking through files with blinding speed. Then, finding what it seeks, it grabs hold and pulls a folder close to its body. It then gently wraps its arms around to hold it tight. Closing the drawer, it quickly makes its way back and... With a final tick, the pyramid settles itself back into the pedestal, holding out the retrieved folder on two articulated rods of brass. The tape advances. It now reads "...RETRIEVAL COMPLETE..." >get file The file easily slides out of the waiting brass arms. Silently, they retract, leaving the pyramid in its original state. >read it The file is fairly brief -- it only covers the single night that Emanuel Barthelemy spent at the Hospital. The papers are written up by Dr. Simon Brand, and apparently there's been a mix-up in the system, as Barthelemy is listed as being kept in the *lower* rather than the upper Corridor 6 -- room C specifically. Barthelemy was being held under suspicion of the murder of two men -- Collard and Moore -- which occurred in Warren Street, Fitzroy-Square. The case is listed as 'customary' - Barthelemy being held under observation for 24 hours to prove or disprove his insanity. Brand's final conclusion is that Emanuel is fit to stand trial. >set dial to f As the dial is set, the pedestal begins to hum and the sound of turning gears can be heard. The tape beneath the panel's glass display suddenly advances from right to left, erasing the display. Then, with a *clunk* it advances one further step ... revealing 'F' imprinted on its surface. >set dial to 6 The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'F6'. >set dial to a The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'F6A'. >set dial to 1 The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'F6A1'. >set dial to 4 The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'F6A14'. >set dial to 2 Once again, the pyramidal thing leaps into action, retrieving a file from a drawer far in the distance. The tape advances. It now reads "...RETRIEVAL COMPLETE..." >get file (File 4361A2: Emanuel Barthelemy) One cannot take what one already has. >get file from pyramid The file easily slides out of the waiting brass arms. Silently, they retract, leaving the pyramid in its original state. >read it Patient Name: Cleve Anderson Age: 23 Physical Description: 5'10" 12 stone, grey eyes, brown hair Distinguishing Marks: small burns on palms and inner forearms, these should heal within a few weeks (possible scarring?). Residence: 1428 Fleet Street, second floor loft Possessions: money (a few pound notes), a key, and identification papers [Please press SPACE.] Arrival Date/Time: 2 - 3 - 55 23:00 Processing: James Houlihan Attending Alienist: Dr. Thomas Xavier Depositing/Transporting: unlisted Patient arrested for disturbance of the peace, neighbors described screaming and raving at all hours. Found comatose in his flat (see personal information). Awoke in transit - mostly compliant though some resistance -- *completely silent*, refused to answer questions. Diagnosis: (for specifics see attached) Disassociative disorder, acute schizophrenia with paranoid tendencies. Does not, however, seem dangerous to himself or others. Prognosis: To be kept under observation until such time as attending alienist decides on further treatment [uncertain of necessary duration]. Departure Date/Time: 10 - 3 - 55 5:50 Status: Deceased [Please press SPACE.] [23:00] Patient initially in comatose state. Initial brief physical examination reveals bruising along the upper arms and temple, and burns on the palms and inner forearms. [23:30] Patient awoken via the use of smelling salts. Immediately catatonic, unresponsive to physical/auditory stimuli. [23:50] Patient *physically* responsive to stimuli, though eyes are unnaturally dilated. Seems to be uncertain where he is. [23:55] Patient allows a more thorough physical examination. Seems to be suffering from symptoms in line with shock, exposure, and exhaustion. Constantly shivering as if from cold. [24:00] Patient still refuses to speak. Examination of tongue/throat reveals that he is physically *capable* of speech. Violently shakes head when asked to do so. Otherwise compliant and nonviolent. Refuses to make *any* noise whatsoever - even to say 'ah' during examination. Possible phobia towards noise? Seems fine with *others* making sound. Bite marks along inside of cheeks and along tongue -- possibly epileptic? [Please press SPACE.] [morning] Placed patient in 6D and have made sure to retain the only key to Corridor 6. D seemed the best choice, all in all, at least it's structurally sound -- several of the rooms have completely collapsed. Patient completely compliant - no struggling whatsoever. He even seemed to calm considerably once led through the Panopticon to his room. Went to sleep almost immediately. [afternoon] Checked on patient early via prism - still sleeping. Went in with breakfast and a sheaf of papers. Asked him if he knew how to read as he ate. He laughed - a short bark. His response to this was immediate -- a look of horror and both hands clamped over his mouth. Brief panic attack - heavy breathing. Calmed down soon after, nodded and gestured for the papers. Communicated via writing for about an hour. Very basic answers to questions -- who are you (name), where do you live (address), what do you do (occupation - a mechanist's assistant). Refused to answer any deeper questions -- simply stared. [Please press SPACE.] [afternoon] Some progress made, as the patient is at least answering questions. From a "conversation" this morning: "Do you know why you're here?" [PENANCE] "What do you mean, penance? Have you done something wrong?" [HUBRIS] "Pride? You think you're here because of your pride, Cleve? What were you proud of?" (Patient stared for a long moment, before writing...) [DOING SOMETHING NO ONE WAS MEANT TO DO] "What is it, Cleve? What was no one meant to do?" (No response.) [night] Made the mistake of leaving a pen in the patient's cell, returned to find a series of words engraved into the wall - it must have taken hours. Confiscated what barely remained of the writing instrument. Patient refuses to talk about what he wrote. [Please press SPACE.] [afternoon] Wheels within wheels within wheels. The patient has built a complex inner world for his delusions to play out within - complex and self-referential. At least part of these delusions revolve around an unseen 'they' - a shadowy group that is paradoxically powerful and weak: powerful enough to control the world, but so weak that Cleve was able to steal their 'secrets' like some modern Prometheus... [THEY HAD ME BROUGHT HERE] "Who did, Cleve?" [THEY CONTROL EVERYTHING] "Who are 'they'? Where are 'they'?" [EVEN HERE. THEY CONTROLLED THE ONE THAT CAME BEFORE YOU UNTIL...] (Patient stopped at this, looked unsure.) "The one that came before me? Who do you mean? They controlled who until what?" (Patient seemed to come to a decision.) [THEY KILLED HIM, YOU KNOW.] (Tried to speak at this but he kept writing, furiously...) [HAD HIM KILLED. I LISTENED. I SPIED. THEY NEVER KNEW I KNEW.] "I don't understand." [THEY'LL CONTROL YOU, TOO, SOON.] "No, they won't Cleve. You can trust me." (Patient almost smiled at this...then seemed struck with fear, melancholy) [NO THEY WON'T] "Right, Cleve." (Patient shook his head, furiously.) [MY HUBRIS MAY KILL US ALL LONG BEFORE THEN.] Someone who came before me. Someone who is dead. Could he possibly be referring to Dr. *Brand*? [Please press SPACE.] [evening] Yesterday's push seems to have been too much. Patient upset most of the day, crying (though still silent). The only event of notice happened when I brought dinner. I placed the tray down and attempted to get his attention, repeating his name several times. This apparently made him angry, and he seemed for a moment about to yell when he caught himself and grabbed a sheet of paper... [NOT CLEVE] "You're not Cleve? Who are you, then?" [NOT WHO] "Not...who? You're not... not *who* are you...? All right. What, then. What are you?" Patient seemed taken aback by this question, thought a long moment, then wrote... [SOMETHING NEW] "And how did this happen? How did you become 'something new'?" A look of utter disgust crossed his face. [INFECTION] The patient refused to answer any more questions. [Please press SPACE.] [morning] Complete change in mood, again -- possible mood swings? Entered patient's cell to find him awake, alert and rather happy to see me. Immediately signaled for pen and paper. Patient proceeded to write a long rambling message - thanking me for my understanding and referring to conversations we never had, but that were eerily probable. Tried explaining to the patient after reading it which portions had happened and which hadn't. Effect of comment was almost immediate -- confusion, sorrow, then understanding. Patient began nodding and almost laughing with a sardonic smile on his face. Asked the patient to explain what had happened -- did he now understand the difference between things that had happened in real life and those scenarios he played out in his mind? The patient stared for a long moment, before writing, almost angrily... [IS YOUR MAGNETOPHONE STILL BROKEN?] "*My* magnetophone? How did you know I was an aetherist, Cleve? I never mentioned it." [A DIFFERENT YOU DID, THEN. TO A DIFFERENT ME.] "A different me, Cleve? Well, then he was wrong - it's not broken, its signal is just not strong enough." (A look of confusion and fear from the patient, then...) [YOU DIDN'T SAY THAT LAST TIME.] "Last time?" (Patient's hand was shaking as he wrote:) [SOMETHING HAS CHANGED.] This exchange broke something in the patient - in a rush, he began writing - trying to explain at least part of his delusions to me in detail. I've tried to summarize my understanding of it as best I can: The patient has - in his mind - somehow come unstuck in time. He speaks of it as if it were a malleable thing. He mentioned several times in his notes to me that he could 'save' moments, as if in a delaying glass. He kept several of them with him, and 'restored' them as he wished, reliving the past/present/future. When asked about the 'different' me he replied that he'd tried restoring several times, changing them -- seeing different paths that resulted. This, he said, was the best he could find. I asked him if he had saved a moment from before this all happened, before his 'infection'. Back when he was simply Cleve. He said he'd 'restarted' from time to time, but that it only took him as far back as his 'new creation'. The patient refused to speak any further of this infection. [Please press SPACE.] Couldn't sleep - patient's remarks kept bounding around inside my head. His internal fantasies have a nature not unlike the new engine-science of fractals - the further I dig into them the more there is to find. Of particular distress is the source of some of his information - I'm certain I never mention my hobbies to him and Dr. Brand's ... unfortunate end has been kept out of the public eye. Ended up in the Panopticon in the early morning hours, with Corridor 6's key in my hand. Wasn't certain at first what I was hearing when I brought up 6D - the system is far from perfect and chamber's acoustics hardly help cut down on the echoes. Looking through the prism revealed patient jerking spastically - almost rhythmically - in his sleep. Patient was definitely speaking, and while some of the words (some English, some Greek, some Latin?) seemed understandable, I believe what I was listening to was, in fact, glossolalia - random phonemes and syllables which my mind tried forming into some meaning. Conclusion: uncertain. Patient is, again, clearly *capable* of speech. Perhaps some form of stroke or mental trauma has caused his speech to become unintelligible and the patient's schizophrenic delusions were built to explain this? [Please press SPACE.] [afternoon] Further investigation and discussion with the patient has resulted in what I believe is a complete structure and definition of his internal world: - Patient has 'changed' and is no longer himself. Patient claims change has resulted from an 'infection.' - Patient is a glossolalic though this is only revealed when he sleeps and cannot keep conscious control. I conclude that that 'change' was the onset of glossolalia, though the source is still unknown. - Patient claims the infection resulted from the 'secrets' he stole from a shadowy group he refers only to as 'them.' I am still uncertain if this group is real and the patient has simply incorporated them into his delusions or if they were created out of whole cloth. - The infection was never intended -- it resulted from his hubris - even 'they' would never use it in such a way. Again, I am uncertain what this represents. Possibility - the patient has associated some action/event that took place in his life concurrent with the onset of glossolalia. - Patient claims the change has caused time to become distorted for him - it is not a linear thing. This may be an metaphor for the internal mental confusion of which the patient's inability to communicate is a symptom. - Patient refuses to discuss or even think on the infection - what it is, where it came from, if it may be catching. When confronted, patient cuts off all communication entering a semi-comatose state, often shaking the head spastically. Possible conclusion: The patient believes that his glossolalia is infectious and will spread if he speaks. This may be the key to his eventual recovery. Perhaps by confronting him with a cognitive dissonance - specifically showing him that my listening to him has not 'infected' me - he can begin to tear down the walls he has built about himself. [Please press SPACE.] [night] Witnessed patient's babbling and spastic movements again -- possibility they may be connected. Patient's speech definitely has a pattern about it which encourages listener's attention and conscious attempt to find meaning. I have decided to attempt a direct intervention/confrontation with the patient tomorrow. On a personal note: I must start taking James' advice and cut down my hours - while observing the patient I noticed that my vision blurred and I experienced a distinct dizziness. When I shook it off I found that I must have fallen asleep at some point - I checked the time, found that several hours had passed. [Please press SPACE.] This will be this case's final note. One would have thought I would have learned. Everything has told me one thing and I have thought another - my hubris is such as to put whatever Cleve thought he ever did to shame. Cleve is dead. Too far, too soon. My initial confrontation accomplished nothing - he refused again to speak of the infection and my interpretation of it. He almost laughed when I told him my theory of glossolalia - writing back that he was quite aware of what it was and that no - that was not his problem. I think that what I did next was out of anger. When I told him about my nightly observations, he was clearly confused - said that he knew that no one had entered the chamber while he slept - that he had checked over several of his 'saved' times. Which is when I explained the Panopticon to him, and pointed out the listening tube hidden in the corner of his cell. All of the blood drained from his face and he once again entered his catatonic state, though this time with much more vehemence. He spasmed and shook. It took a long moment before I realized what was different. He was *speaking* - a single word, yes - but speaking nonetheless. All he said was 'no,' again and again in a constant stream. He looked up as he realized what he was doing and yet he didn't stop for a moment. He clawed at him mouth, bit until it bled, but the word kept coming. And then it contorted in his throat into a snarl as he leapt at me. I am a fool. I had thought him nonviolent, and more - he was still weak, tired. Of course, I'd never had an orderly there with me, for fear of discovery, but I'd never bothered with any restraint whatsoever. Though weak, he was far stronger than he looked. We struggled as I attempted to force myself towards the door and help. I slipped from his grasp and was almost away when he leapt upon me again. I pushed back, kicked with all my might... I didn't understand the sound I heard until I turned around. He didn't stand a chance - his head had hit the side of the metal door with such force that half his brains must have spilled out in a moment. The flicker of life in his eyes continued only for a moment as I dropped to my knees beside him. He only managed to say one thing -- 'too late' -- before it went out forever, leaving a look of horror -- and oddly pity -- on his face. I write this now, and will seal up the file in the archives in some half-hearted penance, such as Cleve sought here. If sometime in the future my sins find me out, then I shall pay for them then. For now, I simply wish to forget all of it... [Please press SPACE.] Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. Triage rests obediently nearby. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. As the file is closed, something nestled within its pages falls to the floor with a loud clang. >l Archives This room is mostly empty space. The farthest wall is lined with gleaming, brass pull-file drawers and seems to go on infinitely in every direction. The entrance to the west opens onto a solid, dusty platform, which allows visitors to stand suspended above the unseen floor. Triage rests obediently nearby. At the end of the platform lies a pedestal topped with a small, inverted onyx pyramid. Also seen is a large iron key. >get key (the large iron key) Taken. >x it An old-fashion rusted iron key. >point at it Triage's beam flickers over the large iron key, briefly, then displays: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >set dial to d As the dial is set, the pedestal begins to hum and the sound of turning gears can be heard. The tape beneath the panel's glass display suddenly advances from right to left, erasing the display. Then, with a *clunk* it advances one further step ... revealing 'D' imprinted on its surface. >set dial to b The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'DB'. >set dial to 9 The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'DB9'. >set dial to e The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'DB9E'. >set dial to 7 The tape advances a step further. It now reads 'DB9E7'. >set dial to 5 Once again, the pyramidal thing leaps into action, retrieving a file from a drawer far in the distance. The tape advances. It now reads "...RETRIEVAL COMPLETE..." >get file from pyramid The file easily slides out of the waiting brass arms. Silently, they retract, leaving the pyramid in its original state. >read it The file is extensive -- covering the ten years Daniel McNaughton was in residence at Bethlehem before his death two years ago. Apparently he was kept in upper-6-E for the first year, then moved to Corridor 22 for the remainder. McNaughton was arrested for the attempted assassination of Prime Minister Peel and the death of Drummond (Peel's private secretary). McNaughton's defense stated that he was under the delusion of being persecuted by the Tories in his native Glasgow who, he claimed, "compelled him" to act. The case, of course, became the first famous legal test for acquittal by reason of insanity. Victoria's response was to order the court to develop a stricter test for insanity - which lead to the now-standing "McNaughton Rule." Most of the later notes are by Superintendent Simon Brand - soliloquies on the McNaughton Rule and its effects on both the legal system and the psychological profession. >w Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >ask james about cleve "Already in the grave, I believe sir. I know nothing else about him, I've not looked at any of his files, per your instructions." James searches under his desk a moment for a lost pen. >ask james about mcnaughton "Of the infamous 'McNaughton Rule?' He was a bit before my time, sir." >ask james about barthelemy "I don't like to judge the patients, Doctor. That's in God's hands. But...he was a cold man, if you ask me. A cold, empty man." James looks at you curiously, as if searching for something in your eyes. >n Office A massive cedar desk, well-polished and worn, looks elegantly out-of-place among the chaos. Papers, files, and books cover nearly every flat surface in the room. There is a phonograph on the table near the window. Triage silently approaches. >s Lobby The walls and floor are a clinical white tile and marble. However, the dim lights set above this echoing space hiss and pop fitfully, giving the small maze of desks and workspaces within a tarnished, decaying look. A set of solid gates lie opened and unlocked to the east and west. A small corridor runs northward and from the south, the bright light of day is visible through a set of glass doors. James sits behind his desk, nervously working. Triage silently approaches. James licks his lips nervously. >s Courtyard This walled off area sits at the bottom of a massive staircase which leads into the building to the north. At its base is a sign reading "Bethlehem Hospital - Administration." The outer walls meet here - meeting at the distant gates which sit to the southeast. Flanking the top of the staircase on either side are two colossal statues. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. Triage silently approaches. >reggie, 1428 fleet street The driver gestures into the cab's interior, waits a moment, then nudges his horse forward with a clicking noise and a shake of the reins. /(distancespacetimefurthertouchmore)\ In the shadow of the cab's interior, the cold comes once again. /(growlearnreachseedexchangeexpand)\ "What's that? Sounded strange there for a moment, you did." /(dividecopycopyonemanymanyone)\ Vibrations...passing through the cold into the surround air - escaping as...sound? /(yessuccessmoremore)\ As Reggie pulls the cab to a stop, he calls down. "What was that you said, ser? Sounded like something foreign. Never could understand why English folks can't stick to the Queen's English. That fancy talk always hurt my ears. Bit silly if you ask me... unless...well, if you want to dance with the Green Fairy that is of course your business, ser." Smithfield Market (in the hansom cab) While this is merely the outskirts of the Market, its presence still threatens to overwhelm the senses -- the smell of an abattoir, the din of a thousand voices shouting, the sight of masses of humanity talking, shopping, selling. The only quiet in the din lies southward, towards Fleet Street. >[Hey, I'm infecting more people. Excellent. ;-] To whom were you attempting to speak? >out Exited. Triage gracefully climbs out of the cab beside. Smithfield Market While this is merely the outskirts of the Market, its presence still threatens to overwhelm the senses -- the smell of an abattoir, the din of a thousand voices shouting, the sight of masses of humanity talking, shopping, selling. The only quiet in the din lies southward, towards Fleet Street. Triage rests obediently nearby. A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently. >s 1428 Fleet Street Set off to one side of the Market, this area is reserved for a myriad variety specialist shops - uniform clothiers, engine-programmers, fortune-tellers. The largest, set on the south side of the street, is decorated with a gaudy sign which reads "Du Monde's - Mechanist of Repute Since 1803." Along the same building - to the southeast - lies a small door which reads, simply, "1428." Triage obediently appears. >se Side Corridor This narrow, dusty corridor runs parallel to the shop beside it and contains nothing more than a rickety staircase leading up and down and a small door leading west. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >u Cunningly extending and contracting its wheels, Triage easily follows up the stairs... Top of Stairs The stairs end here at a rickety door labeled "1428 - Attic Loft" leading eastward. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >e The attic door is in the way. >unlock door [What do you want to unlock the attic door with?] >iron The attic door is now unlocked. >e The attic door is in the way. >open door The attic door opens. >e Attic Flat A tiny flat with barely enough room for a small sink and tub to one side, a living area in the center, and a bed to one side. Triage silently approaches. >x bed An old, sour-smelling thing with twisted sheets. Beneath it, the planks seem misplaced. >move planks Beneath the planks is a puzzle box, about the size of a book. >get box The box slides easily out of the hole. >point at it Triage's emerald searches the puzzle box, then... CAT:NONLIVING.TO OL.UTIL:STORAGE. PART:COMPLEX.MEC ANISM.DETECTED.E NGRAVING+WRITING =KABBALAH?TREEOF LIFE/YGGDRASIL?B UTTONS=SEPHIROTH The mechanism clatters for a moment, making connections, then... SEPHIROTH+KABBAL AH+MACHINE=CYPHE RIST.!.POSSIBLE. CONNECTION.CYPHE R="MALKUTH.IS.IN KETHER"-SOLUTION =MALKUTH,KETHER, KETHER,MALKUTH?! >read it It is approximately the size of a large bound book. It is a puzzle box of some kind for while it seems to have a seam along its side, there is no way to open or unlock it. Its top is inscribed with a beautiful engraving of a tree. >x tree The tree is huge, covering the whole of the whole of the box. Its roots trail downwards, into a dull red glow while its upper branches are bathed in a white light. A series of raised buttons overlays the tree, each with a word inscribed on it. Generally, from top to bottom they read: Kether, Binah, Chokmah, Gevurah, Chesed, Hod, Tipareth, Netzach, Yesod, Malkuth >push malkuth The button depresses with a slight 'click.' Nothing more happens. >push kether The button depresses with a slight 'click.' Nothing more happens. >push kether The button depresses with a slight 'click.' Nothing more happens. >push malkuth The button depresses with a slight 'click.' Nothing more happens for a moment, then the seam of the box opens slightly. The box appears to be unlocked and openable now. >open box The puzzle box opens, revealing a letter, a diary and a primitive copy of a key. >read letter Folded but unsealed, it was apparently never sent. It reads: Brothers: Yes, I call you Brothers, though due to my age and alleged lack of knowledge you have denied me entrance into your Order. But as Seneca said, Nullum saeculum magnis ingeniis clausum est. I am proud to offer you indisputable proof that my generation is no exception. As you must well know by now, I discovered the existence and nature of your enclave during my time at University. Excited by tenets so similar to my own: the celebration of intellect, the recognition of information as an entity rather than an idea, the embrasure and development of new technologies to unlock the mysteries of the Universe itself, I left my feeble schooling, gathered my few worldly possessions and came to study at your collected feet. But trapped in your antiquated and outmoded ways, clinging more to superstition and myth than logic and reason - you refused me. Oh, you commended my 'ability to solve puzzles' and patted me on the head like a dog that returned a thrown ball. You allowed me to work for one of your lesser number, mindlessly churning out one insignificant apparatus after another - a mere journeyman in your archaic system. Undeterred, I remained near by, studying where I could, observing in secret and working towards one goal: proving my worth and value to you. Tonight I have the rare and singular privilege to tell you that not only have a proved, beyond doubt or measure, my value. I have exceeded you. I have succeeded where you have failed, and I have gone further than you ever dared dream. I have leapt the Sephinroth in one bound, from Malkuth to Kether. Kai theos en ho logos. I have heard that Word, Brothers - echoing across eternity. I have touched the mind of God - of Information pure and unsullied by the mere mind of Man. My contact was brief, but glorious. The brevity of it was, I'm sure, due to the crude and simple nature of your mechanisms. The resulting damage was, of course, regrettable, but once I relate to you the breadth and wonder of my experience, I think you will agree: exitus acta probat. I eagerly await your response, Brothers: of when we shall meet to discuss my entry to the Order, and our ascendance upon the wings of this discovery towards a transcendent future. Veritas Lux Mea, My Brothers. Cleve G. Anderson Scientist, Cypherist >point at letter The machine analyzes the letter before replying: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >read diary Once leather bound and elegant stitched, the journal looks as though it has seen better days. Some pages have been scribbled over to the point of illegibility, while others have manic messages scrawled over the neat, deliberate hand originally recorded there. Many pages have been removed entirely... [MORE] I have made a copy Du Monde's basement key. It is primitive, but it will serve. I have continued to listen in on their little meetings, but having actual access to the equipment below will make the vast difference between theory and practice. She has mentioned the shop will be closed shortly for her little excursion to the countryside. That will be the time to move. They have their fingers in every pie imaginable, it would seem. I heard them speak last night of some that had come close to discovering their secrets and what must "be done about them". So many secrets, so little actual learning... [Please press SPACE.] How full of themselves they are, their workspace so neatly arrayed in rows. I see now how much of their talk was simply that. They have made a most holy calling into a social club - a place of dilettantes and bored businessmen with a philosophical and mechanical bent. They have performed their ceremonies for so long that they no longer understand their true meanings. They have forgotten how to reach their sworn goals. I shall change that. My calculations are almost complete. Pages upon pages of equations and diagrams fill every corner of my room. I have taken to connecting the engines in the shop together after hours, running my own scenarios and simulations. It will work. It must. [Please press SPACE.] I have seen the face of God. How powerful, then, their little engines - to be able to rend the veil of the Temple to reveal the Holy of Holies beyond. It was with an unnatural calm that I set the gears and knobs, aligning the energy just as my calculations demanded. It was as though my whole being knew all my toil and effort had not been in vain. I have not the words to express the joy that surged through me as I flicked the final switch. The hole appeared slowly - so slow that at first I did not understand it to be a hole. The air above the pedestal warped subtly, the air bending the light as if it were a lens. Then, the warp became a bend, a break... I cannot explain it, but it was in that moment that I knew I was looking onto a place fundamentally different than the universe I knew. Under my breath, I whispered the Order's motto ... for that is what had come to be. My words hung in the air a moment, drifting across the opening... ...to be echoed against the far wall of Creation. Language fails me. The words...the words! They echoed yes, they returned ... but they were not unchanged. Time stretched and pulled like the space above the pedestal and I knew in that moment my words had touched...The Word -- the...Logos. [Please press SPACE.] That is all I can call it - what else can one call language given sentience, an idea that breathes, a thought that thinks itself? The whole of the ... space? universe? ... beyond the rift was both its home and itself, part and whole. And then, in a joyous, horrible moment -- God, the Universe, the Logos...awoke. Linear time fell apart. A second, an hour, a year, an eternity. I cannot say how long it took, for the past and present and future were as one within it. The Logos had always been and would always be and my reaching out to it in this one moment was as a grain of sand on an infinite beach. And yet, it responded. In that moment, it *heard* me. [Please press SPACE.] The response was immediate and incomprehensible. I ... was Spoken. I did not listen, I did not hear...I, myself, was spoken. I remember it now as vibrations - echoing across the air, across time - and across myself. I carried them as waves, as if I were made from water, or aether. They penetrated me, passed through me. In that eternal moment, I and Logos touched and were one... And then the sparks, the smoke. The machines, long overloaded, broke down one by one in a shrieking of spinning gears and twisting metal. Axles broke, machinery shifted and then, instantly collapsing upon itself, the door I had opened slammed shut. The force of it lifted me upward, flinging me across the room to the cellar's far wall, and for a long time I knew nothing more. I awoke to find my hands and arms mysteriously burnt, the back of my head throbbing. I reached to touch it and my hand came back damp with blood. The engines were nothing more than so much melting slag. Of the hole, there was no sign. Before I dragged myself up the stairs, I once more whispered the words that had brought Malkuth and Kether into the same space and thought I heard the faintest ghost of an echo ... a wash of a ripple across the air. But the rest was silence, and smoke, and burning metal. [Please press SPACE.] I have healed well enough, in body - but my mind is a broken thing. It races, thinking on what has happened, running through each tiny detail over and over in the hopes of understanding some small part of what has happened. I have written the Order a letter. I shall leave it for Du Monde to find -- I am sure she shall have words for me when she sees the state of her cellar. But once I explain ... show what I have done -- they will come to understand that in one moment, the world has forever changed, and all of our places in it as well... [Please press SPACE.] I have not left the flat since I awoke. I stumble about, pace endlessly. My mind feels more fragmented with every moment. Often I awake not having remembered sleeping or passing out - perhaps I am sleepwalking? My body, too, works against me - I feel sudden chills, numbness in my legs, my hands. What is wrong with me? [Please press SPACE.] I awoke, screaming -- uncertain of why. I do not remember my dreams. How long was I raving? The flat is in a shambles - things tossed every which way. What has ... It... what is this? What is th Language...words...but words I have never heard and cannot understand. My throat is stripped dry. Is this the Logos? Still with me? Does it speak the language of the angels through my lips? But if this is as angels speak, why am I so afraid? [Please press SPACE.] Everything has fallen apart. My mind, my body, time, the world... I am beginning to understand. I have destroyed my notes. Man was never meant to...this experiment must never be repeated if humanity is to survive. I have burned all my research, although it pained me to do so. The noise in my head grows louder. The words...the words... they never stop coming. [Please press SPACE.] Quam terribilis est haec hora. How fearful is this hour indeed. I understand all. I (if I can still lay claim to I) have moved through time, backwards and forwards...I have tried every way imaginable to make it not so. Once...once I tried to make it finally so. I said...the words. How ironic, that the Order's hubris should be so. Our motto is now like the rays of the sun, melting the wings of poor Icarus as he plunges into the sea. Curse those words forever. May no man speak them again. May no man ever speak again. I know what I must do. They have come for me - as they have come before, as they will come again. I will let them take me to Bedlam. I will let them lock me away from the world so that what is within me shall never escape. Poor Xavier -- my sweet, kind keeper. How sad your eyes look. But you will never understand, will you? You will scribble your notes and think on your theories, but it will all come to the same end. You shall keep me in a tiny cell for the rest of my days, and I shall hope that that shall be penance enough. They are battering at the door now. I shall hide this and wait for them. May whatever god there is have mercy upon my soul. [Please press SPACE.] Attic Flat A tiny flat with barely enough room for a small sink and tub to one side, a living area in the center, and a bed to one side. Triage rests obediently nearby. >point at diary Triage's beam flickers over the diary, briefly, then displays: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >i Carried: a puzzle box (which is open) a letter a diary a primitive copy of a key File DB9E75: Daniel McNaughton a large iron key File F6A142: Cleve Anderson File 4361A2: Emanuel Barthelemy a flanged brass rod a paper tape labeled DB9E75 a paper tape labeled F6A142 a paper tape labeled 4361A2 a small key labeled 2D >x copy Heavy and unwieldy, its rough surface gives evidence that this key is, in fact, a copy. >get copy Taken. >l Attic Flat A tiny flat with barely enough room for a small sink and tub to one side, a living area in the center, and a bed to one side. Triage rests obediently nearby. >x sink Steam tubes snake through the living area to the tub and basin and from there into the wall. The ceramic is cracked and worn to a dull gray color. >x tub Steam tubes snake through the living area to the tub and basin and from there into the wall. The ceramic is cracked and worn to a dull gray color. >w Top of Stairs The stairs end here at a rickety door labeled "1428 - Attic Loft" leading eastward. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >d Cunningly extending and contracting its wheels, Triage easily follows down the stairs... Side Corridor This narrow, dusty corridor runs parallel to the shop beside it and contains nothing more than a rickety staircase leading up and down and a small door leading west. Triage obediently appears. >d Cunningly extending and contracting its wheels, Triage easily follows down the stairs... Bottom of Stairs The stairs end here at a solid metal door labeled "Basement - Private" leading northward. Triage obediently appears. >unlock door with copy The basement door is now unlocked. >e No exit lies in that direction. >s No exit lies in that direction. >w No exit lies in that direction. >n The basement door is in the way. >open door The basement door opens. >n Basement A dim, cavernous room - it must run the length of the building above - overrun with dampness and the choking smell of smoke. Its rough-carved rock walls are lined with all manner of aetheric and analytical devices in varying states of disrepair - most melted to slag. Steam pipes crawl over the walls and machines like spider webs, disappearing upwards into the ceiling, into the darkness. Where broken, they leak steam and drip water into growing pools upon the floor. The bottom of a staircase is visible to the south. The center of the chamber is dominated by a low, round pedestal. A large, damaged book lies on the ground, slowly sinking into a pool of water. Triage silently approaches. >get book The book closes with a dull thud as it is lifted. The strong smell of mildew fills the air. >point at it The emerald eye examines the large hardbound book returning with: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >readit That is not a recognized verb. >read it The heavy, brown leather cover has been largely darkened to near black from water damage, and black scorch marks fan like a sunburst from the book's spine to the outer edges. On the front cover, a tree with ten branches. The design is composed of hundreds of gold-leaf 1s and 0s rather than lines. The pages stick in large clumps. Even when turned carefully, they pull out easily, reverting to a sticky pulp. Those pages that do keep their place are difficult to read. The dark green ink has run, the text melting towards the bottom of the page. Only snatches of text are still legible: "...the ABTASH of the Hebrews, the Scytale of the Greeks, Caesar's cypher; long have they been used to maintain the secrets of Magical Rites, clandestine endeavors and Political Intrigue. But these are ciphers created by men who believed in myths, for the benefit of men believing in myths. The Initiated Mind recognizes that information is more than just words on a page, it is secreted in the world around us; the great Symmetry of Nature demonstrates that all Life is encoded. Unlocking this Code is our Duty and Right as Humans, made Masters by God, to Understand the..." "...itself, Mysticism should not be discounted. We understand that Myths and Legends are often the misguided interpretation of the uninitiated to understand the Great Truths. Particular insight may be found in the Vedas, the Scriptures, and the sacred teachings of the Hebrews, whose Qabbalah reflect our own search for Life's Origin. It is from the Qabbalah that we take our insignia, the Tree of Life. It is unknown..." "...to advances in Technology, we are able to analyze and decipher these hidden codes with greater speed and alacrity..." >l Basement A dim, cavernous room - it must run the length of the building above - overrun with dampness and the choking smell of smoke. Its rough-carved rock walls are lined with all manner of aetheric and analytical devices in varying states of disrepair - most melted to slag. Steam pipes crawl over the walls and machines like spider webs, disappearing upwards into the ceiling, into the darkness. Where broken, they leak steam and drip water into growing pools upon the floor. The bottom of a staircase is visible to the south. Triage rests obediently nearby. The center of the chamber is dominated by a low, round pedestal. >x pedestal A low stone pedestal, about waist high. In its shattered center of smooth, smoked glass, the faint shape of a tree can be made. Carved about the surface of it are the words: "NOTHING WILL BE RESTRAINED FROM THEM WHICH THEY HAVE IMAGINED". >[yay Babel!] That is not a recognized verb. >point at it A small beam of green light lashes out over the pedestal as Triage's screen lights up: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION > I beg your pardon? >l Basement A dim, cavernous room - it must run the length of the building above - overrun with dampness and the choking smell of smoke. Its rough-carved rock walls are lined with all manner of aetheric and analytical devices in varying states of disrepair - most melted to slag. Steam pipes crawl over the walls and machines like spider webs, disappearing upwards into the ceiling, into the darkness. Where broken, they leak steam and drip water into growing pools upon the floor. The bottom of a staircase is visible to the south. Triage rests obediently nearby. The center of the chamber is dominated by a low, round pedestal. >x pipes Many of the pipes are in danger of collapse, trickles of steam eating away at the walls and floor. >touch pedestal It feels as expected. >l Basement A dim, cavernous room - it must run the length of the building above - overrun with dampness and the choking smell of smoke. Its rough-carved rock walls are lined with all manner of aetheric and analytical devices in varying states of disrepair - most melted to slag. Steam pipes crawl over the walls and machines like spider webs, disappearing upwards into the ceiling, into the darkness. Where broken, they leak steam and drip water into growing pools upon the floor. The bottom of a staircase is visible to the south. Triage rests obediently nearby. The center of the chamber is dominated by a low, round pedestal. >search pipes Best to leave that alone. >x devices Intricate, huge devices, with an overwhelming number of switches, dials, and displays. But everywhere there are the signs of disaster; cases rent into pieces, displays broken and misaligned, knobs split in two, switches missing, and long rolls of paper tape piled loosely on the floor. >search it Useless. There is no power and it is unlikely any of the devices would work at all in their current condition. >l Basement A dim, cavernous room - it must run the length of the building above - overrun with dampness and the choking smell of smoke. Its rough-carved rock walls are lined with all manner of aetheric and analytical devices in varying states of disrepair - most melted to slag. Steam pipes crawl over the walls and machines like spider webs, disappearing upwards into the ceiling, into the darkness. Where broken, they leak steam and drip water into growing pools upon the floor. The bottom of a staircase is visible to the south. Triage rests obediently nearby. The center of the chamber is dominated by a low, round pedestal. >point at devices The machine analyzes the machines before replying: CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI STED.UTIL:NOT.AP PLICABLE.PART:NO NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR RENT.SYSTEM.STOR E.REQUIRE.ADDITI ONAL.INFORMATION >s Bottom of Stairs The stairs end here at a solid metal door labeled "Basement - Private" leading northward. Triage silently rolls to a stop. >u Cunningly extending and contracting its wheels, Triage easily follows up the stairs... Side Corridor This narrow, dusty corridor runs parallel to the shop beside it and contains nothing more than a rickety staircase leading up and down and a small door leading west. Triage trundles patiently along beside. >knock on door That is not a recognized verb. >open door It seems to be locked. >x shop No such thing can be seen. >e No exit lies in that direction. >w The side door is in the way. >n 1428 Fleet Street Set off to one side of the Market, this area is reserved for a myriad variety specialist shops - uniform clothiers, engine-programmers, fortune-tellers. The largest, set on the south side of the street, is decorated with a gaudy sign which reads "Du Monde's - Mechanist of Repute Since 1803." Along the same building - to the southeast - lies a small door which reads, simply, "1428." Triage silently approaches. >s Du Monde's The shop is dark, and crowded with haphazardly stacked, yet neatly organized piles of machinery. To the south, there is a worn wooden counter, cracked with age and covered with innumerable nicks, scratches, and dark burn marks. Behind the counter are rows and rows of drawers, labeled in some arcane script. The faint scent of gas clings to the walls. The shop's show window and door look out on Fleet Street to the north. A second door lies behind the counter to the east. A woman leans over the counter, working on something with intense concentration. Triage trundles patiently along beside. It comes easier this time, the coldness frightening in its familiarity. /(yesmoreyesplantquestfurthergrowyes)\ It is faster, too - somehow more...efficient? /(soundnoisevoicecallinggreetinggrasping)\ A trickle becoming a break becoming a rush. /(expansionaugmentationincreasematurity)\ It finishes its unfolding, collapsing backwards, inwards. /(complexityinvestigationmoreyesmore)\ The woman looks up suddenly, her eyes huge ovals magnified five times their normal size by monocles squinted tightly in each eye. She opens them wide, releases the monocles and drops them into an already bulging shirt pocket. She straightens, wiping her hands on a on a dirty rag. Her greasy shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and ill-fitting, thick trousers pool and disappear into the tops of her workman's boots. She smiles thinly. "So sorry, sir. I didn't catch what you said. Sometimes when I'm concentrating that hard, everything outside my head sounds like gibberish." >ask woman about crele "I'm afraid I can't help you there." >ask woman about cleve She give a short, barking laugh. "You know about him, do you? Clever boy, that one. Too clever by half. Always knew he'd come to a bad end." Du Monde searches futilely behind the counter for something. >tell woman about cleve "I always suspected there was something off about him." >g "Wish I could tell you he'll be missed, sir. But he won't. He was trouble since the day I took him in." >g Her hands work diligently on the device cradled therein. "Tragic." Du Monde sighs. >g "Hmmm...well, death happens, just like life." >g "Nothing more to say, is there?" >ask woman about cleve "What a pompous little thing he was -- came to this cesspool with nothing to his name but a handful of books and an overabundance of 'education.' Not a dime in his pocket or a useful skill. I must have had a feminine moment of weakness..." She smiles wryly. "I felt badly for him, took him in like a lost dog." Du Monde clucks her tongue impatiently. >g "Made him my assistant, even let him the room upstairs. Thought I could teach him something. But he thought he already knew it all. Didn't want to learn. Then he went and destroyed..." She stops, frowns. "Well, he made a mess of the shop *and* the apartment while I was away on holiday. My fault for trusting, I suppose." Du Monde finishes whatever she was working on. From behind the counter she produces another small piece of machinery and begins to fiddle with it. >g "That's all I'll say -- other than I'm not sure in the end which of us was the bigger fool." >g "That's all I'll say -- other than I'm not sure in the end which of us was the bigger fool." >show diary to woman (first taking the diary) Du Monde briefly glances over it, her smile tightening slightly. "Fascinating little myths these boys are capable of," she concedes. Quick as a flash, her hand snakes beneath the counter, returning to slam a tiny brass object onto