Start of a transcript of TRAFFIC An adventure at five miles an hour Copyright (C) 2024, by D.S. Yu. Portions copyright Graham Nelson and David Griffith. 'TRAFFIC' comes with ABSOLUTELY NO WARRANTY Release 1 / Serial number 240910 / Inform v6.33 Library v6.12.6 SD Standard interpreter 1.2 (0) / Library Serial Number 220219 >i You're carrying: a package >x package After a bit of hassle, you managed to obtain the small package that contains even smaller isotopes. It's hard to understand how something clearly addressed to 'The Orzel Institute' managed to get misdirected to 'The Oswell Steak House'. >x box It appears to be a five-foot tall metal box, with no noteworthy markings, painted gray. There are some vents on the side, possibly for airflow, and you suspect it contains electronics of some sort. On the front is a metal door with a recessed handle that likely opens outwards. As you examine the box, a middle-aged man in a reflective safety vest, who was partly obscured by the box, examines something on the box, looks up at the lights, notices you watching him, and then quickly walks away. >x man You can't see any such thing. >x lights The traffic lights control the flow of traffic in their usual red-means-stop, green-means-go, and yellow-means-go-faster way. You've been noticing something odd about the lights. The timing is all off -- sometimes the light stays red for a moment before switching to green, sometimes it stays red for an uncomfortably long time. >open box The metal box seems to be locked. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye you see a remarkably unremarkable car speeding rather aggressively up Elm Street, wildly changing lanes and weaving between cars. At the same time, you watch as the woman pushing the baby stroller starts to push the stroller across Elm, oblivious of the car racing towards her. As she pushes the stroller into traffic, the speeding car swerves out of the way, driving up onto the sidewalk. 'I hope he knows driving on the sidewalk is frowned upon,' you manage to think, just as the car, without so much as a 'hello', plows straight into you. Your last thought is of the safety of the package you carry, already crushed into pieces against your equally crushed chest, before a sudden white light sweeps over the entire scene. *** You have died *** Or, hold on just a minute. There's something beyond all this white it seems. [Please press SPACE to continue.] In a moment you'd call 'gut-wrenching' if you still had a gut, the whiteness that defines your immediate universe is suddenly permeated by color, and you find yourself pulled, pushed, and squeezed through time and space. You have been transported, somehow, without moving an inch. You are standing at the same street corner you occupied moments ago, but the traffic is different, the sounds are different, and even the sunlight is different -- missing, actually. It seems to be early evening, at least that is certain. Your body feels out of sorts, and as you glance at your hands, you see hands that are not your own, but bigger, with more scars and dirt. As you check the rest of your body you realize that you are not yourself. Your mind occupies someone else's body. Also, you suddenly realize you are not alone. The corner of Jones and Elm You are at the corner of Jones and Elm. It's night-time, which means for this not-so-lively part of town, there's no one to be seen, and almost no cars driving along either street. A man is standing here, wearing a reflective safety vest and holding a clipboard. A large metal box painted gray is standing here, bolted to the sidewalk. >i You're carrying: a key You hear a howl from some animal off in the distance. Maybe it's someone's dog? >x man A somewhat pudgy, somewhat droopy-shouldered middle-aged man. He seems like the kind of fellow who's dependable at work and doesn't complain, but would rather be home with his wife and kids. He's dressed in a clean white shirt, slacks, and sensible but professional shoes. His reflective safety vest, worn loosely over his shirt, has a bit of wear-and-tear, but is still serviceable. He's holding a clipboard with some papers clipped to it. >talk to man You'll need to specify what you want to talk about. >ask man about box "The StopNGo X9000 is your basic traffic controller box used to set the timing of the traffic lights at the nearby intersections." "You'll probably want to open it up first. They usually keep them locked, you know, so kids don't mess with them, but you brought the key, right?" The man scratches his neck for a moment. >ask man about death "Sorry, I don't know anything about that." >ask man about traffic "I'd start with getting the controller box open first." You hear a howl from some animal off in the distance. Maybe it's someone's dog? >ask man about isotopes "Sorry, I don't know anything about that." >x clipboard John is holding a plastic clipboard with a bunch of disorganized papers clipped to it. >get clipboard The clipboard seems to belong to John. >x papers John is holding a plastic clipboard with a bunch of disorganized papers clipped to it. The man scratches his neck for a moment. >x light The traffic lights control the flow of traffic in their usual red-means-stop, green-means-go, and yellow-means-go-faster way. The lights seem to be behaving normally. >ask man about time "Forgot your watch or something Tom? It's Tuesday night, around 7PM, our usual schedule," he says. With a quiet shock, you realize this is the night before you ended up getting hit by a car at this very intersection. >open box The metal box seems to be locked. >unlock box (with the key) You unlock the metal box. "Getting colder these days. Next time I'm bringing my coat." >open box You open the metal box, revealing a controller panel. >x panel A shiny metal panel with an embossed grid-like pattern. The pattern appears to be map of street intersections, including street names and directions. Additionally, various numbers are printed at the start and end of each street, along with printed letters along each street. There's also a small screen where a number could be displayed under the Oak street letter (D) and a green button labeled 'DONE' at the bottom of the panel. Umber Elm v ^ v ^ 500 520 | | | | Jones >> 600 --+--------B--------+-- 610 >> | | | | A C | | | | Oak >> 610 --+--------D--------+-- 560 >> | ___ | | | 520 500 v ^ v ^ >ask man about panel The man peers into the open box and points at the panel. "Now, this here is your basic traffic flow panel. You've got each street and the four intersections near us, the direction of traffic with those funny double arrows, and the expected number of cars per hour. For example, see here," he says as he points, "The intesection at Jones and Umber has 600 cars travelling east from Jones, and 500 cars travelling south from Umber. The total number of cars coming into an intersection has to equal the number of cars leaving an intersection, so that means the total number of cars leaving the intersection of Jones and Umber, labeled A and B here, has to be equal to 600 + 500. Simple, right?" "Fortunately for us, we don't have to enter all values for A, B, C, and D. The X9000 has simplified things so that all we have to do is enter the correct value for D on that little screen there, and then press that green button." >ask man about d "Sorry, I don't know anything about that." You hear a howl from some animal off in the distance. Maybe it's someone's dog? >enter 610 for d You can't see any such thing. >enter 620 on panel You can't enter values into the controller panel. >x panel A shiny metal panel with an embossed grid-like pattern. The pattern appears to be map of street intersections, including street names and directions. Additionally, various numbers are printed at the start and end of each street, along with printed letters along each street. There's also a small screen where a number could be displayed under the Oak street letter (D) and a green button labeled 'DONE' at the bottom of the panel. Umber Elm v ^ v ^ 500 520 | | | | Jones >> 600 --+--------B--------+-- 610 >> | | | | A C | | | | Oak >> 610 --+--------D--------+-- 560 >> | ___ | | | 520 500 v ^ v ^ >push button on panel You can't see any such thing. >press done You hesitate briefly, your finger hovering over the green button. Then, confidently, you press the oddly enticing button. The box emits a sharp buzz and the button appears to reset itself. "You need to enter a value in that screen first," the man says. The man rubs his hands together, possibly to warm them up. >enter value The screen is not something you can enter. >type 500 What do you want to type that into? >panel You can't type values into the controller panel. >hint That's not a verb I recognise. >set d to 500 You can't set that to anything. >set panel to 500 You can't set that to anything. >use panel That's not a verb I recognise. >set d You can't set that. >ask man about panel The man peers into the open box and points at the panel. "Now, this here is your basic traffic flow panel. You've got each street and the four intersections near us, the direction of traffic with those funny double arrows, and the expected number of cars per hour. For example, see here," he says as he points, "The intesection at Jones and Umber has 600 cars travelling east from Jones, and 500 cars travelling south from Umber. The total number of cars coming into an intersection has to equal the number of cars leaving an intersection, so that means the total number of cars leaving the intersection of Jones and Umber, labeled A and B here, has to be equal to 600 + 500. Simple, right?" "Fortunately for us, we don't have to enter all values for A, B, C, and D. The X9000 has simplified things so that all we have to do is enter the correct value for D on that little screen there, and then press that green button." >enter 500 What do you want to enter that into? >panel You can't enter values into the controller panel. "Hey, did I tell you I quit smoking? Oh, I did?" >open panel There doesn't seem to be a way to open the panel with your bare hands. The key in your pocket doesn't help either -- it's not thin enough. >ask man about screwdriver "Always carry a screwdriver, I always say. Never know when you're going to need one." >ask man for screwdriver "Here you go, but I want that back." He hands over the screwdriver. "Hey, did I tell you I quit smoking? Oh, I did?" >open panel With a bit of brute force and a handy screwdriver, you pry open the panel. Amongst the wires and detrius underneath the panel, you notice a tiny switch marked 'RESET' which you press with some haste. There's a small beep. You close the panel and notice a new value in the screen. >x panel A shiny metal panel with an embossed grid-like pattern. The pattern appears to be map of street intersections, including street names and directions. Additionally, various numbers are printed at the start and end of each street, along with printed letters along each street. There's also a small screen where a number could be displayed under the Oak street letter (D) and a green button labeled 'DONE' at the bottom of the panel. Umber Elm v ^ v ^ 500 520 | | | | Jones >> 600 --+--------B--------+-- 610 >> | | | | A C | | | | Oak >> 610 --+--------D--------+-- 560 >> | 919 | | | 520 500 v ^ v ^ >push button You hesitate briefly, your finger hovering over the green button. Then, confidently, you press the oddly enticing button. There is a satisfying click from the box. Cue the fade to white. This time you were more prepared, but it still happens in a way that manages to catch you a little off guard. Even the nearly indescribable detached sensation that follows is starting to feel familiar. In less than a moment, you find yourself in a new place. You blink a couple times. Everything is exactly as it was when you started out in all of this. Did you just imagine everything? The corner of Jones and Elm It's mid-morning again, and you are waiting at the intersection of Jones street and Elm street. Traffic is moving at average speed along Jones headed east, and along Elm headed north. The traffic lights are working, and if the pedestrian walk light would ever change, you could walk across Jones and head north back to the lab. The StopNGo X9000 sits bolted to the sidewalk nearby, under one of the traffic light posts. The sidewalks are mostly devoid of pedestrians, although you do notice a woman slowly walking towards Elm street pushing a baby stroller. You notice a bus slowly trying to get through the intersection. >x light The traffic lights control the flow of traffic in their usual red-means-stop, green-means-go, and yellow-means-go-faster way. The lights seem to be behaving normally. >ask woman about traffic You can't seem to get her attention at all. She's completely distracted by her phone. >x bus It's one of those local lines that goes along Jones St, but it must be behind schedule (no thanks to all the traffic). It looks like it might not make it through the intersection before the light changes. As you look at the all the riders packed in the bus, you notice one particular businessman, glancing through the window your way. The expression on his face is one of acute discomfort. >x businessman A businessman in a frumbled suit catches your eye. He's seated on the rather crowded bus trying to get through the intersection. You can see sadness and discomfort in his eyes. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye you see a remarkably unremarkable car speeding rather aggressively up Elm Street, wildly changing lanes and weaving between cars. At the same time, you watch as the woman pushing the baby stroller starts to push the stroller across Elm, oblivious of the car racing towards her. As she pushes the stroller into traffic, the speeding car swerves out of the way, driving up onto the sidewalk. 'I hope he knows driving on the sidewalk is frowned upon,' you manage to think, just as the car, without so much as a 'hello', plows straight into you. Your last thought is of the safety of the package you carry, already crushed into pieces against your equally crushed chest, before a sudden white light sweeps over the entire scene. *** You have died *** Or, hold on just a minute. There's something beyond all this white it seems. [Please press SPACE to continue.] Without much warning, everything around you fades to a clean white nothingness. You'd be blinking furiously right about now if you still had eyelids under your control. Distinct figures appear in the whiteness just as suddenly, and you take a moment to place yourself. As the world rushes back, you find yourself seated. On a bus. A bus packed with people, uncomfortably warm, with loud with noises from every direction. You feel sweat dripping along your brow, and as you raise your arm to wipe it off, you notice you're wearing a well-fitting business suit. You've swapped bodies with an average-height business man, possibly in his late 30s, likely late to work. You feel the bus lurch forward, only to shudder to a stop a few seconds later. You glance out the window and realize you're on that bus trying to cross the Elm and Jones street intersection. On Jones heading towards Racine (in bus) You're sitting on a hot crowded bus barely moving along Jones Street. There's a boombox on the floor of the bus right in front of you blasting music at a remarkably high volume. You can also see an elderly woman here. >x woman There's an elderly woman standing here. She looks quite upset and bothered. "I hate this bus," she keeps yelling at no one in particular. >ask woman about traffic You can't seem to get the elderly woman's attention due to the noise from the boom box. >x boom box You can't see any such thing. >x boombox It seems to be some cheap import model, the size of a small suitcase, with two huge speakers. It's on and turned up to a head-splittingly high volume. It is currently playing a talk show segment about road construction noise complaints. The bus lurches forward half a foot, then stops. >turn off boombox As you turn the boombox off, there's a collective sigh of relief from people nearby, including the elderly woman. You briefly smell something rather noxious, maybe fuel, then it goes away. >smell The unpleasent scents of sweat and burning motor oil pervade the air. You briefly smell something rather noxious, maybe fuel, then it goes away. >exit bus The bus is so crowded you can't even see the doors from where you are. Rather than push through the wall of passengers, you decide to stay where you are. >ask woman about traffic "There's so much traffic today!" >ask woman about lights There is no reply. You watch a car aggressively drive past the bus, only to screech to a stop shortly after. >x car You can't see any such thing. >z Time passes. Suddenly, the elderly woman decides she can't take it anymore. She aggressively shoves her way through the crowd until she reaches the back door. Then, with a surprising show of strength, she forces the back doors open. This causes the bus to come to a screeching halt, at which point the passenger hops off the bus and walks off into the street. Like a really impatient fog, whiteness rushes in to replace your world. The fog doesn't stick around very long though, and soon you start to see objects unveiled in the fog. You steady yourself for someplace new. You've looped back to where this all started once again. The corner of Jones and Elm It's mid-morning again, and you are waiting at the intersection of Jones street and Elm street. Traffic is moving at average speed along Jones headed east, and along Elm headed north. The traffic lights are working, and if the pedestrian walk light would ever change, you could walk across Jones and head north back to the lab. The StopNGo X9000 sits bolted to the sidewalk nearby, under one of the traffic light posts. The sidewalks are mostly devoid of pedestrians, although you do notice a woman slowly walking towards Elm street pushing a baby stroller. You notice a bus slowly trying to get through the intersection. >x bus It's one of those local lines that goes along Jones St, but it must be behind schedule (no thanks to all the traffic). It looks like it might not make it through the intersection before the light changes. As you look at the all the riders packed in the bus, you notice one particular businessman, glancing through the window your way. The expression on his face is one of acute discomfort. >x businessman A businessman in a frumbled suit catches your eye. He's seated on the rather crowded bus trying to get through the intersection. You can see sadness and discomfort in his eyes. >x lights The traffic lights control the flow of traffic in their usual red-means-stop, green-means-go, and yellow-means-go-faster way. The lights seem to be behaving normally. >x woman A young woman is dutifully pushing a covered baby stroller that you're fairly sure holds a baby. She seems somewhat distracted, with most of her attention diverted to her rather large mobile device. But wait, just now, you saw the top of a tiny little bald head appear from within the stroller. Two tiny blue eyes meet your gaze, before the baby disappears back into the stroller. >get baby I don't suppose the woman would care for that. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye you see a remarkably unremarkable car speeding rather aggressively up Elm Street, wildly changing lanes and weaving between cars. At the same time, you watch as the woman pushing the baby stroller starts to push the stroller across Elm, oblivious of the car racing towards her. As she pushes the stroller into traffic, the speeding car swerves out of the way, driving up onto the sidewalk. 'I hope he knows driving on the sidewalk is frowned upon,' you manage to think, just as the car, without so much as a 'hello', plows straight into you. Your last thought is of the safety of the package you carry, already crushed into pieces against your equally crushed chest, before a sudden white light sweeps over the entire scene. *** You have died *** Or, hold on just a minute. There's something beyond all this white it seems. [Please press SPACE to continue.] A white haze like a strange dimensional snow-storm blankets you into a place between 'here' and 'there'. A sensation best described as a 'visual sneeze' blows past and unthaws brand new objects in a new location. As the world rushes back, you find yourself seated. On a bus. A bus packed with people, uncomfortably warm, with loud with noises from every direction. You feel sweat dripping along your brow, and as you raise your arm to wipe it off, you notice you're wearing a well-fitting business suit. You've swapped bodies with an average-height business man, possibly in his late 30s, likely late to work. You feel the bus lurch forward, only to shudder to a stop a few seconds later. You glance out the window and realize you're on that bus trying to cross the Elm and Jones street intersection. On Jones heading towards Racine (in bus) You're sitting on a hot crowded bus barely moving along Jones Street. There's a boombox on the floor of the bus right in front of you blasting music at a remarkably high volume. You can also see an elderly woman here. >turn off boombox As you turn the boombox off, there's a collective sigh of relief from people nearby, including the elderly woman. You watch a car aggressively drive past the bus, only to screech to a stop shortly after. >open door The bus is not something you can open. You watch a car aggressively drive past the bus, only to screech to a stop shortly after. >open back door You can't see any such thing. >ask woman about isotopes There is no reply. The bus lurches forward half a foot, then stops. >open back doors You can't see any such thing. >grab woman That's not a verb I recognise. >exit bus The bus is so crowded you can't even see the doors from where you are. Rather than push through the wall of passengers, you decide to stay where you are. >yell You let out a scream, which is oddly cathartic. You briefly smell something rather noxious, maybe fuel, then it goes away. >stop bus I only understood you as far as wanting to stop. >leave bus The bus is so crowded you can't even see the doors from where you are. Rather than push through the wall of passengers, you decide to stay where you are. You briefly smell something rather noxious, maybe fuel, then it goes away. >x window You're not far from one of the windows on the bus. The window is currently closed. >open window You reach over and push open the window slightly, letting a cool breeze into the bus. Several people, including the elderly woman, silently nod in thanks. >stand up You stand up out of your seat. Within seconds, someone quickly slides into the vacated seat and sighs with relief. Suddenly, the elderly woman decides she can't take it anymore. She aggressively shoves her way through the crowd until she reaches the back door. Then, with a surprising show of strength, she forces the back doors open. This causes the bus to come to a screeching halt, at which point the passenger hops off the bus and walks off into the street. Cue the fade to white. This time you were more prepared, but it still happens in a way that manages to catch you a little off guard. Even the nearly indescribable detached sensation that follows is starting to feel familiar. In less than a moment, you find yourself in a new place. You feel stretched and then squashed into a new form. Everything feels unfamiliar, bright, too loud. You open your eyes and find yourself on your back, looking up at the blue sky. You try to get up, and your body refuses to respond, instead twisting and popping in an awkward fashion. You reach a hand out to grab something, anything, and notice that your hand, your arm, your whole body, is tiny and undeveloped. Tiny little fingers on a tiny little hand flex open and closed. Your body has become that of a tiny infant, lying in a bed of a stroller of some sort. You feel the great urge to let out a loud wail. On Elm Between Jones and Oak (inside stroller) You are on the sidewalk on Elm street, likely somewhere between Jones and Oak streets. More specifically, you are inside a baby stroller with raised walls on all sides and a curved half-canopy above, being pushed along the sidewalk on Elm street. There is a woman slowly pushing the stroller. You can also see a blanket here. >x blanket A simple white blanket, mostly clean. >search blanket Tugging and kicking your tiny limbs at the blanket, you uncover a pacifier that got buried underneath. >get pacifier Taken. >use pacifier That's not a verb I recognise. >put pacifier in mouth You can't see any such thing. >wear pacifier You can't wear that. >suck on pacifier That's not a verb I recognise. >x woman A young woman is dutifully pushing the baby stroller that you currently occupy. She is completely focused on the large fancy mobile phone she awkwardly holds in one of her hands. >sit up I only understood you as far as wanting to sit. >yell You let out a scream, which is oddly cathartic. The woman continues to push the stroller and reaches the edge of the sidewalk. Still absorbed in her phone, she starts to push the stroller across the street, when a car moving far too fast narrowly avoids the woman (and you, in the stroller) by driving up on the sidewalk and continuing onwards, also on the sidewalk. There is an awful screech followed by a more awful crashing noise. "What was that?" the woman asks, looking up from her phone for the first time. From some distorted magic wand a splash of white is cast across your senses. It's easy to dismiss this as some sort of 'magic', but you lack the ability to describe the feeling in a way that would have any real-world meaning. Brushing off the higher-order pixie dust, you blink into a new place. You've looped back to where this all started once again. The corner of Jones and Elm It's mid-morning again, and you are waiting at the intersection of Jones street and Elm street. Traffic is moving at average speed along Jones headed east, and along Elm headed north. The traffic lights are working, and if the pedestrian walk light would ever change, you could walk across Jones and head north back to the lab. The StopNGo X9000 sits bolted to the sidewalk nearby, under one of the traffic light posts. The sidewalks are mostly devoid of pedestrians, although you do notice a woman slowly walking towards Elm street pushing a baby stroller. You notice a bus slowly trying to get through the intersection. >x bus It's one of those local lines that goes along Jones St, but it must be behind schedule (no thanks to all the traffic). It looks like it might not make it through the intersection before the light changes. As you look at the all the riders packed in the bus, you notice one particular businessman, glancing through the window your way. The expression on his face is one of acute discomfort. >x woman A young woman is dutifully pushing a covered baby stroller that you're fairly sure holds a baby. She seems somewhat distracted, with most of her attention diverted to her rather large mobile device. But wait, just now, you saw the top of a tiny little bald head appear from within the stroller. Two tiny blue eyes meet your gaze, before the baby disappears back into the stroller. >x baby A young woman is dutifully pushing a covered baby stroller that you're fairly sure holds a baby. She seems somewhat distracted, with most of her attention diverted to her rather large mobile device. >get phone You rush up to the woman pushing the stroller and try to take her phone. She pulls her phone away from you, acting as if you are trying to steal her most prized possession. The woman screams and cowers, clearly distracted and disturbed by your actions. Moments later, a speeding car dashes by, just barely missing both you and the woman (and her stroller, thankfully). You check yourself and determine that you successfully evaded death and broke the loop. "That was simple," you think to yourself. "Why didn't I try that sooner?" A moment later, several bystanders appear from nowhere and tackle you to the ground. One person calls the police, who arrive within minutes. You try and explain your actions to the officer, but he finds your story unconvincing, handcuffs you, and puts you in his squad car to take to the station. Dr. Roth's package delivery will have to wait, it seems. *** You have been incarcerated *** In that game you scored 0 out of a possible 0, in 76 turns. Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game or QUIT? >restart