Start of a transcript of JIGSAW An Interactive History Copyright (c) 1995 by Graham Nelson Release 3 / Serial number 951129 / Inform v1600 Library 6/1 Standard interpreter 1.1 Interpreter 1 Version C / Library serial number 951024 >w Silver Cairns (in the lunar rover) A clear patch of regolith, two hundred meters west of the "Challenger". To the north is an extraordinary view: dead flat plain, then the North Massif rising like a cliff. The trails of rover prints lead roughly southwest. It is home to the ALSEP scientific station, five weird-shaped instruments laid out on the lunar soil and cabled together to a nuclear reactor and a skyward antenna. A stiff cable snakes away, ready to be hooked up to some experiment or other. Some kind of two-foot long rod is propped up next to the ALSEP. There's a hairline crack around part of its midriff. >sw Between Horatio and Victory (in the lunar rover) The valley is getting smoother as you head roughly west from the "Challenger". Boulders mark the rims of the craters either side, and the soil is deep and clinging, fresh soil that's been thrown up by the wire-rimmed wheels of a Rover. >w Shorty Crater (in the lunar rover) A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. >sw In the distance you can just make out the other lunar rover. It seems unwise to drive further southwest. >exit You get out of the lunar rover. Shorty Crater A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >sw The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. Tortilla Flat The Tortilla Flat (these names, you will have gathered by now, were not the work of the International Astronomical Union, who got more and more pompously annoyed with NASA as Apollo went on) is a long swathe northeast to southwest, rising towards the South Massif. Travel west is balked by a rill. You're about at the northeast corner of the small, squarish Lara crater, crouched behind its low rim. The crouch is because the real Apollo 17 astronauts are raking a detailed geological sample at the far corner, beside their repaired lunar rover, and you don't think it wise to be seen by them. Not wise at all. >x rover The repaired LRV is too far away to make out much. The repairs are to its fender, which was supposed to keep dust from being thrown up over the drivers, but must have broken off in flight. The fender is now a crudely improvised squarish grey board. >x astronauts They're (fortunately) too far away to deal with directly. >w You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. Over the radio, you hear astronaut Schmitt telling Houston that "It looks like a finely vesicular version of our clinopyroxene gabbro." >throw clod You lob the green clod stone somewhere over by the astronauts. Shortly after, they discover it, and clearly become very excited, turning their attention mainly away from the crater rim as they carefully photograph its exact location and geological context (you feel a little guilty about this). >w You have settled onto a loping tiptoe walk, as if on a trampoline: but it is exhausting to stop and start, because although you weigh very little your momentum is the same as it would be on Earth. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. >w You trip over, but fall so slowly that you have time to turn and catch your footing again. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. Astronaut Cernan is cleaning the TV camera lens, while Schmitt takes a panoramic photograph, causing you to duck hurriedly. >x astronauts They're (fortunately) too far away to deal with directly. >s Craters are hard to see edge on: the eye underestimates distances. It is a confusing world to explore, and you stumble back to... Shorty Crater A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >sw The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. Tortilla Flat The Tortilla Flat (these names, you will have gathered by now, were not the work of the International Astronomical Union, who got more and more pompously annoyed with NASA as Apollo went on) is a long swathe northeast to southwest, rising towards the South Massif. Travel west is balked by a rill. The real Apollo 17 astronauts are examining the green clod, but still far too close to risk approaching their LRV. >w You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. >w You have settled onto a loping tiptoe walk, as if on a trampoline: but it is exhausting to stop and start, because although you weigh very little your momentum is the same as it would be on Earth. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. "Oh, hey!" says Schmitt, having apparently spotted something. Your heart stands still. "This is orange soil!" he eventually says. >search rover The repaired LRV is too far away to make out much. The repairs are to its fender, which was supposed to keep dust from being thrown up over the drivers, but must have broken off in flight. The fender is now a crudely improvised squarish grey board. >s You trip over, but fall so slowly that you have time to turn and catch your footing again. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. >d Craters are hard to see edge on: the eye underestimates distances. It is a confusing world to explore, and you stumble back to... Shorty Crater A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >sw The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. Tortilla Flat The Tortilla Flat (these names, you will have gathered by now, were not the work of the International Astronomical Union, who got more and more pompously annoyed with NASA as Apollo went on) is a long swathe northeast to southwest, rising towards the South Massif. Travel west is balked by a rill. The real Apollo 17 astronauts are examining the green clod, but still far too close to risk approaching their LRV. "Don't move it until I see it!" Cernan replies, excitedly, moving over to join him. >d You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. "Is it the same colour as cheese?" asks the capsule communicator (the physicist and fellow astronaut Bob Parker) back in Houston. He contrives to do this with a perfectly dead-pan voice. >z Time passes. >z Time passes. >z Time passes. >i You are carrying: the sunshade foil a gnomon a space suit (being worn) >x gnomon A geologists' gnomon, an accurately-made tripod of measuring rods used to provide colour and length scales for photographs. >take off suit Don't be a fool. >look Tortilla Flat The Tortilla Flat (these names, you will have gathered by now, were not the work of the International Astronomical Union, who got more and more pompously annoyed with NASA as Apollo went on) is a long swathe northeast to southwest, rising towards the South Massif. Travel west is balked by a rill. The real Apollo 17 astronauts are examining the green clod, but still far too close to risk approaching their LRV. >w You have settled onto a loping tiptoe walk, as if on a trampoline: but it is exhausting to stop and start, because although you weigh very little your momentum is the same as it would be on Earth. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. Schmitt replies that it's nearly the colour of the decal on his camera. You have no idea what colour that is, but luckily Bob Parker does, as he copies that. >w You trip over, but fall so slowly that you have time to turn and catch your footing again. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. Cernan is still dusting instruments, but is quite excited. This is as nothing to Schmitt, who is animated indeed. "Okay, sports fans, a trench!" he declares. >w Craters are hard to see edge on: the eye underestimates distances. It is a confusing world to explore, and you stumble back to... Shorty Crater A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >sw The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. Tortilla Flat The Tortilla Flat (these names, you will have gathered by now, were not the work of the International Astronomical Union, who got more and more pompously annoyed with NASA as Apollo went on) is a long swathe northeast to southwest, rising towards the South Massif. Travel west is balked by a rill. The real Apollo 17 astronauts are examining the green clod, but still far too close to risk approaching their LRV. >w You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. You can't go that way, for fear of the astronauts noticing you. The crater rim is really very low. >drop gnomon Dropped: a gentle fall without tumbling. Objects here seem to keep moving when pushed, just slightly more slowly than in orbit. >take gnomon Taken. >set up gnomon I only understood you as far as wanting to set the ceiling. >x me As good-looking as ever. >ne You have settled onto a loping tiptoe walk, as if on a trampoline: but it is exhausting to stop and start, because although you weigh very little your momentum is the same as it would be on Earth. Shorty Crater A dark-rimmed minor crater the size of a football field, whose inner wall and central mound is scattered with blocks. Lunar Rover tracks turn from southwest to east, and footprints are stamped about, scuffing the soil to reveal vivid, bright orange earth, the most spectacular colour-burst you have seen on the Moon. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >enter rover You get into the lunar rover. >n The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >nw The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >e Between Horatio and Victory (in the lunar rover) The valley is getting smoother as you head roughly west from the "Challenger". Boulders mark the rims of the craters either side, and the soil is deep and clinging, fresh soil that's been thrown up by the wire-rimmed wheels of a Rover. >n The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >e Silver Cairns (in the lunar rover) A clear patch of regolith, two hundred meters west of the "Challenger". To the north is an extraordinary view: dead flat plain, then the North Massif rising like a cliff. The trails of rover prints lead roughly southwest. It is home to the ALSEP scientific station, five weird-shaped instruments laid out on the lunar soil and cabled together to a nuclear reactor and a skyward antenna. A stiff cable snakes away, ready to be hooked up to some experiment or other. Some kind of two-foot long rod is propped up next to the ALSEP. There's a hairline crack around part of its midriff. >ne The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >e Apollo 17 Landing Site (in the lunar rover) Just about the exact centre of the Taurus-Littrow plain, ringed about chaotically with footprints and Lunar Rover tracks which will, perhaps, remain for millions of years. Some way off to the west, scientific instruments gleam. A sun-white ladder rises to the airlock of the lion-faced Lunar Module "Challenger", which is over three times your height. It has one leg in a small crater, and is tilting gently backwards. On another leg is a ceremonial plaque. The American flag stands here, held out by a wire frame. >e The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >ne The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >n North Massif (in the lunar rover) Perhaps thrown by a moonquake, perhaps by long-extinct volcanic action, perhaps even smashed by meteorite strikes: boulders have tumbled down the slopes of the North Massif and left spectacular tracks down the dusty soil. The big one to the east, for instance, could have fallen and shattered any time from yesterday to four billion years ago. >e Station 6 Rock (in the lunar rover) This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. >e The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >w North Massif (in the lunar rover) Perhaps thrown by a moonquake, perhaps by long-extinct volcanic action, perhaps even smashed by meteorite strikes: boulders have tumbled down the slopes of the North Massif and left spectacular tracks down the dusty soil. The big one to the east, for instance, could have fallen and shattered any time from yesterday to four billion years ago. >e Station 6 Rock (in the lunar rover) This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. >n Really, there's no way further north without a one-man flyer (which the Apollo designers reluctantly abandoned work on). >s Apollo 17 Landing Site (in the lunar rover) Just about the exact centre of the Taurus-Littrow plain, ringed about chaotically with footprints and Lunar Rover tracks which will, perhaps, remain for millions of years. Some way off to the west, scientific instruments gleam. A sun-white ladder rises to the airlock of the lion-faced Lunar Module "Challenger", which is over three times your height. It has one leg in a small crater, and is tilting gently backwards. On another leg is a ceremonial plaque. The American flag stands here, held out by a wire frame. >n North Massif (in the lunar rover) Perhaps thrown by a moonquake, perhaps by long-extinct volcanic action, perhaps even smashed by meteorite strikes: boulders have tumbled down the slopes of the North Massif and left spectacular tracks down the dusty soil. The big one to the east, for instance, could have fallen and shattered any time from yesterday to four billion years ago. >n The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >nw The regolith extends in every direction, but there's little near enough that way of interest. >e Station 6 Rock (in the lunar rover) This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. >x boulder The house-sized boulder is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. You feel quite dwarfed by it. Actually, you're the first to see it: the only rover tracks here are your own. But the astronauts are bound to come and take a look at something like this. >climb boulder As you clamber onto the rock, you can't help noticing something much more interesting... Behind the Rock The broad, flat plain runs all around the rock, of course, and back southwest to its approaches. An extremely modern, not to say futuristic-looking, cargo pod sits here where it softlanded (perilously close to the Rock, but saved perhaps by its radar). >x pod This isn't 70s technology at all: it looks new even to you, and military at that, but bears no flag or insignia. Unmanned, of course (since it's only a two-foot barrel) it must be designed for storage of some kind. >open pod A good trick if you can do it. It's entirely unclear how the barrel opens: in fact, about the only markings on it are three small recesses, in each of which is a button. >search pod You can't see inside, since it is closed. >x buttons The recessed buttons are indistinguishable, and about a foot apart. >press button You push one, then another, then two together. Nothing happens. >u There is only black sky above. >d The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. There is no cave in the regolith. >sw You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. Station 6 Rock This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >ne The lunar soil is slippery underfoot, like walking on clay made of tiny marbles. Behind the Rock The broad, flat plain runs all around the rock, of course, and back southwest to its approaches. An extremely modern, not to say futuristic-looking, cargo pod sits here where it softlanded (perilously close to the Rock, but saved perhaps by its radar). >sw You can kick the soil loosely with your toes, like powdered charcoal. Each time your foot falls, dust spins away with machine-like precision. Station 6 Rock This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. >enter rover You get into the lunar rover. >ne Behind the Rock (in the lunar rover) The broad, flat plain runs all around the rock, of course, and back southwest to its approaches. An extremely modern, not to say futuristic-looking, cargo pod sits here where it softlanded (perilously close to the Rock, but saved perhaps by its radar). >get pod Taken. >sw Station 6 Rock (in the lunar rover) This boulder, the size of a house, is sliced into five like an irregularly-cut farmhouse loaf. There's nothing like it across the whole plain. The North Massif, Wessex Cleft and the Sculptured Hills lie across the magnificent north panorama, but the slopes are far too gruelling for any rover. >s Apollo 17 Landing Site (in the lunar rover) Just about the exact centre of the Taurus-Littrow plain, ringed about chaotically with footprints and Lunar Rover tracks which will, perhaps, remain for millions of years. Some way off to the west, scientific instruments gleam. A sun-white ladder rises to the airlock of the lion-faced Lunar Module "Challenger", which is over three times your height. It has one leg in a small crater, and is tilting gently backwards. On another leg is a ceremonial plaque. The American flag stands here, held out by a wire frame. >s Emory Crater (in the lunar rover) One of the dozen or so big impact craters in the valley, five hundred meters wide and too steep to comfortably descend. The regolith is scattered with flat boulders like stepping stones. Everywhere is crater upon crater, the piled debris of one meteor strike after another, uneroded by wind or water. In the centre of the brightest craters are little glass-lined pits. >s Regolith (in the lunar rover) Driving on the surface regolith, the cement-grey rock dust which fills lunar valleys several meters deep, you leave perfect 1/8th-inch deep tracks. The ground bears weight like freshly ploughed soil, or wet beach sand. The blue crescent of Earth hangs in a starless and Bible black sky. This is an unforgettable place. >s A Magnificent Desolation (in the lunar rover) As Buzz Aldrin put it. A ridged, furrowed plain of unraked powdery soil, dotted with pebbles and boulders of subdued grey and brown which gleam here and there with splashes of glass. Mountains rise like sand dunes from the overcurved horizon. You have landed in the southeast corner of the Taurus-Littrow Valley, an embayment between two-kilometer high Massifs to north and south, which runs eight kilometers wide to the west until it climbs foothills bordering the Mare Serenitas. The valley floor ends suddenly with Bear Mountain to the southeast. A ladder rises through the shade into the airlock of the squat and beautiful Lunar Module "Othello". >out You get out of the lunar rover. A Magnificent Desolation As Buzz Aldrin put it. A ridged, furrowed plain of unraked powdery soil, dotted with pebbles and boulders of subdued grey and brown which gleam here and there with splashes of glass. Mountains rise like sand dunes from the overcurved horizon. You have landed in the southeast corner of the Taurus-Littrow Valley, an embayment between two-kilometer high Massifs to north and south, which runs eight kilometers wide to the west until it climbs foothills bordering the Mare Serenitas. The valley floor ends suddenly with Bear Mountain to the southeast. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. A ladder rises through the shade into the airlock of the squat and beautiful Lunar Module "Othello". >up (You wriggle back in, and change out of the space suit.) Lunar Module "Othello" An early space capsule like the cockpit of a plane, bolted with banks of dials and analogue readouts like car milometers. A computer displays crude green digits; not far away is a sextant. Mass is so critical that there's no panelling over the maze of wires and pipes, and the hull is eggshell-thin. Two astronauts can just about comfortably stand by the control panel, either side of which is a triangular window. In the white ceiling, at the rear, is a hatch, shut tight; and down at knee-level, the entrance to an airlock. Black stands at the controls, dressed incongruously in jeans and a T-shirt. >ask black about pod "Questions, questions." >show pod to black But you have so little to offer Black. >give pod to black But you have so little to offer Black. >i You are carrying: Rukl's "Atlas of the Moon" a wooden broom a chit signed by Lenin a travel permit a British Army officer's uniform (being worn) a canvas rucksack (which is open) a lump of corn bread a mandolin a box of mosquito powder a Sixth Officer's jacket Place Names of Carolina a green cap a Richard's anemometer a paper dart a madeleine cake Black's Kaldecki detector a second note from Black a first aid box (which is closed) the 1911 Boy's Book of the Sea a curious device the Victorian ormolu clock Emily's sketch book a charcoal pencil a handwritten invitation card a White Star Line scribbled-on towel a folded note a white party ticket three keys: a little key a elegant key a tagged key two newspapers: an historic edition of Pravda Le Figaro a cargo capsule a gnomon the sunshade foil >d You change into the space suit, and wriggle out on your stomach through a hatch only 32 inches square. (Getting out of a lunar module has been compared to being born.) Clambering out onto the nine-rung ladder, you stretch with relief. The last step is actually quite a large one... A Magnificent Desolation As Buzz Aldrin put it. A ridged, furrowed plain of unraked powdery soil, dotted with pebbles and boulders of subdued grey and brown which gleam here and there with splashes of glass. Mountains rise like sand dunes from the overcurved horizon. You have landed in the southeast corner of the Taurus-Littrow Valley, an embayment between two-kilometer high Massifs to north and south, which runs eight kilometers wide to the west until it climbs foothills bordering the Mare Serenitas. The valley floor ends suddenly with Bear Mountain to the southeast. The Lunar Rover, a stripped-down jeep, rests neatly here. A ladder rises through the shade into the airlock of the squat and beautiful Lunar Module "Othello". >i You are carrying: a space suit (being worn) a cargo capsule a gnomon the sunshade foil >x pod This isn't 70s technology at all: it looks new even to you, and military at that, but bears no flag or insignia. Unmanned, of course (since it's only a two-foot barrel) it must be designed for storage of some kind. >hit pod Violence isn't the answer to this one. >put gnomon on pod Happily, the gnomon's three legs end in three points making a triangle one foot on a side too: and you press all three buttons at once, making the pod slide smoothly open. In the cargo capsule are Waldo and a checklist. [Your score has just gone up by one point.] >take waldo and checklist Waldo: Taken. checklist: Taken. >x checklist An embossed-plastic checklist strip of instructions for Waldo, published by FMWC Inc: Type "comm cycles" Comms FORWARD, RTURN, LTURN, SAMPLE 64 bit, 8 line technology TM >x waldo This Waldo is a robot designed for exploring such hostile environments as the Moon with minimum risk to the lives of human scientists. Unfortunately, it's very clumsy and not very clever. Waldo has one great big pink hexagonal button on its "head", a swivelling socket mounting and a rather neat little keyboard and LCD screen arrangement below (though the keys are rather small). Its one manipulator arm looks less than dextrous. >comm cycles That's not a verb I recognise. >type comm cycles You're unable to type at the delicate keyboard with such thickly gloved hands. >u (You wriggle back in, and change out of the space suit.) Black is amusingly taken with Waldo, and crouches down to rub its head. "Hello, Waldo!", says your bete noire, "What a clever robot you are! One day we'll have lots more like you and never need to go into space ourselves at all... Wonder how Kaldecki got you back from our time?" You were trying hard not to smirk, never having been the kind of person to name a car or a fridge, but it's a losing battle. Black glares, piqued. Lunar Module "Othello" An early space capsule like the cockpit of a plane, bolted with banks of dials and analogue readouts like car milometers. A computer displays crude green digits; not far away is a sextant. Mass is so critical that there's no panelling over the maze of wires and pipes, and the hull is eggshell-thin. Two astronauts can just about comfortably stand by the control panel, either side of which is a triangular window. In the white ceiling, at the rear, is a hatch, shut tight; and down at knee-level, the entrance to an airlock. Black stands at the controls, dressed incongruously in jeans and a T-shirt. >type comm cycles Waldo beeps with unease, and the screen momentarily displays * ERROR * before clearing the program and returning to the * READY * prompt. >type "comm cycles" Typing quoted text makes no sense here. >type forward Waldo beeps with unease, and the screen momentarily displays * ERROR * before clearing the program and returning to the * READY * prompt. >type forward Waldo beeps with unease, and the screen momentarily displays * ERROR * before clearing the program and returning to the * READY * prompt. >press button Which do you mean, the curious device, Waldo's hexagonal button or the recessed buttons? >waldo Which do you mean, the curious device, Waldo's hexagonal button or the recessed buttons? >press waldo button Which do you mean, the curious device, Waldo's hexagonal button or the recessed buttons? >press waldo's hexagonal button Waldo has no program at present, and activating it does nothing. >waldo, forward You can't talk to Waldo. >twist kd You set the threefold arm spinning, but after a brief moment it spins its arms up together, chiming a rough bell. The motion then dies away. >save Ok. >