>n I'm glad to see you're feeling ready to face the wider world. Here's what we think we need to do: Get my backpack from the cinema Retrieve your remaining possessions from locker at hostel Meet your colleague Slango at Counterfeit Monkey [To go over our current goals, type GOALS at any time.] Fair Today is Serial Comma Day, one of the biggest holidays on the island, and a time when half the police force is off duty while the other half is over-extended. The perfect day to make an escape. The square at the center of town is therefore crowded with people, and there's an overpowering smell of artificial butter and spun sugar. We are surrounded by kiosks for spell-offs, face-painting, a wheel to spin for prizes, and other activities best for small children or the very easily amused. The Fair continues with a selection of carnival games to the west, and with open park to the north and east. [Your score has gone up by three points and is now four.] You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >* OK, first set of training wheels are off! You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >goals Here's what we think we need to do: Get my backpack from the cinema Retrieve your remaining possessions from locker at hostel Meet your colleague Slango at Counterfeit Monkey [Remember that you can move towards your goal locations with GO TO...] You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >* cinema and hostel are right here, looks like, but the Monkey is farther You will need to be more specific. Try typing LOOK to get a description of your surroundings. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >l Fair The square at the center of town is crowded with people, and there's an overpowering smell of artificial butter and spun sugar. We are surrounded by kiosks for spell-offs, face-painting, a wheel to spin for prizes, and other activities best for small children or the very easily amused. The Fair continues with a selection of carnival games to the west, and with open park to the north and east. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >smell It smells like candy and popcorn, with a note of booze and another note of sweaty crowd. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >x kiosks They're the usual tacky affairs of brightly painted fiberboard and cheap prizes. I don't see any likely to help us today, however. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >x painting I can't see what you're talking about. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >x wheel It's the sort of game where you spin the wheel for a prize. No one seems to be manning or using it any more, though; perhaps the supply of prizes has run out. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel a strong spin. The pointer lands on BLUE RASPBERRY LOLLIPOP. Sadly, no one is around to award this prize (which is probably why we were allowed to spin it without having some sort of ticket first). You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another energetic spin. The pointer lands on FREE POSTCARD. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another hard spin. The pointer lands on SET OF PAINT. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another energetic spin. The pointer lands on HOT AIR, which appears to be the most common reward. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another strong spin. The pointer lands on STUFFED DONKEY. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another hard spin. The pointer lands on HOT AIR again. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another energetic spin. The pointer lands on HOT AIR yet again. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another strong spin. The pointer lands on BLUE RASPBERRY LOLLIPOP. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another hard spin. The pointer lands on BLUE RASPBERRY LOLLIPOP. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another energetic spin. The pointer lands on HOT AIR yet again. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >spin wheel We give the wheel another strong spin. The pointer lands on STUFFED OCTOPUS. Too bad no one is around to award the prize. Of course, if someone were, they'd be charging to spin. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >* ooh fun That's not a verb I recognize. You can pick things up when you see them, like this: TAKE THE WHEEL. >take wheel Well done. Now you'll get a message to tell you whether you succeeded in picking up something: We pick up the wheel. The wheel is far too large for us to carry, and falls onto the ground. To save your current position, type SAVE. RESTORE allows you to bring back a game you have previously saved. >* makes sense That's not a verb I recognize. The map and compass can be switched off by typing MAP OFF. If you change your mind later, switch them back on with MAP ON. >save Ok. >remove l from wheel We reset the device to l. The device buzzes, puzzled. It is unable to create anything recognizable called "whee". >* aww That's not a verb I recognize. >remove w from wheel We reset the device to w. We wave the W-remover at the wheel and produce a heel, severed (because after all it would be beyond the parameters of the change to generate the person whose body part it is). It is only moderately gory, and most locals get used to seeing this kind of thing as a prank from six-year-olds every halloween. Still, it might startle a tourist. >* er I was imagining a shoe, but sure Please rephrase your command to start with an imperative verb, like LOOK. >take heel We take the heel. Calloused and leathery, a gruesome souvenir of years of unhappy shoe-wearing. >score You have earned 4 points: 1 point for using the letter-remover 3 points for passing through the temporary barrier You have not yet removed a, b, c, d, f, g, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, v, y, or z from anything. >* oh, the letters are like achievements You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >eat heel The heel wouldn't agree with us even if we were feeling better. >l Fair The square at the center of town is crowded with people, and there's an overpowering smell of artificial butter and spun sugar. We are surrounded by kiosks for spell-offs, face-painting, and other activities best for small children or the very easily amused. The Fair continues with a selection of carnival games to the west, and with open park to the north and east. >remove h I can't see what you're talking about. >remove h from heel We reset the device to h. With a distinct whiff of a sort of oily, fishy tang, the heel turns into an eel. Manifested dead, because out of its proper element, the eel nonetheless gleams with silver and stripes. >x eel Manifested dead, because out of its proper element, the eel nonetheless gleams with silver and stripes. >x stripes I can't see what you're talking about. >x scales I can't see what you're talking about. >l Fair The square at the center of town is crowded with people, and there's an overpowering smell of artificial butter and spun sugar. We are surrounded by kiosks for spell-offs, face-painting, and other activities best for small children or the very easily amused. The Fair continues with a selection of carnival games to the west, and with open park to the north and east. >* well i feel like our work here is done You will need to be more specific. Try typing LOOK to get a description of your surroundings. >w w Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. I assume you've noticed, though, the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. Beside the word-balance is a barker in a blue suit, the same regulation blue used by the Bureau of Orthography. The barker is also holding a tube. "One tube of restoration gel goes to the first person who can unbalance the word-balance!" cries the barker, glance sweeping the crowd. I'd like to ask what the gel is worth, ask whether the game is rigged, or ask whether anyone ever wins. [Type TOPICS to repeat current conversation topics and suggest new ones.] >x barker He is dapper in his suit, as though he might belong to an especially vivid barber-shop quartet. >x gel We can't get a good look at the tube from this position, but it definitely appears to be authentic restoration gel ? valuable stuff, I recall you saying. (Or were you just trying to impress me?) >* I guess that's how we get letters back after overzealous removal That does not seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. I assume you've noticed, though, the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. Beside the word-balance is a barker in a blue suit, the same regulation blue used by the Bureau of Orthography. The barker is also carrying a tube. >x hammer It's one of those contests where you have to hammer something so that something else flies up and rings a bell. I don't have time for that kind of silly macho display. >x balloons All stapled in place and ready to be attacked. >remove n from balloons We reset the device to n. The device buzzes, puzzled. It is unable to create anything recognizable called "balloos", or perhaps it just doesn't have sufficient power to handle the balloons. "Step up and try your hand at the fabulous word-balance!" calls the barker appealingly. We want to ask what the gel is worth, ask whether the game is rigged, or ask whether anyone ever wins. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. I assume you've noticed, though, the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. Beside the word-balance is a barker in a blue suit, the same regulation blue used by the Bureau of Orthography. The barker has a tube. >x plane Ridiculous little styrofoam gliders with dart-noses. No use to us, anyway. >take plane That's hardly portable. "One tube of restoration gel goes to the first person who can unbalance the word-balance!" cries the barker, glance sweeping the crowd. We could ask what the gel is worth, ask whether the game is rigged, or ask whether anyone ever wins. >* I mean the throwing knives seem handy That's not a verb I recognize. >remove e from planes We reset the device to e. The device buzzes, puzzled. It has tried to create a "styrofoam dart-plan": evidently "plane" is too tightly bound to its modifiers and can't be manipulated separately. Or perhaps it just doesn't have sufficient power to handle the styrofoam dart-plane. "Put the beam out of alignment and win a fabulous prize!" says the barker, holding up a tube. I'm inclined to ask what the gel is worth, ask whether the game is rigged, or ask whether anyone ever wins. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. I assume you've noticed, though, the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. Beside the word-balance is a barker in a blue suit, the same regulation blue used by the Bureau of Orthography. The barker has a tube. >x balance The beam is balanced. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. >x apple Red-cheeked and rosy. >x pear Handsome and green. >ask barker about himself The barker doesn't seem interested in talking about himself. "One tube of restoration gel goes to the first person who can unbalance the word-balance!" cries the barker, glance sweeping the crowd. We could ask what the gel is worth, ask whether the game is rigged, or ask whether anyone ever wins. >ask barker about balance "I know this kind of game," we say, in our most jaded voice. "The scale is probably nailed in place so that it can't tip." One or two of the crowd standing nearby seem impressed by this line of argument. A small boy whispers to his sister to ask whether that could be true. "Nonsense," says the barker angrily. To demonstrate the point, he pushes down on the left pan, and the scales tip and sway. He soon restores them to balance, though. "And don't think that will count for you," he adds. "You have to put them out of balance yourself. No surrogates, substitutes, or alternatives allowed." The sun gleams off the shiny balance pans. "Step up and try your hand at the fabulous word-balance!" calls the barker appealingly. We could ask what the gel is worth or ask whether anyone ever wins. >ask barker about gel "Is the gel very valuable?" we ask. "Is it new, and in good condition? Is the entire tube present?" "Yes, of course, and absolutely," he says, making a gesture as though to show us the gel, but actually not letting us catch more than the label. The bell of the hammering contest clangs. "Put the beam out of alignment and win a fabulous prize!" says the barker, holding up a tube. We could ask whether anyone ever wins. >ask barker whether anyone wins "Does anyone ever win?" we ask. "No one has won today," he says, which is not an answer. The crowd mills around, jostling us. "One tube of restoration gel goes to the first person who can unbalance the word-balance!" cries the barker, glance sweeping the crowd. >ask barker about commas That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask barker about holiday That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask barker about fair That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask barker about atlantis That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask barker about orthography That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask barker about bureau That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >* not sure if we can go off-piste I guess That's not a verb I recognize. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. I assume you've noticed, though, the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left a pear. Beside the word-balance is a barker in a blue suit, the same regulation blue used by the Bureau of Orthography. The barker has a tube. >remove p from pear We reset the device to p. We wave the P-remover at the pear and produce an ear, severed. There is a disgusted gasp from the spectators. The word-balance tilts slowly but inexorably. The barker looks astonished and displeased, except for a fraction of a second when he just noticeably winks. With exaggerated bad grace hands us some restoration gel. "There's your prize. And now this contest is over." He stalks away. [Your score has gone up by three points and is now seven.] >* typo -- "he hands" That's not a verb I recognize. >x gel Unfortunately, there's hardly any gel remaining in the tube. >* d'oh That's not a verb I recognize. >ask barker about gel I don't know what you think you're talking about, because we can't see any such thing here. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. No longer so useful is the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. On the right pan is an apple and on the left an ear. >take apple We take the apple. >take ear We take the ear. Severed. It's not a nice thing to look at. >l Midway Here in front of the pharmacy in the southwestern corner of the town square, various contests have been set up ? a strong-man hammering contest, a contest to see who can burst the most balloons using a styrofoam dart-plane, and so on. No longer so useful is the word-balance, which comes up as high as our hip. Both pans are empty. >x pharmacy There's not much to see, as a shade has been pulled down behind the glass front. I can tell you what's back there, though, if you care: the usual assortment of shampoo and razors and analgesics and burn creams; candy, and also toothpaste; and a costly selection of homeopathic remedies in matching brown bottles. >x toothpaste There's not much to see, as a shade has been pulled down behind the glass front. I can tell you what's back there, though, if you care: the usual assortment of shampoo and razors and analgesics and burn creams; candy, and also toothpaste; and a costly selection of homeopathic remedies in matching brown bottles. >n Church Forecourt This corner of the park, in the lee of the church, has been left free of kiosks and booths. Contrary to the usual rules of cathedral layout, the New Church is oriented toward the north, so we are standing by the flank of the building, though there is an entrance on this side. South and east lead to more of the park; there is a small cinema (where I left my pack) to the north, and the entrance to the New Church is west. >* oh, should be east-facing properly-speaking (Adverbs are almost never necessary. Retrying that as "* oh, should _be east-facing -speaking".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >x church It manages to be austere without seeming in the least modern: the walls are white and the windows clear, but the proportions, the texture of the plaster, the irregular leading between the panes of glass, all come of the age of handmade things. >* let's finish the park first (You can just begin your command with the verb. Retrying that as "* finish park first".) That's not a verb I recognize. >e e Park Center This is a handsome expanse of grass, shaped like a rectangle with rounds cut from the corners, bounded by railings along the north side. There are no stalls and no barkers here, but small children are running around an impressive marble fountain. I gather from the direction of your thoughts that you dislike small children, so I'll restrain myself from trying to communicate with them. >* hmm, OK You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >x grass Deep green and velvety. >x railings Painted railings separate the Park and surrounding pedestrian areas from the private property to the north. Some lipstick advertisements have been hung over the railings. >x ads Over the image of a pouting, lipsticked female, it says: IN EVERY TEMPTRESS THERE IS AN EMPRESS ? MAKE YOURSELF UP TO A T! It's selling Temptress Brand cosmetics, apparently. >remove t from ads We reset the device to t. The device buzzes, puzzled. It has tried to create a "lipsick adverisemens": evidently "advertisements" are too tightly bound to their modifiers and can't be manipulated separately. >x fountain It depicts some horses rising out of the waves, with trident-bearing gods on their backs, and some nymphs overseeing the whole operation. Probably 17th-century, to judge by the excessive number of writhing sculpted figures. The fountain celebrates ? if that's the right word ? the conquest of this island by the Dutch in 1607, it having been a Spanish possession for about 140 years before that. In spite of this the fountain bears not a word of any foreign language, the original Latin or vernacular inscriptions having been long since renovated away. >* ok backstory That's not a verb I recognize. >* maybe we'll get a swapper and can turn this into a mountain (Most connecting and comparative words are not necessary. Retrying that as "* maybe we will get a swapper and can turn into a mountain".) That's not a verb I recognize. >l Park Center This is a handsome expanse of grass, shaped like a rectangle with rounds cut from the corners, bounded by railings along the north side. There are no stalls and no barkers here, but small children are running around an impressive marble fountain. >se Heritage Corner This patch of the town square has been paved over in octagonal bricks and is commonly used for displays of traditional dancing: over-50 women in home-made embroidered aprons, skipping arm-in-arm and jumping over broomsticks. No, there aren't any here now. But trust me. It's an unforgettable sight. Under a bit of shelter in the corner, a diorama table shows scenes from local history, rotated out each week. This week's diorama represents the first sitting of the Committee for the New Orthodox Orthography. The park continues to the north and west; to the east is a backpackers' hostel where you've stayed recently and where you stowed the rest of your important possessions. >* traditional Dutch dances? That's not a verb I recognize. >x diorama The patriotic scene is set against the backdrop of the Bureau's buildings ca. 1895, where the committee first met, but the historians have included a bit of the building exterior to show that the meetings were conducted under army guard. The writing of dictionaries has not always been bloodless. The members and the army are movable, but the rest of the scenery appears to have been hot-glued in place. >x members Mostly men and a few women, sternly dressed and with solemn expressions. >remove b from members We reset the device to b. The device buzzes, puzzled. It is unable to create anything recognizable called "memers". >* too early, I suppose (Adverbs are almost never necessary. Retrying that as "* too , i suppose".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >x army A collection of soldier figurines in blue uniforms. >remove y from army We reset the device to y. We wave the Y-remover at the army and produce an arm, severed. >take arm We get the arm. A girl's arm, by the look of it, amputated neatly at the shoulder joint. The fingernails are painted shell-pink. >* getting a lot of different body parts That's not a verb I recognize. >x nails A girl's arm, by the look of it, amputated neatly at the shoulder joint. The fingernails are painted shell-pink. >l Heritage Corner This patch of the town square has been paved over in octagonal bricks and is commonly used for displays of traditional dancing: over-50 women in home-made embroidered aprons, skipping arm-in-arm and jumping over broomsticks. Under a bit of shelter in the corner, a diorama table shows scenes from local history, rotated out each week. This week's diorama represents the first sitting of the Committee for the New Orthodox Orthography. The park continues to the north and west; to the east is a backpackers' hostel where you've stayed recently and where you stowed the rest of your important possessions. >take members We take the members. >l Heritage Corner This patch of the town square has been paved over in octagonal bricks and is commonly used for displays of traditional dancing: over-50 women in home-made embroidered aprons, skipping arm-in-arm and jumping over broomsticks. Under a bit of shelter in the corner, a diorama table shows scenes from local history, rotated out each week. This week's diorama represents the first sitting of the Committee for the New Orthodox Orthography. The park continues to the north and west; to the east is a backpackers' hostel where you've stayed recently and where you stowed the rest of your important possessions. >* make embers eventually, maybe? (Adverbs are almost never necessary. Retrying that as "* make embers , maybe".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >n That way will take us away from the cinema, and I'd like to retrieve our things first. >* OK, let's see if we can cross off these first two goals in this update (You can just begin your command with the verb. Retrying that as "* ok, see whether we can cross off these first two goals in this update".) (Most connecting and comparative words are not necessary. Retrying that as "* ok, see whether we can cross off these first two goals in update".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >e Hostel I take it this is where you stayed from the time you got to town until our operation. I would have expected that someone with your credentials would have been able to afford something better: The Fleur d'Or, maybe? But maybe you thought this was lower-profile. At least it's clean and doesn't smell funny. The desk attendant is sort of eying us. She doesn't recognize you ? us ? but that's a good thing, I think. Discarded in one corner is Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis. There's a spiral staircase that leads up to the dormitory rooms. You can LOOK UP interesting subjects IN books, if you like. >smell We smell nothing unexpected. >x attendant She's dressed in a kind of casual-hippy way: nose ring, poofy blouse that doesn't fit quite right. >x ring It's silver and reasonably discreet. >x blouse White cotton with little ribbons on it. I hate that kind of frilly nonsense. >* Alex has some sartorial issues You will need to be more specific. Try typing LOOK to get a description of your surroundings. >remove b from blouse We reset the device to b. The blouse flickers and there is a brief image of a louse in its place, but a legal override kicks in: a B-remover is hardware-crippled to prevent generating any living creature. Achievement accomplished: Finished tutorial mode! >* lol! That's not a verb I recognize. >* OK there are actual achievements too You will need to be more specific. Try typing LOOK to get a description of your surroundings. >score You have earned 7 points: 1 point for using the letter-remover 3 points for passing through the temporary barrier 3 points for winning the gel You have not yet removed a, b, c, d, f, g, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, q, r, s, t, v, or z from anything. The achievements you have accomplished so far include: Finished tutorial mode >l Hostel I take it this is where you stayed from the time you got to town until our operation. I would have expected that someone with your credentials would have been able to afford something better: The Fleur d'Or, maybe? But maybe you thought this was lower-profile. At least it's clean and doesn't smell funny. The desk attendant is sort of eying us. She is wearing a nose-ring and a blouse. Discarded in one corner is Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis. There's a spiral staircase that leads up to the dormitory rooms. >remove r from nose-ring We reset the device to r. The device buzzes, puzzled. It is unable to create anything recognizable called "nose-ing". >x book A much-thumbed and several years out-of-date guidebook to this immediate area. The cover is tomato-red but the pages are crinkly and beige: it appears that someone has spilled coffee on it. There's too much here to take in in a quick read, but we could look up specific topics if we wanted to read more. >read it A much-thumbed and several years out-of-date guidebook to this immediate area. The cover is tomato-red but the pages are crinkly and beige: it appears that someone has spilled coffee on it. There's too much here to take in in a quick read, but we could look up specific topics if we wanted to read more. >take it We get Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis. >look up park The fountain is listed as one of the attractions of the old town park: the design and execution of the sculpture credited to one M. Antoinne, and was apparently his final work before he faced a firing squad for his use of an irregular surname. (This was during one of the more blood-soaked episodes of standardization, evidently.) >* yup, mountain You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >look up sigil The entry on Sigil Street proclaims it an excellent place for those seeking to commission their own fonts or indulge in other typographical expenses. >look up church The guidebook devotes two and a half pages to the splendors of the New Church, located on the western edge of the town square. It particularly admires the clean lines of the architecture, the solidly constructed pews, and the austere decoration; in fact, the more you read, the more the guide seems to be rhapsodizing about what the builders left out, instead of what they put in. The guide also recommends a visit to the church gift shop, which apparently supports assorted worthy causes, such as, for instance, buying a new roof for the structure and paying a custodial staff. >look up ampersand Ampersand Bend is notable to the guidebook chiefly for the presence of a fine museum. A little less fine now that we've been past, perhaps. >look up museum A museum of linguistic instruments open to the public is to be found on the grounds of the Fleur d'Or hotel. >* oh, we'll be yoinking those You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >look up hostel Mysteriously, the entry for the hostel itself, which ought to contain ratings of its cleanliness, safety, and reliability, has been obliterated with a black marker. >look up alley We flip through Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, but find no reference to alley. >look up back alley We flip through Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, but find no reference to back alley. >look up cinema The Guidebook lists the cinema at the north end of the town park as the best place to see films "correctly and legally dubbed". >* hold off on anyplace else for now You will need to be more specific. Try typing LOOK to get a description of your surroundings. >x attendant She's dressed in a kind of casual-hippy way: nose ring, poofy blouse that doesn't fit quite right. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: your R-remover and a tube. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, an ear, an eel, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, and some members. >ask attendant about room Maybe that means something different to you, but I can't see any such thing. >ask attendant about key I can't see what you're talking about. >ask attendant about herself I can't see what you're talking about. >talk to attendnat I can't see what you're talking about. >talk to attendant We greet the desk attendant. "Yeah, I see you," she says. I'd like to ask whether we can keep the guidebook. >ask whether we can keep the guidebook "Hey, does this guidebook belong to the hostel, or can I keep it?" "Sure, whatever," she says. "People take and leave stuff all the time. It's no big deal." >ask her about room "Are there free beds for the evening?" "Sure," she says. "You can go up and claim whichever free one you like. The hostel won't really fill up until this evening." >* weird That's not a verb I recognize. >ask her about herself "Do you like this job?" She looks taken aback. "It's a living," she says. "I mean, sort of. And the management doesn't really listen to what I tell them. And sometimes people are really loud. Or jerky. But my parents really really realllly wanted me to stay in school so I kind of stopped wanting to, if that makes sense. I don't know, maybe I'll go back later." You apparently have a strong urge to sympathize on the topic of parents. I don't. I'm inclined to sympathize on the topic of parents. >* er? That's not a verb I recognize. >ask her about me The desk attendant doesn't seem interested in talking about ourselves at the moment. You apparently have a strong urge to sympathize on the topic of parents. I don't. We want to sympathize on the topic of parents. >ask her about parents "Parents can be that way," you say, with sudden vehemence. "They work on you like you're a project, like they're raising a show dog or something. It took me a long time to figure out that while I was with my parents I wasn't ever going to even know what I wanted, who I wanted to be. So you got away from that, good for you." And good for her skipping her education when it would have been paid for, and going into an unfulfilling job that doesn't earn enough to live on, right? Seems a little askew to me, but hey. "I don't think my parents were that bad," she says, with a taken-aback little laugh. >* erm. That's not a verb I recognize. >u Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, still locked with its dial lock. A girl of about 19 is standing in the middle of the room, looking around as though she can't quite believe where she landed or what she's doing here. She is carrying a heavy pack and wearing a pink t-shirt. "Hey," says the girl. "Do you think this place is safe?" she asks conspiratorially. I must look blank, because she goes on, "I saw this documentary once, right, about a serial killer who went from youth hostel to youth hostel, grooming girls and killing them. And then he'd chop up the bodies and put the body parts into the lockers. And no one would find out until he'd gone away again." Nothing like that has happened around here, but she seems to get a charge out of scaring herself with this story. I'd like to ask for privacy. >x girl She is just the sort of tourist who most annoys the locals, but actually I find her type a little endearing: she may not be very sophisticated yet, but she wants to expand her horizons, and that's more than you can say for most of the friends she probably left back at home. >ask her about herself The backpacking girl doesn't seem interested in talking about herself. "Do you like this place so far?" We could approve of Atlantis or ask for privacy. >no "There are a lot of things to say about the government," we reply cautiously. "Like what?" "It's better not to say them out loud." "If you can't say something nice, it's better not to say anything at all," the girl responds. "I hate gossip especially when people won't give hard details. That's how this girl Stacy at my school got totally ostracized for supposedly doing something slutty only no one knew what it was." I'd like to ask for privacy. >* hmm That's not a verb I recognize. >ask her about stacy That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask her about herself The backpacking girl doesn't seem interested in talking about herself. "So when did you get to Anglophone Atlantis, anyway? How long have you been here?" We want to lie about visiting or ask for privacy. >truth That's not a verb I recognize. >lie "Just a few days. I wanted a little time to see the place, before it got all crazy for Serial Comma Day," you lie smoothly. "Oh, yeah, that was smart," she says. "I am really not ready for this at all." With a grunt, she shrugs off her pack and puts it on the ground near one of the beds. "Have you tried talking to the desk girl downstairs? I mean for more than two seconds? She is a total witch that starts with B, know what I mean? Like, she looked at me like I was completely an idiot, right, and, like, what does she expect? Of course I don't know my way around, I just got here." We could agree about the attendant or ask for privacy. >agree "I've seen more impressive customer service," you say. "You'd think they'd be a little nicer if they want repeat customers," she grumps. I decide not to point out that the hostel is by far the cheapest lodging place on the island, is probably run on subsidies to make it possible for foreign students to visit at all, and never suffers from any lack of custom. She eyes the beds thoughtfully, punches each of the mattresses in turn, and then climbs into the one she's selected. "Wish I hadn't remembered that serial killer thing," the girl remarks, half to herself. "Now it's going to keep me up later. Picturing someone with a saw hacking me up." There's a heavy tread on the stairs, and the desk attendant puts her head in. "Just so you two know, you're not actually supposed to be hanging out a lot up here during the day. It's for night use really. I'm not going to do anything today, but it's kind of against the rules, for future reference." She turns around and goes back down. The backpacking girl sticks her tongue out at the departing back. I'd like to ask for privacy. >x pack The flag of Canada is sewn on the back. >ask her about canada That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >x locker A standard metal locker for travelers to leave their valuable possessions in when they go out ? or while they sleep, since one's bunkmates are not always to be trusted. It is of the kind that requires the traveler to bring his own lock, and in fact someone (such as yourself) has put a lock on this one. >x lock It's curious, now you look at it: it's a combination lock with a dial face, but no one has bothered putting any numerals onto the dial. You are reminded of making your lock. >remember making lock Galley You were going through the galley cupboards on the yacht. "If you're looking for coffee, Slango forgot to resupply," Brock said, descending the galley staircase in a wet Speedo. "No, the first-letter razor," you replied, holding up a portable clock. "I need a lock that responds to restoration gel but nothing else." "Ah." Brock toweled his hair. "It's in my bunk, sorry. Want to come look for it?" You smiled ? a give-away smile. "Wish I could, but we're on a deadline. Go put some pants on. And bring me the razor." Then we're back in the present. >put gel on lock There isn't enough gel remaining in the little tube for use. My response would be to ask whether she is really from Canada or ask for privacy. >ask her about canada "So," we say, nodding at the pack. "Are you really Canadian?" "Uh, no. I come from Ohio. But don't tell anyone that. My mom thought this would be safer in case of terrorists. She's also worried about serial killers but there's not much I can do about that." She watches us with interest. "I hope this place has good souvenirs. I got this great snowglobe at the Vatican, right, that has the Pope inside saying, like, a blessing." We could admire the snowglobe or ask for privacy. >* lol, timely (Adverbs are almost never necessary. Retrying that as "* lol, ".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >ask her about snowglobe That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >xs nowglobe That's not a verb I recognize. >x snowglobe I can't see what you're talking about. >admire snowglobe "I bet your friends back home are going to love that." "Yeah," she says. "Though I have to keep my souvenir buying light because there isn't that much room in my pack." I'm inclined to ask for privacy. >ask her about pack "What do you think of this?" we ask, pointing to the heavy pack. The backpacking girl shakes her head. We could ask for privacy. >ask her about souvenirs That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: your R-remover and a tube. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, an ear, an eel, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, and some members. >show arm to girl "Here, have a look at this," we say. The backpacking girl obviously might faint. After a moment to regain her composure, she flees the vicinity. >* well, that's one way to do things That does not seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >x bunks I can't see what you're talking about. >l Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, still locked with its dial lock. A massively full pack leans against one of the beds. >x beds At this time of day, since everyone is checked out, the beds are all stripped down to bare mattress. Linens may be rented at the front desk ? but we're not staying here tonight, so there's no need to experience the thinning sheets and the pilled woolen blankets. Your memory is enough for both of us. You have a fleeting thought of how it started with Brock. >remember brock Brock's Stateroom It was early morning, almost a year ago now. A dim light came through the portholes. A four-thousand dollar mink blanket covered your hip. You sat up and started fishing around beside the bed, in the dove-grey shadows, for your bra. Brock put a hand on your thigh. It seems you woke him. "That wasn't your first time," he said. "No." You were still feeling for the underpants and the shirt, not looking at him. "Well. You're made of human after all." Brock stretched, grinned. "After breakfast I'll clear you some drawer space." "This was a one-night event," you said. "You're familiar with the concept." He got very still. Then he got out of bed. Without looking at you, he got his trunks out of his drawer. "I'm going for a swim." Then we're back in the present. >* I see That's not a verb I recognize. >l Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, still locked with its dial lock. A massively full pack leans against one of the beds. >x pack The flag of Canada is mendaciously sewn on the back. >open pack We open the heavy pack, revealing an assortment of very short shorts, a broomstick skirt, flip-flops, bikini bottoms, various t-shirts, an anorak, a fat guidebook to Europe, a cheap camera, and a box of tampons. >save Ok. >x shorts It's a good thing the weather here is really as warm as popularly imagined. >x skirt It is the sort of skirt made of thin fabric that twists up into a tight tube, and is supposed to be interestingly crinkly when worn. >x flops I can't see what you're talking about. >x flip-flops The sole of each flip-flop is decorated with the image of Snoopy. >x bottoms The tops are not in evidence, at least as far as casual inspection reveals. >x shirts I can't see what you're talking about. >x t-shirts There's not a one without a logo of some kind. >x anorak It might be meant to counter the effect of all the shorts. >x europs I can't see what you're talking about. >x europe The spine is cracked at many points and the pages folded over for future reference. >x camera It is a flimsy device in rose-pink, with a very small lens. >x tampons Let's not. This is awkward enough already. >take camera The girl may be a bit foolish, but she doesn't deserve to be robbed on the first day of her trip. >remove h from shorts We reset the device to h. The device buzzes, puzzled. It has tried to create a "assortment of very sort sorts": evidently "shorts" is too tightly bound to its modifiers and can't be manipulated separately. >remove r from skirt We reset the device to r. The device buzzes, puzzled. It has tried to create a "boomstick skit": evidently "skirt" is too tightly bound to its modifiers and can't be manipulated separately. >remove b from tampons We reset the device to b. The device buzzes, puzzled. It has tried to create a "ox of tampons": evidently "tampons" is too tightly bound to its modifiers and can't be manipulated separately. >* aww That's not a verb I recognize. >l Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, still locked with its dial lock. A massively full pack leans against one of the beds. There are an assortment of very short shorts, a broomstick skirt, flip-flops, bikini bottoms, various t-shirts, an anorak, a fat guidebook to Europe, a cheap camera, and a box of tampons in the heavy pack. >x dial Still no numbers on the dial. My mother had a wristwatch like that once. Always a nuisance. >touch gel to dial (I only understood the first part of that ? trying anyway. Retrying that as "touch gel".) Unfortunately, there's hardly any gel remaining in the tube. >put gel on dial There isn't enough gel remaining in the little tube for use. >squeeze tube We squeeze vigorously, but nothing comes out. >x tube The tube claims to be full of restoration gel, but said gel has mostly gone. If only it had been a larger container to start with. >open tube It comes without a cap. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: your B-remover and a tube. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, an ear, an eel, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, and some members. >remove e from tube We reset the device to e. There is a distinct spearmint flavor, and the tube turns into a tub. Now a handsome, giant-sized tub with RESTORATION GEL prominently emblazoned on the front. >x tub Now a handsome, giant-sized tub with RESTORATION GEL prominently emblazoned on the front. >open it We open the tub, revealing some restoration gel. >x gel The tub contains a clear, sticky gel that restores objects to their original state, before any letter changing. This is a valuable item in your line of work. >put gel on dial We dip out a pea-sized quantity of gel and rub it gently onto the lock. With an audible SPLORT, the lock becomes a clock and falls to the floor. It appears to be one of those archetypal alarm clocks that crows at sunrise and generally makes a nuisance of itself. It shows the time to be about ten to eleven. I'm starting to understand how you got into all the places you got into. Not that I judge you or your line of work, of course. [Your score has gone up by one point and is now eight.] >take clock We pick up the clock. >remove c from clock We reset the device to c. The device buzzes, puzzled. It is unable to create anything recognizable called "lok". >* hmm, definitely will find a one-off remover eventually (Adverbs are almost never necessary. Retrying that as "* hmm, will find a one-off remover ".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >remove l from clock We reset the device to l. The clock flickers and there is a brief image of a cock in its place, but a legal override kicks in: an L-remover is hardware-crippled to prevent generating any living creature. >open locker Now that the lock has been removed, the locker swings easily open, revealing a roll, a letter, and some plans. [Your score has gone up by three points and is now eleven.] >x roll Now that is more like it: you've got us a tidy little stash of euros here. >take it We pick up the roll. >x it Some day you will have to tell me a little bit about the tricks of the trade ? how you fenced stuff, you know? Or perhaps you won't tell me. Maybe it would be better not. At any rate, this money is useful, so I won't ask too many questions. >x plans The plans are rolled up and stuck shut with a label that reads "PROPERTY OF DENTAL CONSONANTS LIMITED ? UNAUTHORIZED USE ILLEGAL". They're just a set of prints from the main computer design, of course, but still extremely informative: to the right engineer, they might reveal the secret of T-insertion for replication by other companies. These are what you and Brock were originally contracted to lift from the island, at a fee in the multiple millions. >take plans We take the plans. >* oh, I see You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >read plans The plans are rolled up and stuck shut with a label that reads "PROPERTY OF DENTAL CONSONANTS LIMITED ? UNAUTHORIZED USE ILLEGAL". They're just a set of prints from the main computer design, of course, but still extremely informative: to the right engineer, they might reveal the secret of T-insertion for replication by other companies. These are what you and Brock were originally contracted to lift from the island, at a fee in the multiple millions. >open plans They aren't something we can open. >unroll plans That's not a verb I recognize. >* aww That's not a verb I recognize. >x label The plans are rolled up and stuck shut with a label that reads "PROPERTY OF DENTAL CONSONANTS LIMITED ? UNAUTHORIZED USE ILLEGAL". They're just a set of prints from the main computer design, of course, but still extremely informative: to the right engineer, they might reveal the secret of T-insertion for replication by other companies. These are what you and Brock were originally contracted to lift from the island, at a fee in the multiple millions. >x letter It's a letter from your brother, printed off anonymously from an untraceable email account that you accessed in town. Nothing that could be followed back to Slango and the yacht. Sis, I'm keeping your wire transfer funds. I want to try for Stanford. I'd say thank you except that, one, you didn't get it legally (I saw this documentary about teen prostitutes ? if that's where it came from then EW) and, two, honestly? You owe for what you put us through after you ran away. Mom and Dad were humiliated that you turned into the prodigal daughter. Your face got on milk cartons. Pastor Hughes GAVE A SERMON ABOUT IT. Mom spent all that time coaching you through spelling practice, you know she doesn't enjoy getting up at 4 AM, right? You totally threw that in their faces. If you want to come home sometime, fine, but don't come to just see me. If you want to see me you have to see Mom and Dad too. Nate. >take it We take the letter. >l Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, door standing open. A massively full pack leans against one of the beds. In the heavy pack are an assortment of very short shorts, a broomstick skirt, flip-flops, bikini bottoms, various t-shirts, an anorak, a fat guidebook to Europe, a cheap camera, and a box of tampons. >x locker A standard metal locker for travelers to leave their valuable possessions in when they go out ? or while they sleep, since one's bunkmates are not always to be trusted. It is of the kind that requires the traveler to bring his own lock, but it is currently bare. >close locker We close the locker. >l Dormitory Room Painted off-white, with hard wood floors under many layers of protective gloss coating: there are no surfaces in this room that would take a stain. Four dorm beds are lined up against the wall. The locker you identify as your own sits near one of the beds, closed but not locked. A massively full pack leans against one of the beds. There are an assortment of very short shorts, a broomstick skirt, flip-flops, bikini bottoms, various t-shirts, an anorak, a fat guidebook to Europe, a cheap camera, and a box of tampons in the heavy pack. >lock locker That doesn't seem to be something we can lock. >d Hostel I take it this is where you stayed from the time you got to town until our operation. I would have expected that someone with your credentials would have been able to afford something better: The Fleur d'Or, maybe? But maybe you thought this was lower-profile. At least it's clean and doesn't smell funny. The desk attendant is sort of eying us. She is wearing a nose-ring and a blouse. There's a spiral staircase that leads up to the dormitory rooms. >w Heritage Corner This patch of the town square has been paved over in octagonal bricks and is commonly used for displays of traditional dancing: over-50 women in home-made embroidered aprons, skipping arm-in-arm and jumping over broomsticks. Under a bit of shelter in the corner, a diorama table shows scenes from local history, rotated out each week. This week's diorama represents the first sitting of the Committee for the New Orthodox Orthography. The park continues to the north and west; to the east is the hostel. >nw [If you're traveling far, you can always type GO TO (location name) to get there automatically.] Park Center This is a handsome expanse of grass, shaped like a rectangle with rounds cut from the corners, bounded by railings along the north side. There are no stalls and no barkers here, but small children are running around an impressive marble fountain. >w Church Forecourt This corner of the park, in the lee of the church, has been left free of kiosks and booths. Contrary to the usual rules of cathedral layout, the New Church is oriented toward the north, so we are standing by the flank of the building, though there is an entrance on this side. South and east lead to more of the park; there is a small cinema (where I left my pack) to the north, and the entrance to the New Church is west. >save Ok. >w New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. What is the need or use of God, if it turns out that He gave all the power of creation to Adam when He let him name the animals? An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. My mother volunteers here: I think I should warn you. She is not quite religious, but believes in the cultural value of the building, and in having some sort of place where people can go for spiritual respite. She also, I suspect, likes having those great gold letters, defiantly foreign and arcane in the heart of the old city. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >* is the Greek meant to have question marks? That's not a verb I recognize. >* also yay narthex That's not a verb I recognize. >x altar It is simple and bare of cloth or flowers. >x inscription It means, In the Beginning was the Word. A patchy attempt to make theology align with scientific and linguistic reality, but it still has power. And despite the Bureau's depredations of foreign language writings everywhere else, they have never quite had the nerve to deface this. >remove rho from inscription We can't see any such thing on the inscription. >* ah well That's not a verb I recognize. >l New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >x altar It is simple and bare of cloth or flowers. >w Church Garden One might expect a graveyard, but burial inside the city walls has been forbidden for sanitation reasons since well before the New Church was built. Instead, there is a small meditation garden, which was once designed as an intricate knotwork of shrubs. The knotwork has since grown into a thicket. >x garden Church Garden One might expect a graveyard, but burial inside the city walls has been forbidden for sanitation reasons since well before the New Church was built. Instead, there is a small meditation garden, which was once designed as an intricate knotwork of shrubs. The knotwork has since grown into a thicket. >x shrubs Densely-grown: the church hasn't been able to afford a real groundskeeper for some time. >x thicket Densely-grown: the church hasn't been able to afford a real groundskeeper for some time. >remove h from thicket We reset the device to h. The thicket abruptly shrivels and flattens itself, and in its place a ticket flutters to earth. >take ticket We pick up the ticket. It reads ADMIT ONE in large black letters. >read it It reads ADMIT ONE in large black letters. >* for cinema? That's not a verb I recognize. >l Church Garden One might expect a graveyard, but burial inside the city walls has been forbidden for sanitation reasons since well before the New Church was built. Instead, there is a small meditation garden, which was once designed as an intricate knotwork of shrubs. Now the shrubs are gone. >e New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >w Church Garden One might expect a graveyard, but burial inside the city walls has been forbidden for sanitation reasons since well before the New Church was built. Instead, there is a small meditation garden, which was once designed as an intricate knotwork of shrubs. Now the shrubs are gone. >meditate I'm not bringing you on a tandem ride through my psyche. Sorry. >* lol That's not a verb I recognize. >e [If you're traveling far, you can always type GO TO (location name) to get there automatically.] New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >s Cathedral Gift Shop This area used to be a sort of antechamber where the priests and choir might gather for processions into the church, but it has now been done over for retail purposes. This is one of several schemes to make the New Church pay for its own upkeep: a problem is that people somehow feel everything associated with a church ought to be free, including lunchtime concerts, potluck suppers, and Thursday-night lecture series. The elderly man in charge of the gift shop nods at us as we come in. A long line of dusty tomes are lined up on one of the shelves, marked "free for taking". None are missing. We want to ask what is worth seeing in the New Church. >x man He has one of those withered-apple faces more frequent in old women, but there is no doubt from the shape of his nose and the slight stubble that he is in fact male. >x tomes Looking at one gives a sense of all. Extremely dusty, learned, and virtuous, such that I almost fall asleep just looking at it. It's nothing so ribald as the Bible, or even a hymnal or order of service: it appears rather to be a selection of sermons of the 18th century, from a period when it was considered somehow exciting to sit through a three-hour discourse on theology. >take tome We reach for one of the volumes, then stop, indecisive. They really do seem to be a set, and I can't bring myself to break it up. I'd like to ask what is worth seeing in the New Church. >ask man about church "So tell me, what should I be looking for in the New Church?" we ask. "Other than God?" he asks dryly. Hm ? the volunteers aren't very well trained, are they? I was expecting something about the points of architectural interest. >ask him about god "Are you a believer?" we ask. "Some of the time. The rest of the time I just wish I were." He flattens his hands on the surface of the counter. They are veiny, with coarse thick nails. Some reflection about the end of life, or the perspective of old age, seems inevitable. But he says: "You choose to believe or not. There's no such thing as absolute proof. So then the question is, do you want to believe in God? And, if so, what kind of God do you want to believe in? You go from there." We could ask what sort of God he believes in or ask why he is here. >ask him about existentialism That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >* alas That's not a verb I recognize. >ask him about god "What sort of God do you believe in, then?" we ask. This isn't exactly how I expected this conversation to go, but no doubt you have some reason of your own for chatting with random strangers about their deeply held beliefs while we are supposed to be fleeing the country. "Today?" He shrugs his cardigan-clad shoulders. "I figure he's a good enough type but he's a little tired of humans. Who wouldn't be? It might be that he's working on a new project and he's gotten distracted from us." My response would be to ask what new project that might be. >ask him about project "What kind of new project?" "If I knew, I'd be the almighty, wouldn't I?" He looks at us thoughtfully and I almost have the feeling he knows something I don't want him to know. "You should keep moving. Don't waste time," he says. >ask him about himself What would you like to do: ask why he is here, ask whether he approves of government, or ask why he isn't at the celebration? >ask him why he's here That does not seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask him why he is here "If you aren't interested in this place, why do you volunteer here?" we ask. His left eyelid twitches. "The Rosehip woman," he says, after a moment. "She's a looker." I'm not sure what's more disturbing: someone expressing attraction to my mother; that person being a good thirty years her senior; or the use of the phrase "she's a looker", which even this old character probably got from a movie. I'm inclined to remind the gift shop volunteer that Mrs. Rosehip is married. >remind him rosehip is married "My mother?" we begin, before you catch me. Sorry about that! "? always tells me it is unwise to chase after married women," we finish lamely. He shakes with laughter. "Bless you," he says. "I'm not chasing after anyone! At my age, you just like a bit of good scenery. You're not hard on the eyes yourself, you know." >blush That's not a verb I recognize. >slap him That's not a verb I recognize. >topics My response would be to ask whether he approves of government or ask why he isn't at the celebration. >ask him about government "Do you approve of the present government of the island?" His eyes narrow sharply. "That's not a question we get asked a lot around here," he comments. "It's a little like being asked whether you approve of the plumbing in your house, or the brake lines on your car. If it ever broke, you'd know, but the rest of the time you just don't give it much consideration. Underappreciated folks, our orthographers, but they work hard and they make things run smoothly, and barring the odd popular referendum we don't have to waste nearly as much time on arguing politics as folks in most countries." >ask him about referendum That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask him about referendums That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask him about referenda That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask him about celebration "I'm surprised you're in here and not outside enjoying the festivities," we comment. "The prizes and the candy are for kiddies," he says. "The part I like best's what comes later. The fireworks. They're always first rate." I'd like to ask how to see the fireworks. >ask him about fireworks "Really? I wouldn't want to miss that. How do we see the fireworks display?" "It's after dark," he says, "naturally. But you'll be able to see it from anywhere around, not to worry. They fire the blasts off over the water but you can see them from miles off." >ask him about books We frame up a vague question about Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis. He absently straightens the arrangement of the postcards in the display. "Sorry, don't think I can help you there." >ask him about tomes We frame up a vague question about the tomes. He looks at us keenly. "Alas, don't think I can help you there." >ask him about postcards We frame up a vague question about the postcards. He looks at us keenly. "I'm afraid, don't think I can help you there." >topics We can think of no valid conversation topics at the moment. >l Cathedral Gift Shop This area used to be a sort of antechamber where the priests and choir might gather for processions into the church, but it has now been done over for retail purposes. This is one of several schemes to make the New Church pay for its own upkeep: a problem is that people somehow feel everything associated with a church ought to be free, including lunchtime concerts, potluck suppers, and Thursday-night lecture series. An elderly man in a knitted wool cap presides over the gift shop. A long line of dusty tomes are lined up on one of the shelves, marked "free for taking". None are missing. >remove m from tomes We reset the device to m. We wave the M-remover at the tomes and produce some toes, severed. "You broke it, you buy it," says the volunteer. "Though the tomes were free. But please at least take your mess away with you when you leave." >take toes We take the toes. It looks like a set of toes raggedly cut off with a bread knife. They weren't, of course. >* wonder if we can build a Frankenstein lol That's not a verb I recognize. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: your M-remover, some plans, a roll, and a tub of restoration gel. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, a clock, an ear, an eel, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, a letter, some members, a ticket, and some toes. >put gel on eel We dip out a pea-sized quantity of gel and rub it gently onto the eel. With an audible SPLORT, the eel becomes a wheel. The wheel is far too large for us to carry, and falls onto the floor. >remove w from wheel We reset the device to w. The wheel gives way to the now-familiar heel. "I hope you're planning to clean that up," he comments. >take heel We get the heel. >n New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >s Cathedral Gift Shop This area used to be a sort of antechamber where the priests and choir might gather for processions into the church, but it has now been done over for retail purposes. This is one of several schemes to make the New Church pay for its own upkeep: a problem is that people somehow feel everything associated with a church ought to be free, including lunchtime concerts, potluck suppers, and Thursday-night lecture series. The elderly man in charge of the gift shop nods at us as we come in. >n New Church Not a Gothic cathedral from the era when the church was wealthy and secure, but a gallant Neo-classical response to the turmoil of the 18th century, when the power of language was just beginning to be evident, and instead of an immutable cosmology, we suddenly had observer-consensus reality. An inscription above the altar, picked out in gold paint, reads ?? ???? ?? ? ?????. There are side exits both east and west; and a gift shop occupies the narthex at the south end. >e Church Forecourt This corner of the park, in the lee of the church, has been left free of kiosks and booths. Contrary to the usual rules of cathedral layout, the New Church is oriented toward the north, so we are standing by the flank of the building, though there is an entrance on this side. South and east lead to more of the park; there is a small cinema (where I left my pack) to the north, and the entrance to the New Church is west. >save Ok. >n Cinema Lobby This is a small, one-screen theater. The seats are not comfortable and the screen is not large. The projector is old. The management is lazy. No food is served. On two occasions, the film I was watching burst into flames while it was being shown. Despite these handicaps, it maintains an active and interested clientele simply by virtue of content: a wide variety of foreign films that, though meticulously dubbed into flawless California-accented English, nonetheless carry that slight tang of the forbidden. Evidently the next showing is not for a little while yet, because there are no patrons in sight. "Ticket," says the ticket-taker automatically. >* I saw a movie burst into flames once -- it was kinda cool! Please rephrase your command to start with an imperative verb, like LOOK. >l Cinema Lobby This is a small, one-screen theater. Evidently the next showing is not for a little while yet, because there are no patrons in sight. The ticket-taker waits just west of us, at the entrance to the screening room, ready to take tickets. >x room (To get a description of your surroundings, try typing LOOK. Retrying that as "look".) Cinema Lobby This is a small, one-screen theater. Evidently the next showing is not for a little while yet, because there are no patrons in sight. The ticket-taker waits just west of us, at the entrance to the screening room, ready to take tickets. >x taker Not one of this country's best and brightest, but he seems good-natured. >talk to taker We return the greeting. >ask taker about movie What would you like to discuss: 1) what the movie is or 2) when the movie starts? >1 "What's playing, anyway?" "It's a special showing of 'Red.'" >ask him about red That doesn't seem to be a topic of conversation at the moment. >ask him when movie starts "When does the movie start?" we ask. "Oh, um... not until this evening." >show ticket to taker (the ticket to the ticket-taker) "Here, have a ticket," we say. The ticket-taker frowns slightly as he takes the ticket. He turns it over front and back; looks at us in confusion; looks at the ticket again. Then he goes to the phone and makes a call. I'm nervous. It's evident that he's talking to his manager. He doesn't take his eyes off us for a moment. He puts his hand over the mouth of the receiver so that we can't hear the whole conversation clearly, but the gist is still obvious: "...be fake... but... a TRICKET maybe? or, like, a STICKET? ...oh, all right." Finally he hangs up. "Sorry for the inconvenience," he says. "Your ticket looks a little different from our usual ones, but I guess the printing has been changed." He tears the ticket briskly into confetti, destroying all evidence of our crime, and points off to the west. "The screening room is that way. Thank you and enjoy the show. It's not for a while, though." >w Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. My backpack is stowed under a seat in the third row from the back. I figured that it would be undisturbed there for a couple of hours, in the dark and out of sight, and if anyone found it they would probably turn it in to Lost and Found. But it is a big relief to find it still there. The backpack contains a flash drive and a monocle. We can go north and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >x screen The screen is empty: nothing is yet being shown. It is also very very small by modern cinema standards. >remove n from screen We reset the device to n. There is a mad-scientist cackle, and the screen turns into some scree. The scree is a sloping pile of small and mid-sized stones, most of them roughly broken off. They look like the result of a rockfall rather than of, say, long erosion by water. >take scree take scree That's fixed in place. >l Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. My backpack is stowed under a seat in the third row from the back. In the backpack are a flash drive and a monocle. We can also see some scree here. We can go north and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >* screen isn't so much blank as rocky (Most connecting and comparative words are not necessary. Retrying that as "* screen isn't much blank as rocky".) That's not a verb I recognize. >x backpack Mine: a little bit worn, but capacious. It doesn't have any identifying marks on it, and I thought a brand-new bag would look more suspicious. It's closed. In the backpack are a flash drive and a monocle. >take it We pick up the backpack. [Your score has gone up by three points and is now fourteen.] >wear it We put on the backpack. >open it We open the backpack. >x monocle This is no mere fashion accessory. It is the very top grade of authentication scope, designed for people who have to use them all day, and normally available only to employees of the Bureau of Orthography. If we look through the monocle at something, we can see its true nature, regardless of spelling changes. You like that? I thought you might be impressed. My father got it for me. "For research," he said, but I think he knew I just coveted them. At any rate, you're not the only one with equipment. >* ooh That's not a verb I recognize. >take onocle I can't see what you're talking about. >take monocle We take the monocle. >wear it Everything turns computer-monitor green when viewed through our right eye. And staring fixedly at anything will turn up its authenticity status. >x myself I don't think anything about us looks out of place. We are female, though a little taller and leaner than average, and with slightly boyish facial features. It's nothing that would attract attention, though. We are wearing the monocle and the backpack. >look through monocle at myself The monocle fails to make any sound or response at all, but no green image forms revealing the true nature of ourselves. >x scree The scree is a sloping pile of small and mid-sized stones, most of them roughly broken off. They look like the result of a rockfall rather than of, say, long erosion by water. There is a dismissive blatt from the monocle, and transposed over the scree is a faint, greenish image of a screen. >x eel I can't see what you're talking about. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: a backpack, a flash drive, a monocle, your N-remover, some plans, a roll, and a tub of restoration gel. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, a clock, an ear, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, a heel, a letter, some members, and some toes. The flash drive is in the backpack, which is gaping wide open so everyone can see what's inside. We are wearing the monocle and the backpack. >x heel Calloused and leathery, a gruesome souvenir of years of unhappy shoe-wearing. There is a dismissive blatt from the monocle, and transposed over the heel is a faint, greenish image of a wheel. >l Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. We can see some scree here. We can go north and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >x drive This is it: all my notes; the syllable-and word-generating programs from which I built my language vocabulary; the lexicon and pronunciation guide and grammatical descriptions. And then there's the research to support the product: citations; copies of journal articles and scans from books; contact information for people in the outside world I think could help me. It's everything I've been working on for the last three years. The monocle pings happily as we sight the flash drive with the crosshairs. >* guess that means it hasn't changed That's not a verb I recognize. >x backpack Mine: a little bit worn, but capacious. It doesn't have any identifying marks on it, and I thought a brand-new bag would look more suspicious. It currently gapes open. In the backpack is a flash drive. The monocle pings happily as we sight the backpack with the crosshairs. >i We are equipped with the following essentials: a backpack, a flash drive, a monocle, your N-remover, some plans, a roll, and a tub of restoration gel. We are also carrying an apple, an arm, a clock, an ear, Guidebook to Anglophone Atlantis, a heel, a letter, some members, and some toes. The flash drive is in the backpack, which is gaping wide open so everyone can see what's inside. We are wearing the monocle and the backpack. >l Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. We can see some scree here. We can go north and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >goals Here's what we think we need to do: Meet your colleague Slango at Counterfeit Monkey >* OK, guess we're done with this part! (Most connecting and comparative words are not necessary. Retrying that as "* ok, guess we _be done with part".) You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >e Cinema Lobby This is a small, one-screen theater. Evidently the next showing is not for a little while yet, because there are no patrons in sight. "Yo," says the ticket-taker as we come in. >w Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. We can see some scree here. We can go north and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >n Projection Booth The booth is small and lined with grey carpet. It smells faintly of hot dogs. A jotter is propped up next to the projector. >smell The ghost of hot dog and relish lingers in the air. It's mildly nauseating. >x jotter It's a little spiral-bound notebook, the kind reporters in old movies carry. It's full of notes: running times of movies. Numbers of people in the audience. Who clapped during potentially subversive scenes. Who arrived in a group of more than three. On the jotter is written "Red: audience 14. FM couple. MM couple. M in raincoat. FFFFF group. F. MF. M." The monocle pings happily as we sight the jotter with the crosshairs. >* eek That's not a verb I recognize. >remove j from jotter We reset the device to j. The jotter flickers and there is a brief image of an otter in its place, but a legal override kicks in: a J-remover is hardware-crippled to prevent generating any living creature. >take jotter We acquire the jotter. >l Projection Booth The booth is small and lined with grey carpet. It smells faintly of hot dogs. A projector has been set up facing the screen. >x projector It's an old-fashioned film projector, with a spot to hold a reel of film. The lens points at the screen. The monocle pings happily as we sight the projector with the crosshairs. >x reel I can't see what you're talking about. >x lens It's an old-fashioned film projector, with a spot to hold a reel of film. The lens points at the screen. The monocle pings happily as we sight the projector with the crosshairs. >* projector = protector? That's not a verb I recognize. >s Screening Room "Red" has not started yet, and is probably not destined to start for some time; at any rate, the screen is blank and no audience has yet assembled. We can see some scree here. We can go north to the Projection Booth and east to the Cinema Lobby from here. >e Cinema Lobby This is a small, one-screen theater. Evidently the next showing is not for a little while yet, because there are no patrons in sight. "Yo," says the ticket-taker as we come in. >s Church Forecourt This corner of the park, in the lee of the church, has been left free of kiosks and booths. Contrary to the usual rules of cathedral layout, the New Church is oriented toward the north, so we are standing by the flank of the building, though there is an entrance on this side. South and east lead to more of the park; there is a small cinema to the north, and the entrance to the New Church is west. >e Park Center This is a handsome expanse of grass, shaped like a rectangle with rounds cut from the corners, bounded by railings along the north side. There are no stalls and no barkers here, but small children are running around an impressive marble fountain. >* OK, stopping point? You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >e Monumental Staircase Once, the central hillock of the city was a fortified enclave, protected from the harbor and the peasant town by great walls. Now, however, the walls are mostly gone, except for a little spur that runs north from here. The walkways and tower are open to the public. Meanwhile a staircase as wide as a street descends east from the town square toward the harbor. An enormous blue and orange warning poster covers the wall alongside the staircase. We can go north, south to Heritage Corner, southwest to Fair, east, and west to Park Center from here. > score You have earned 14 points: 1 point for using the letter-remover 3 points for passing through the temporary barrier 3 points for winning the gel 1 point for using the gel 3 points for opening the locker 3 points for retrieving the backpack You have not yet removed a, b, c, d, f, g, i, j, k, l, o, q, r, s, t, v, or z from anything. The achievements you have accomplished so far include: Finished tutorial mode >save Ok.