Don't turn off the game!

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Oof, so much for picking up the pace. The spirit remains willing. but the real-life schedule sucks. Well, hope springs eternal. Anyway, this seems as good a time as any to hook up with Dante's pal in the underground, Aldous Xenon.

Upon entering Xenon's loft, we automatically enter conversation. Nice mural there, by the way, Al.

Hold it right there; don't move! ...OK, you can come in now.

What was that all about?

He was scanning us. Scanner had a motion stabilizer on it, too. Move and it stabilizes you. Stabilizes you as in "poof"!

Very good! How did you know? You couldn't find those scanners if you reduced this place to toothpicks.

I dunno! To tell you the truth, it...it just came to me. Weird. I guess it's just something I picked up somewhere. Anyway, I take it Dante told you we were coming.

Yes. You'll have to forgive the scanner check; standard precautions. Anyway, actually, when Dante mentioned you, I asked him to send you. I thought a couple of renegade ARC agents could prove...useful. ARC agent, ARC agent...ever notice how much that sounds like "archangel"?

Can't say that I have.

Dante seemed to think you could help us.

Oh, there's no doubt we could help you. The question is, are you going to help us?

You said yourself a couple of former ARC agents would come in handy. We can help out, some.

Some, some. Some's not enough my dear. You think the Resistance is staffed by part-timers working their way through school? Don't tell me you can help "some".

Rather nice line, that.

Take it easy, pal. Rachel just has a little trouble with the concept of total war against somebody we just quit working for, somebody we gave heart and soul to.

Well, there's more to it than Solux, but cutting off the leader of a rotten system should help considerably. Snakes rarely regrow their heads.

What are you talking about?

You still want in? It's got to be more than shelter in a storm. You've got to help us. I've got an assignment that only someone with a background like yours could pull off. It would involve swooping down and leveling a mortal blow against your former employer, the Hand of God itself.

All right, I'm in. I guess I just can't find any more excuses for Solux.

That's because there are none, which is why your assignment is to kill the Imperator.

What, are you out of your friggin' mind? Solux has so much security around, it's suicide to even think about it. Shit, they probably COULD kill you for thinking about it. Solux probably has psionic bodyguards.

Three of them, to be precise...a reconnaissance that cost us the lives of two freedom fighters. We've even heard they've developed something called a resonator shield. Supposedly, Solux wears a device that is programmed to recognize the vibrations of various grades of bullets, in flight. The rifling of the bullets apparently slices through the air with a detectable resonance. The device emits an aura that matches the vibrations, thereby disrupting the flight, slowing up the bullets so much they literally bounce off the wearer. In any case, true or not, that kind of personal security is why we're not going after Solux.

Wait a minute, I thought you said...

We're going after Solux's car.

The Solene-o-zene? C'mon, that's gotta have security every bit as tight as the protection around Solux...and even if you got through to it, wouldn't they scan it for every type of demo device imaginable?

They've put most of their effort into guarding the building the car is in. They figure if the compound is secure, the contents are secure...but there's a lot of business in and out of that building. Getting past the initial security shouldn't be impossible. From there, you've just got a team of 24-hour mechanics to outwit. As for the device, take a look; it's a homing mechanism, not a bomb. The bomb comes later, when the car is in motion...and occupied.

Still, they'll detect it right away, even if it is a tiny little thing. They'll find it long before Solux gets anywhere near.

Look again. This thing has an anti-scanning shield that cost us dearly. The final mechanism contains no demolitions and it emits no radio waves; it's virtually undetectable.

So how does it work?

It simply hums in response to engine vibration. That means we can use a resonance impactor: a smart bomb that homes in on the particular frequency of this little hummer.

Wouldn't be the first time the national figurehead was brought low by a little hummer, I suppose.

Wow, what a great deal! All we have to do is go out and get ourselves killed for the Resistance. Actually, probably tortured, THEN killed! And in return, you'll...you'll...what?

What'd you expect? You think you could just sit around our various safe houses and twiddle your thumbs? You want to be safe and secure, you've got to help us topple the Androgyne. No one will ever really be safe as long as the Hand rules America!

He's right, Rach. Besides, we owe the old girl. Er, guy. Whatever. Hell, you know, we kill Solux, they might finally find out what sex that character is.

Oh, there's a good reason to do it!

For whatever it's worth, you survive, and I'll bring you to Senator Burr, the leader of the Resistance. Killing Solux has been my main orientation for years; it won't be the end of the struggle, but it will be the beginning of the end. It will bring us that much closer to freedom, and it will rejuvenate the entire movement.

His main "orientation"? Anyway, Aldous is kind of a jerk, but he's probably one of the better-written characters in the game. He comes off as very cautious, very focused, and very cold...an appropriate attitude for a ranker in a covert and highly dangerous resistance movement.

Gimme the device, Xenon.

It's right over there, and you know where the Solene-o-zene is: the garage at the Pentagon. Good luck.

Now that we're done chatting, we can take our usual look around the room.

Examine
Aldous Xenon's Loft: It looks like just another messy warehouse loft, but lofts are often where society's outsiders take up residence, and where art...and revolution...is often made.

Aldous Xenon: A lean man with a distracted look to him; either he's been reading a book of poetry all day, or he's lost in thought on how to kill somebody.

Homing Device: Known as a "hummer", this small handheld homing device is made especially for use on automobiles.

Gideon gets himself a hummer, then he and Rachel bugger off to the Pentagon garage.

Examine
Pentagon Garage Office: It looks like a typical garage office, if you overlook the fact that the occupants aren't mechanics but security people.

Dispatcher (left): The garage dispatcher, a surly slob, is on the paging system, dispatching government vehicles to locations throughout the capital.

Guard (right): A large guard seems more interested in the bucket of barbecued ribs he holds than in performing his duty.

Talk to Dispatcher

Yeah? You guys from the Polish sausage place down the street? Think you guys take long enough to deliver a couple lousy sandwiches? We're starving down here! Garage 16, we need an XF5700 limo down at the Watergate, pronto, over.

No, we're here on official business.

I see you've already been snooping around the place. Sector 7, do you have a hovervan serviced and ready, over? ...Listen, what's your business here?

This brings up a conversation menu with a number of options. Only the paging one is useful, but as usual, I'll suck out all the sweet, nutritious dialogue.

(We want to register a delivery.)

Uh, yeah, we've got some parts out in the truck. We're with Shank Tools.

Sorry, ain't nothin' from Shank scheduled. You'll need to file bills of transit, receipt, and lading in triplicate, and initial customs, decontamination, and tariff affidavits in addition to submitting the shipment and vehicle to molecular scans. A real pain in the prostate! Why don't you come back on someone else's shift?

(We'd like to have someone paged.)

Listen, I've dealt with you guys before. I don't have time for all your bureaucratic bullshit. If you know who you're looking for, I'll page 'em for ya.

Oh. Quick, make something up!

We got no one here with that name. See for yourself. Listen, if you're gonna come in here and bust my balls, at least know what you're after.

Aww.

(We want to submit a work order.)

Sorry, this crew only repairs vehicles.

(We want to collect a paycheck.)

If you're busted, that's your problem. Heh. This ain't payday, and this ain't no charity ward, so don't go looking for handouts.

Talk to Guard

"Hey, this guard in the Pentagon garage office...he's kind of boring. We need some kind of character quirk." "Man, I could go for some ribs right about now." "YOU'RE A GODDAMN GENIUS. And I shall call him...Ribsy."

Um, hold on, be with you in a second. Mmmm, these ribs, I love these ribs! They rip up my stomach, but I love 'em. Let me just wipe my hands. Don't wanna get sauce all over your papers! Now then, what can I do for you?

Uh, parts delivery! Got a truck idlin' out front with a load of axles and exhaust systems. Where do you want 'em?

Parts? What, axles? I don't know no axles. You gotta have a level-four pass to get in here, and I don't care if you're bringin' me axles or thirty pounds of ribs! Hah! Heh heh heh. Let me see your pass if you got one.

Talk to Guard again

What is this? Am I speakin' in tongues or something? A pass! I need a level-four pass!

Hey, what's that thing we found in Sophia Bene's inventory?

Oh yeah! Use Sophia's forger skill on the pass template, and...

There you have it.

Examine
Level-4 Pass: Created, as it was, by one of the underground's most proficient forgers, this level-4 pass is practically guaranteed to help you get past the level of security that they have at places like, say, the garage where they keep Solene Solux's car.

Boners. Here you go, Ribsy!

That was easy enough! You gave me a pass, and now you can pass. Ah heh heh heh heh!

With that, our path to the garage proper is clear.

Examine
Solux's Pentagon Garage: It's an awfully spacious garage for just three cars: the Solenozene, and two of Solux's weekend sports cars.

Mechanic: A mechanic is at work under the hood of the Imperator's parade vehicle.

Mechanic's Creeper: For all the techno-advancements of 2095, they still haven't found a better way to get at the underbelly of a motor vehicle than a platform on four little wheels.

Solene's Limo: The Solene-o-zene, Solene Solux's official limo.

If we try to use the hummer on the limo right away, we get the following message:

The mechanic does not allow you to get close enough to the vehicle!

Botheration. Maybe we can social-engineer our way through this one.

Talk to Mechanic

Yeah, what's up? I got my hands full of vacuum tubes here.

We're Artificial Reality Containment. Got a report on someone down here using a VR emissions unit.

How the blue hell is THAT supposed to work? Distract the populace with a rousing game of Dactyl Nightmare long enough to keep them from noticing the smog?

Are you kidding? What do I look like, someone who's lookin' to get set up with the Prince of Darkness or what? Listen, I don't mess with nothin' that's not regulation. I'm strictly by the book here. I got my hands full just keepin' this thing running.

Well, we just want to take a look. It'll just take a second, really.

Listen, I've taken this thing apart and rebuilt it more times than I care to remember. What would I need with unauthorized tech to cut corners? I know what I'm doin'!

Talk to Mechanic again

Hey, do you people have jobs to go to or what? I work for a living. Now get the hell outta here!

That won't do. However, if we take a closer look at the lunchbox on the garage floor, we see this:

Jo Boyle, eh?

Armed with a name, we grab the mechanic's creeper (hey, adventure game), and return to the office to try the paging option again.

Let's check the roster here. Name doesn't ring a bell.

Check again, old man. You know, a blot on your record for uncooperative behavior with the Bureau doesn't fare well when, say, you're in need of a government service!

So I'm dealing with a couple of ballbusters here. Fine. Jo Boyle, get your ass to the Dispatcher's Office, over! ...Now if you don't mind, I work for a living.

Now, if we head back to Solux's car...

Voila! No more Jo.

Aaand hummer attached. Let's hurry back to Xenon to report our success!

Talk to Aldous Xenon

Incredible job, man. We'll have to wait and see if the device works, but you've gotten it hidden on the Solene-o-zene. In the meantime, it's time for you to meet Senator Burr. You're one of us now. Go to the British Embassy. It's in Dupont Circle.

Meeting the Senator moves us into the next big story segment of the game, but before we do so, we might as well take care of one more lead we got from Frank Jersey: Jean Saint Mouchoir's computer at the Transgressions building. That'll lead to some new avenues for chasing down more information on the other Night of Re-Entombment scrubs; after all, we still don't know why the Hand put out a hit on us. So, next time on IPAT: Hell...Transgressions and side-quest-o-rama!
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un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

This update is going to be rather light on actual screenshots and very heavy on transcription; I'd forgotten quite how enormous a textdump Jean St. Mouchoir's computer is. His recordings are pretty much the equivalent of a Resident Evil game dropping a 10-pound sheaf of files on you, all at once. Lots of backstory and world-color if that's your thing, but the wanderings and investigatings won't properly resume until next episode.

Examine
Transgressions: It's just a locked door, but nobody knows how to lock a door like a government security agent.

Locked, eh? Well, we've got that picklock implant Dr. Clean installed on the G-man's skin. I wonder if that'll work.

Oh! Thanks, game!

And here we are: the office of Jean St. Mouchoir, high-ranking Transgressions officer. Way back at the beginning of the game, Frank Jersey told us not to risk meeting up with the man himself, but to search his extensive voice diaries for information that could help sort out our little personal mystery. First, the customary round of look-at-everything!

Examine
Jean St. Mouchoir's Office: The hush of privacy clings to this room, as if the dedicated occupant has worked there, sweated there, worried there for a long time. There's the couch, the worn leather chair...even the computer seems to have taken on his personality.

Pencil: An ordinary pencil.

Mouchoir's Computer: Jean St. Mouchoir's computer, where his daily working caseload is stored as well as classified Transgressions records, an operations/investigations database...and some personal notes, too.

In other words, digital swag and lots of it. Yar!

Crap.

This never fails!

CRAP

This calls for sleuthing! If we examine the tablet to the right of the keyboard, we see this:

If you look VERY closely, you might be able to see the faint imprint of some writing. Time to grab the pencil and do the ol' detective-movie notepad trick. This results in...

A Jackie Treehorn boner doodle!

...OK, not really.

By the way, Jean, that's still a terrible password. >:(

Anyway, that gets us past the basic level of security, though some of the more sensitive entries are individually locked with additional passwords or other measures. The top level of files contains eight items, viz:

Ooh, we rate our own entry! Some of these are standalone files, while others contain submenus of related topics. Incidentally, Jean St. Mouchoir is voiced by Geoffrey Holder, who also provides Mouchoir's face; his voiceover makes this extremely wordy stretch of Hell a lot more entertaining than it would be otherwise, because man, I could listen to that accent all day. I'll provide some of the more fun clips in mp3 form at the end of this entry.

Anyway, let's check out DEMONS!

...Which turns out to be a container for a submenu consisting of UNHOLY TRINITY, PAZUZU AND ASMODEUS, and MR. BEAUTIFUL, as seen above. Well, let's get to reading.

THE UNHOLY TRIO: BELIAL, BEELZEBUB, & MEPHISTOPHELES: The demons continue to trouble me, especially the unholy triumvirate: Belial, Beelzebub, and Mephistopheles. I realize, of course, that the Hand cannot eradicate supernatural immortal beings. They're all a part of God's plan, the plan that Solux enacts here on earth. So, according to the Imperator's directions, we condemn people to serve under these hell lords. We send them to their lairs to serve their sentences.

PAZUZU, ASMODEUS: I made a run with a squad of rookies today, and we caught a blatant sinner, a man who's been haunting the Ford's Theater area exhibiting himself. We had to let him go. Seems he works for Asmodeus. We're never supposed to prosecute people involved with the Hell Syndicate: Asmodeus, the demon filmmaker, or Pazuzu, aka Mr. Beautiful...gambler, drug dealer, wiseguy. Don't know why we can't prosecute these guys, besides the fact that they're actually demons, and we probably can't catch them if we wanted to. They must fit into the plan somehow.

MR. BEAUTIFUL: Captain Thorn decided to use Beautiful to complete the case we were building against the Smoke Cowboys, a gang of technology outlaws. I had a scrub team arrest the Cowboys. We charged them with violating the artificial realities ban, and Beautiful supplied the judge with all the evidence we needed to send the Cowboys to Belial's pits! Ha-ha.

And back up to the root directory to check into Dean Sterling...

DEAN STERLING: Some of the men are suspicious about a freelance demon hunter we're monitoring. His name is Dean Sterling. He has been having some real success! He eliminated a score of minor and mid-level demons, and now we hear he's after the big ones...Asmodeus, Beautiful, any of them that are brazen enough to walk the earth. It is understood in the department that some of the demons are untouchable, but Sterling has the freedom to choose his target at will. As for me, I will neither hinder nor assist Mr. Sterling. He has made his presence felt, and the demons are nervous about him. As far as I'm concerned, he's a genuine good guy.

When we try to access CITIZENS FREEDOM FRONT, we're prompted for another password, along with...somewhat inexplicably...a simple formula for figuring out what it is. Between the basic password scrawled in huge letters across his notepad and the deeper-level passwords providing hints up front, one assumes Mouchoir must have the memory of a goldfish.

The passwords will always be some name or term you encounter elsewhere in the game, so it's usually pretty easy to work them out according to the rules above. For example, this one is just a section of DC we've visited before...

Transgressions had better hope the Front never figures out dictionary attacks.

Anyway! CITIZENS FREEDOM FRONT is a container for SENATOR ERIN BURR (!), CFF, and CFF HISTORY.

Yes, the Senator Burr we were pointed toward in the last episode is named Erin. Erin Burr.

Really.

SENATOR ERIN BURR: Ha ha ha ha ha! I've just received this month's collection of Senator Burr sightings from our agents in the field. Amazing woman, amazing woman, this Burr! She is seemingly in several places at once! Of course we know that she is inside the British Embassy here in Washington, where she has been granted political refuge, but we have discovered that there are ways in and out of the embassy. On several occasions, Burr has escaped the embassy, thus feeding the paranoia among ARC agents that she is everywhere.

THE CITIZENS' FREEDOM FRONT: The recent sweep of the CFF shadow government leaves the so-called Freedom Front effectively crippled. The CFF has been fanatically dedicated to its cause. Our best estimate of their membership is in the thousands, although the leadership proper is small and cohesive.

CFF HISTORY: What we know about the CFF is extensive, but not particularly useful. They were founded after the Imperator's ascension by a quartet consisting of a Methodist minister, a Catholic priest, a rabbi, and a Muslim iman. They quickly moved into political activity when they were joined by former government figures, including Erin Burr, who had resigned rather than serve under the Hand.

GOVERNMENT OPERATIONS gives us NIGHT OF THE TITANS, NIGHT OF RE-ENTOMBMENT, MASSIMO EDDY, ARTIFICIAL REALITY CONTAINMENT.

NIGHT OF THE TITANS reqires another access code. This one's a little tougher, since it gives you so few letters to work with. The answer, in any case, is Hell Pit.

NIGHT OF THE TITANS: Transgressions recently launched dozens of scrub teams on a coordinated sweep of the CFF shadow cabinet, a strike against the Resistance that has been over a year in the making. Codenamed Night of the Titans, it is truly a historical occasion.

After this short description, NoTT brings up another submenu: RANDAL SINGH, TOWNSON ELLERS, BRETT CAREW, EDDY COMMERCE.

RANDAL SINGH: Probably the most interesting figure we nailed in our sweep was a Front operative we've been keeping under close observation for a while now, a man named Randal Singh. I am not certain of his status with the CFF, but we suspected him of being fairly important.

TOWNSON ELLERS: The sweep of the CFF shadow cabinet also netted Townson Ellers, a former British ambassador. We believe he has been helping Burr to establish a diplomatic corps-in-waiting and has been consulting her on world economic matters as well. We suspect he has been a regular conduit between Burr and foreign governments concerning efforts to apply international pressure on the Hand.

BRETT CAREW: Perhaps the only dissident whose apprehension I regretted was Brett Carew's. Carew is one of the three or four writers Solux has banned, and she has been apprehended in the recent CFF sweep. The charges against her are weak, just rumors that she writes some of Senator Burr's pirate broadcasts.

EDDY COMMERCE: I confess that I do not get the joke. Melissa and I saw Commerce perform years ago, when he was legal. I do not find this man to be funny, much less someone capable of being a subversive figure. The filthy language, the personal attacks against the Imperator, the monologues about free expression! I thought it a mistake to include him in the recent crackdown. Arrests like these only risk making martyrs of people who pose no threat to the Hand.

Back up to GOVERNMENT OPERATIONS we go, where we find that NIGHT OF RE-ENTOMBMENT, which is very Relevant to Our Interests, has a password we can't figure out yet, dammit. Technically, if you already know it from an earlier playthrough (or spoiler, or FAQ), you can enter the code now...it's the name of a character we haven't met yet...but I'm going to avoid unnecessary sequence breakage in this run.

MASSIMO EDDIE: Last night there was another Massimo Eddie broadcast, another vision of hell. Massimo is the first man who was damned to hell and lived to tell of his experience. There was Eddie, paint splashed on his face, ranting about his trip to hell, bursting into sudden screams of "The color, the colors!" then "Whoooaaaaa...fire, all is aflame, all is aflame! Whooo!" He would speak and the demons that possess him would taunt him from within, ooh, from within a terribly frightening exhibit that reminds viewers what there is to fear about hell. Periodically, the Hand drags him out to broadcast his bizarre visions to the nation. He has developed a cult following of people expecting wisdom from the mad Massimo. I fear those people will be disappointed. I doubt this lost soul has anything to teach.

At this point, we can enter a code to learn the location of Massimo Eddy, thus making it accessible on the map, but we don't have that yet.

ARC: Reality Containment was outraged after two of its agents were targeted in the latest scrub team action. I don't know what the executives in the Five Fingers had in mind when they included Gideon Eshanti and Rachel Braque on the scrub list. There were ways of making them disappear without setting ARC and Transgressions at odds with one another. The question remains, why? What were Eshanti and Braque involved in that demanded they be eliminated in such a high-profile fashion? Rumors are that the order to kill them came directly from the Imperator!

Back up to the root directory again.

RACHEL BRAQUE & GIDEON ESHANTI: Looking through back files today and found I had one on Braque and Eshanti. I'd forgotten, but it seems I tried to recruit them myself a couple of years ago when I heard about the great job they were doing at ARC...but to outduel the scrub team, they were obviously more talented than any of us realized. Their work with ARC was top-notch even though they had a reputation of going easy on minor criminals. Still, their character was somewhat questionable.

Questionable? Well, I never!

FRINGE OPERATIONS has another puzzle-password. It's an easy one, as the answer is right up there in the earlier files: Dean Sterling.

We can now enter another submenu: GNEO-GNOSTICS, PSIONIC LEAGUE, ESCHATOLOGY INCORPORATED, MEATS.

GNEO-GNOSTICS: In ancient times, the Gnostics were heretical sects whose beliefs were at odds with early Christianity; they believed that human transcendence was directly achievable. The Gneos may be just one more group of cyberspace outlaws with designs on founding virtual colonies in the global net. If the latter is true, Transgressions will scrub them. We may do that in any event if the need for a high-profile bust arises. Database update: Gnostics headquartered near Capital South station.

PSIONIC LEAGUE: Of the dozens of illegal operations we monitor, the Psionic League is the most dangerous threat to stability...especially if the leader, Columbus Spatola, should ever decide to politicize his organization. The League has been tolerated to this point because it is the inspiration for similar groups. No one better knows the dangers of unrestrained psionic ability than Spatola. He's one of the most powerful psionics on the planet. His life is a case study of the hardships that psionics endure when forced to master their abilities alone. His early hardships led to the founding of the League and his near-fanatical belief in the benevolent use of the power. Database update: Psionic League headquartered in Georgetown.

ESCHATOLOGY INCORPORATED: Recent intelligence reveals that Hercule Rue Des Couers and his researchers are no closer to learning any of hell's essential secrets. Des Couers serves his purpose. His obsession with hell, his attempts to map it and to catalogue its horrors, help to maintain the public's fear. Database update: Eschatology Incorporated headquartered in Watergate.

MEATS: Data from Reality Containment shows an increase in illegal attempts to reproduce the human tissue lab of New Corporeal Biologics. Officially named Server Units, New Corp's infamous products are widely referred to as meats. Meats epitomize the relentless perversion of God's creations by human hands. As so with many nightmares, it all started with good intentions. The goal of providing servant machines for the masses was lofty and laudable. But when the meats were introduced into the market, the public was outraged. The meats were twisted parodies of humanity, flesh without souls. Within six months, the meats were a moral scandal. When several developed cancers, it was more cost-effective for New Corporeal to discard the entire tissue casing than it was to perform surgery. One hate group began to burn meats in public. The meats were withdrawn from the market, and New Corporeal closed. Now, outlaw entrepreneurs seek to revive the technology for use in foreign markets. Such criminal efforts are precisely what Transgressions and ARC were formed to combat. Database update: New Corporeal Biologics defunct laboratory located near Federal Center SW.

Each of the four entries under FRINGE OPERATIONS unlocks a new location on the map. Three of them have information we'll need about the less fortunate targets of the Night of Re-Entombment; those will be our next stops, before we go to meet Senator Burr and the CFF. The remaining location, Psionic League headquarters, leads to a honking big string of subquests I'm in no hurry to deal with. Anyway, once more unto the root menu!

SOLENE SOLUX: We had an interoffice holo-conference call from the Imperator today. The Imperator discussed the recent actions against the CFF. Solux pointed out that the CFF was still operating...the sweep had failed to net Erin Burr...and that an even greater effort must be made. The entire performance was classic Solux. It reminded me of the Imperator's ascension to power, when Solux would inspire tens of thousands of people at mass rallies, saying things that would make the crowd leap to its feet and roar its devotion. When Solux finally ascended to power it was as if Earth had become a new planet. People were sick of how society had crumbled into a crime-ridden, godless free-fire zone. The Hand of God proved an apt name because that was the way Solux promised to administer justice: as if enacted by the Lord himself. And it has come to pass.

ACTI-DECK gives us a short menu: ACTI-DECK and PARALLAX CODE.

ACTI-DECK: When Parallax Entertainment's breakthrough decking technologies permitted the company to create a home entertainment system that provided a direct interface between the users' nervous systems and the machine's software, the result was the Acti-Deck. Acti-Deck programs plunged the user into virtual reality worlds, for a price. Anything was possible, but the price proved to be steep. The Parallax ad campaign had claimed that the direct interface between nervous system and circuitry allowed the player to change the machine. What they didn't know...or weren't telling...was that the machine was changing us! When details of the Parallax Effect broke, the public outrage was intense. The issue dovetailed perfectly with the Hand of God's plan for seizing power, and was a significant tool in their campaign against technology.

PARALLAX CODE: The Parallax code is a highly secret series of computer code modules that made cyberspace a reality. To my knowledge, the source code for Parallax has never been discovered.

And that's all we can get out of Mouchoir's computer for now, though we'll be back once we've got what we need to crack the Night of Re-Entombment file and the whereabouts of Massimo Eddie. Next time on IPAT: Hell...New Corporeal Biologics, Eschatology Incorporated, and the Gneo-Gnostics!

BONUS CONTENT

Jean St. Mouchoir on Mr. Beautiful
Jean St. Mouchoir on Senator Erin Burr
Jean St. Mouchoir on Eddy Commerce
Jean St. Mouchoir on Massimo Eddie
Jean St. Mouchoir on the Psionic Leeeeeeague
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bossgoji · Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 8:13 am Post subject:

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Hi! I'm not dead! This isn't abandoned! Life has just been kind of busy and draining like that. Anyway, last time on IPAT: Hell, we raided Geoffrey Holder's computer and found out about a bunch of sidetrips, so let's go do those. First on the itinerary: New Corporeal Biologics, home of the meats!

Examine
New Corporeals Biologics: Also known as the Meat Locker, this is where the flesh, blood, nerves and muscle tissue were grown for the meats synthetic multi-servers and birthing units. Although these techs have long been outlawed for decades, the fact that there is some fresh growth on the framing units indicates that someone has tried to start things back up.

Fecund 5088 (at Gideon's feet): A meat birthing unit patiently waits. You eye the gestational chamber with suspicion.

Ben Brewer (in blue): A man works feverishly amidst the desolation of the long-abandoned factory.

Large beaker: Basic scientific beaker, unchanged for centuries.

Small beaker: Small version of the basic measuring cup for scientists.

Electromagnet (center): This powerful, hand-held electromagnet could yank the fillings out of the Androgyne at fifty feet.

Steel Cup: Scrubs were out in force that night, which suggests a sweep, which means one of two things. You're either really involved in something dirty...in which case I'll haul your asses in myself...or Transgressions is using one fabricated crime to wipe up a whole lot of undesirables. Question is, why are you two loyal ARC agents suddenly dirt?

Uh, what the hell? Yes, that's a snippet of Frank Jersey's dialogue from back at the beginning of the game, and yes, that's what the game displays when you examine the steel cup in its original resting place. Clearly someone screwed up. Let's pick that up and try again.

Steel Cup (in inventory): This odd steel cup looks like a cyber-petri dish.

That's...really not much better. What exactly does THAT look like?

Kerosene: A five gallon can of kerosene.

Anyway, as you know well by now, we're grabbing anything that isn't nailed down or on fire, so all that stuff gets shovelled into Gideon.

Talk to Ben Brewer

Those are some big-ass glasses you've got there, Benjamin. That'll be something of a theme this episode.

Shit, you're the heat! I knew it! I'm gonna fry...shit! Look, I'm just a businessman, really. I don't nkow from morality or ethics. I'm just looking to turn a buck.

Don't wet your pants, pal. We're ducking the big heater ourselves. Help us out, and we'll pretend we never saw this place.

All right, all right. What do you want to know?

(Tell us about James Hennely.)

He's the reason I'm so jumpy. What happened to him, I figure the Hand's on to us. They got him while he was sitting in the barber's chair. Nearly split him in two. They were sloppy, and offed the cutter, too. Apparently his wife shrugged it all off as God's will. She actually took comfort that he died as part of something big like a scrub cleanup.

No mystery why they wiped him. If he was poking through this tissue shop with you, he must have been up to his eyebrows in illegal tech. So you came here?

Figured this would be the last place anyone would look for me. I was just trying to score enough to make it overseas. I hooked up with Jimmy because he knew the city, and 'cause I liked his resume. He'd seen it all, hit it rich, and then lost everything when Mephisto revenged his losses in the commodities market by burning the Chicago Exchange down. Wiped out three quarters of their records and a lot of fortunes that day.

Yeah, we heard about it.

Jimmy was always vague about his private life. He never wanted to talk about anything that happened more than five or six years ago. It was almost like those parts of his life didn't matter anymore. One time he opened up and told me about a brother of his who was a fighter for the Citizens' Freedom Front.

Where do we find him?

You don't. Apparently he was killed in a CFF action a couple of years ago. That's all Jimmy ever said about it. I could tell he took it hard. He said it was like a part of him died when he lost his brother.

You say he died two years ago? You're certain he's dead?

His brother was pretty damn sure about it!

Anything else you can tell us about Hennely? Anything peculiar?

Nothing, other than the fact he was an outlaw. He did have a strange fixation on a Latin phrase..."Vocabulum est tabula, ominus venire ab genitor". Wore a chain around his neck with that phrase on it. Could never figure that out...

Might seem like nothing now, but it could be important later.

(Just what are you doing here?)

So what's the scam?

Black market for synthetic tissues is booming. All we need are some genetic data on the meat genome, some salvage from this place, and we can begin production of commercial biomass.

You pig! Didn't the meat fiasco mean anything to you? You want to bring that back?

No, no, no. We aren't looking to grow meats; too hard to smuggle offshore. We're looking to fabricate organs for the black market, artificial skin grafts, that kind of stuff.

Mass-produced flesh for an illegal market. Makes flesh and blood just one more commodity, one more item for sale, one more replaceable product.

(What's the deal with that meat?)

She's a beauty, eh? I'm gonna smuggle her to Europe. There are collectors there that'd pay me a fortune for her. That's a near-mint condition Fecund 5088 birthing unit, a little old, but the tissue's in great shape. They had food stocks and concentrated vitamin compounds stored here. She was able to stay fed through all these years!

That turns my stomach.

Well, her value's entirely as a museum piece at this point. The gestational chamber, amniotic fluid recycler, fetal perceptual stimulator...you can't get parts for this stuff anymore.

You're not turning me in, right? You gave me your word you wouldn't turn me in!

We gave you nothing. When we've taken care of our own business, we just might be back for you.

Hey, cut me a break, guys! I'm just trying to make an almost-honest living.

Talk to Fecund 5088

Aiee!

I'm surprised at your revulsion, Rachel. Birthing units like this would have liberated women from childbearing!

I am programmed to respond to doubts you may have about the moral dilemmas some find inherent in my existence.

That won't be necessary, 5088. I don't think your preprogrammed arguments will persuade us.

(Tell us about your features.)

I am a Fecund 5088 birthing unit. I am designed to be a superior gestational unit. The fetal chamber is lined with a biocircuitry interweave to constantly monitor fetal respiration, heartbeat, and important growth factors. Options: Available sensory throughputs to fetus: soothing sounds and music, comforting visual displays, direct projection of parents' voices into fetal chamber. DAT recordings playable to assist in subliminal environmental orientation.

Enough! Oh, God, this is making me sick!

I merely recite relevant facts relating to childbirth.

"Simulating the reproductive experience!" Not everything can be fabricated in a lab.

The existence of this unit proves otherwise. The essentials of the human reproductive event can and have been substantially improved by...

That's enough, 5088. I'm afraid my partner will pull your plug if you keep it up.

(Report the results of your self-diagnostics.)

My self-diagnostic indicates intensive, decades-long neglect to primary mechanical units.

You can say that again. The Hand put your creators out of business; I'll give them that much.

Meats, or the Hand's rule? Which one's the greater evil? Perverse mockeries of motherhood or tyrants ruling in the name of God? Some choice!

That's about all we can do here. We've got a new mysterious Latin phrase from another of the Night of Re-Entombment scrubs, though, and a bunch of crap we scooped up off the floor. Handily enough, combined with the copper tubing from Dr. Clean's office, said crap provides all the parts we need for Scub Stevens to rig up a still!

Examine Still: A hard-to-get item in America, 2095: A moonshine still.

...And you know what that means, kids: more Languo! To Gang Alley!

Talk to Languo

Here's the still, kid. Now, you better give us something on Brian Avery, and it better be good.

Oh, man, this is perfect, man. Barbara's gonna love this, man...soon as she comes to.

Now talk!

Sure, man. No problem. What am I talking about?

BRIAN AVERY!

Oh, right, right, right. OK, Brian Avery. Yeah...he got killed.

I love you, Languo.

We know that already! What was he doing around here?

He got stuff. Fact, he was supposed to get us a new holovision. I was all set, man...put my feet up, had a bag of chips, was just hanging out, getting prepped, resting up. Then I woke up and somebody said he was a goner. Real drag, you know? He was even getting this set I coulda used the old remote on and everything!

Is that all?!

Well, I dunno...it might work on other things, but it's really made just for holovisions, man.

I love you SO MUCH, Languo.

No, I mean...I mean, do you have any other info?

Not really, man.

C'mon, Rach. I can tell by the smoke coming out of your ears that it's time to go.

Hey, thanks for the still, man. Feel free to, like, look around or whatever, wherever you want, man.

That's another loose end wrapped up, if somewhat pointlessly. Our next stop is Eschatology Incorporated, employers of the late Adam Schonbrun, another unfortunate victim of the Re-Entombment operation.

Examine
Eschatology Inc. Offices: As you might expect of an organization dedicated to the study of death and the end of things, they haven't spent a lot on decorating...but from the founder's wheelchair to the holographic demon-apery chamger to the Nike 12000 computer, the equipment is state-of-the-art.

Hercule Rue Des Coeurs: A paraplegic is fused to the circuitry of a high-tech chair. Mechanical arms move in a swirl of activity.

Christy Abraxis: A young woman exudes corporate professionalism and competence.

Talk to Hercule Rue Des Coeurs

Dr. Octavius? Have you lost weight? Man, you look great! ...So sorry to hear about the accident, though.

So, then. You arrive unnanounced. You have business, I'm certain. You may state it...but be brief.

My partner and I are private investigators. We're looking into the death of one of your employees, Adam Schonbrun.

He was murdered by the scrub teams. He was in this very office before the dawn...that's when he liked to work...and a government death squad killed him.

What was the purported crime?

The scrub teams are not burdened by justifications. Christy has lodged petitions with the Transgressors' Office, demanding, as his employer, to know the charges...but nothing! They tell me nothing!

(Tell us about Schonbrun.)

Schonbrun was a strange one. Heh, but then, I guess anyone obsessed with ultimate fate usually does appear, shall we say, intense. Hard worker, though. Cross-disciplinary research, blending extranoumenal vision research with Dante mapping.

Would that get him killed?

It might, I suppose, if the government knew of it, but until Adam's death, only the people working on it knew it existed.

Something else, then. Something not related to his work here?

Then I would be unable to help. You see, I know very little about him. He was quiet about his past. I don't believe he had a family.

He and Roach used to drink at a speak called the Interface. That's all I know about him. Doesn't pay to have d-bases of personal information that the Hand can appropriate.

You see that we can be of little help. As with all of my employees, there is a template of his nervous system on file with Resurrections Unlimited. I believe...is his body in preservation there, Christy?

It is. We have him on a six-year retainer. The damage to his heart is more or less reparable. The mortal wound was to his brain, and Resurrections believes it's at least six years from treatment.

What is this? You're telling us that this Resurrections outfit brings people back from the dead?

Well, not yet, but they are working at it, eh? Important work...oh, illegal work. They are a chemical company as a...what is the word?...as a front, for the real business. They are located in Arlington, not far from here.

Hell is my business. Should you learn anything of interest about the underworld, I should like to hear it.

I note that Hercule has a completely ridiculous faux-French accent.

Talk to Christy Abraxis

Enormous glasses count: 2

I've reservations about cooperating with these two, Hercule. We don't know them from a blood gang. They could narc us, and then we'd get a first-hand look at hell.

I refuse to live in fear of being shot by the Hand's death squads, and I don't believe, any more than you do, that the government controls the underworld!

We're going to end up in prison. No doubt about it.

We have some questions about Adam Schonbrun.

All I know about Adam is what's in his file. I make it a point not to enter into personal relationships with the research staff. Peculiar thing about him was that Hercule had never heard of him; a number of people said that they knew him, but no one had actually met him or spoken with him.

You weren't suspicious?

Of course we were suspicious, but we're an illegal operation. We have enough of our own secrets. If an employee has something to hide, that's his business, and like I said, people vouched for his work and we could see he knew what he was doing. He was especially gifted at extracting topographic data from the psychologic subtexts of narrative events.

You mean that he was rendering a map of hell based on books and movies with hell as a subject matter?

Subject matter doesn't need to be hell, per se. Any story that reveals human understanding of evil, lust, hate, or venal sin reveals something about people's subconsious conceptions of hell.

Any idea why the Hand would want him dead?

Yes, Dante mapping's a capital offense! What do you think we do here? Tell ghost stories? If the Hand knew he was a mapper, they'd eliminate him. That stuff about permits was just a cover in case you were with the heat...which is why I was hostile to you earlier. We could be next on their list.

And so we're off to Resurrections Unlimited, a location with Problems.

Examine
Resurrections Unlimited: You'd never know such grand things were being attempted at Resurrections Unlimited by this nondescript anteroom, which seems to serve as a box storage area, utilities room, and guard room for the entrance to the company.

Dr. Zip Honey: A lone staffer eyes you indifferently.

Talk to Dr. Zip Honey

Enormous glasses count: 3. Also, Dr. Zip Honey is an awesome name. Also also, that reflective metallic dress is pretty rad too.

'Bout time you two showed up! It's been one long nightmare maintaining the stock with the backup computers. We have to get the main system up, or I can't guarantee that some of our clients' essence files won't be corrupted.

Want to come again with that?

Aren't you two here to install the new motherboard on the Dill 3000?

Uh, well, yeah! What else would we be here for?

Well then, get to it. The data storage chamber is through that door. Be careful; you'll have to deactivate the security system, but they would have told you how to do that when they ordered the motherboard. Sure will be glad to have that system up and running!

Oh god. The security system. Oh god. ...You'll see in a moment.

Talk to Dr. Zip Honey again

Do you two charge by the hour or what? Installing a motherboard shouldn't be that hard for you guys, even if it is an illegal Dill 3000. Turn off the security system and get working on it.

Right, on through that door in the back, leading to the oh sweet jesus security corridor.

Examine
Resurrections Hallway: You are immediately confronted by a bank of laser beams, clearly meant to trigger alarms...or worse. You're going to have to negotiate it somehow, but there's nothing else in the room that can help you; they've let the decorating of this room slide.

OK, so. The idea here is to whip out the mechanic's creeper from the Pentagon garage, like so:

...and then use it to slide your way through the beams.

OK, see those horizontal beams? They move up and down REALLY FAST. The vertical ones? They appear and disappear from the floor in rather dense clusters, also REALLY FAST. You have to do this with the mouse. The creeper controls like an unmaintained carnival bumpercar piloted by a palsied wino.

In other words, this sequence is FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. I consider myself an individual not uncompetent with the vidya games - while no superplayer, I have completed Deadly Towers, Battletoads, La-Mulana, God Hand, any number of titles generally regarded as not for the faint of heart - and I can rarely make it past the first goddamned crossbeam. Making it to the second one is even rarer; making it PAST the second one is right out. Oh, and if you should happen to hit one of the beams...

Shit.

So yeah. Schonbrun's corpse contains another of those Latin phrases, not that I've ever seen it. Thankfully, while that's an important clue, seeing it doesn't set any mandatory quest flags, meaning it's still possible to complete the game without successfully doing this part. Otherwise, as far as I'm concerned, Hell would be unwinnable by mere mortals.

Just FYI, were this sequence not completely broken, we'd find the note "Vocabulum est acquirer, ominus venire ab genitor" on Schonbrun's body.

Pretending that we're done with Resurrections Ultd., we now move on to the headquarters of the Gneo-Gnostics.

Examine
Gnostics' Office: The attempt to study spiritual truths has not yet transcended matter; the Gnostics of 2095 need a lot of stuff to pursue their studies. The former church that serves as their headquarters is crammed with scanning equipment, computers, and various other instruments of intellectual pursuit.

Donna Alandro: A bookish woman nervously sneaks glances at you.

Professor Coronary: You see an intense, exotic man whom you recognize as Professor Zaxton Coronary.

You read that right: Professor Zaxton Fucking Coronary. God, this game and its names.

Talk to Professor Coronary

VIOLATION! Your glasses are not huge!

And there they are, Gideon Eshanti and Rachel Braque, fugitives from a system they served with faith and ardor. One pure and righteous, now expelled and hunted.

What the hell? How'd this guy make us? His writeup doesn't have him as a looker.

Mystery to me, hon. Give it, Professor; how do you know who we are?

I could ask the same question, you know. If the Transgressors' Office knows of this location...

Feel free to panic. They know about it. They're just waiting 'til it's your turn to be the scrub of the month. Don't kid yourself. You're like everybody else, living at the whim of the Hand.

We track what happens in places like Reality Containment. When the Hand orders two ARC investigators scrubbed, that's news in the underground.

So you know us. That just makes things easier. You know we're not working for ARC.

Quite so. Very well. I'm listening, then.

(We're here to ask you about Deirdre O'Connor.)

Ms. O'Connor was killed the same night the scrub team came for us.

I know that, Ms. Braque. She was murdered while she slept, killed by the people you used to work for.

Believe it or not, we're trying to find out why Deirdre O'Connor and five other people were scrubbed on the night we were attacked. If we can establish some connection between the victims, it might help us to clear ourselves.

There's no mystery here. Deirdre, along with another scholar, Wickersham Dodge, worked European and Asian black markets for virtual realities. She was good, too. She'd just picked up a dozen dreamscape realities in Istanbul, but at the same time, the Istanbul foray was reckless. SHE was reckless. We knew the Hand was watching...that virtual media dealing, in part, with a legitimate religion, would risk bringing the authorities down on us. She didn't care. It was as though she thought she couldn't die. She was an unusually physical woman; I suppose she thought she could fight her way out of any problem.

She was combat trained?

Not that I know of, but if she was, she would have been quite fearsome. She was, as I said, quite physical...over six feet tall, quite athletic...but I know little about her past. You should speak with David. He's a novice here who worked as her assistant.

(You speak Latin, don't you?)

Yes, I speak Latin and several other languages fluently.

We could have a use for that. The Hand indulges in Latinate phrasing for much of its encryption.

I know. Yes, I know, and you need a translator...but my services are not without fee. I have a job that requires someone with your skills.

What skills, Professor?

Skills that allowed you to evade a scrub team.

Don't ask us for a replay, Professor. Adrenaline kicked in, reflexes took over, and we got really lucky. We're not mercs, if that's your angle.

What I have in mind is much safer: a simple breaking and entering. There's an antiquities collector named Bleistok who lives in a penthouse near L'Enfant Plaza. He has an eighteenth-century manuscript, the Blaze Parchment, that we must examine. I see what you're thinking. I see what you're thinking. The Gnostics don't usually resort to thievery, but Bleistok obtained the parchment illegally. It was supposed to have been included in a secret auction in an exurban slum outside of Jakarta. I was there to bid on it, but it never came up for sale. I learned later that Bleistok had stolen the parchment en route to Jakarta.

Blaze Parchment? This is familiar. We've come across this before.

Blaze was a scientist and philosopher much at odds with the Enlightenment world in which he lived. Blaze's visionary work is said to have presupposed the essential structures of cyberspace. Unfortunately, his work was never published. Only this original copy remains. We must examine it. If you want my services as a translator, I'll have your services as a thief. Bring me the Blaze Parchment, and I'll help you.

Talk to Donna Alandro

Well, OK...those are kind of huge...I guess. :/

Excuse me. Not to intrude, but did I hear Professor Coronary say you were going to retrieve the Blaze Parchment from Bleistok's clutches? I hope that's true. It would be a start to your redeeming yourselves for your ARC service.

You can shove redemption, bookworm. We'll settle for survival. We spoke to Coronary. I wouldn't say we're welcomed guests, but he knows we aren't here to trash the place.

We're trying to discover why O'Connor was scrubbed. Any ideas?

Dee was a, uh, what you'd...she was a 'trode-head. She could jack into cyberspace. She had a deck, um, that she claimed to have jury-rigged. She was good, too; knew her way around. She, ahem, used to work for the Sustenance Authority until she, as she put it, "edge-surfed" out of transglobe culture.

That computes, Gid.

I suppose so. In a limited sense, it does. O'Connor was a natural target; so was an eschatologist like Schonbrun, and O'Leary owned a speak with Sinn Fein affiliations, but I still don't see the link between us and these subverts.

Talk to Donna Alandro again

I hope you're learning the truth about your former masters.

There's another room in Gnostics HQ, accessible by walking off to the east.

Examine
Gnostics' Computer Room: It seems fitting that where the altar used to stand in this former church, the Gnostics have mounted their main computer bank. Amidst the hush, heads bowed to their computers, this is where the core of their efforts are focused.

Wickersham Dodge (at computer): A square-jawed, decidedly unscholarly-looking man, who nevertheless has the demeanor of one committed to work and study.

Daniel: A solemn boy in threadbare clothes stands near Deirdre O'Connor's desk.

That scrap of paper on top of one of the cubicles is an item, but if we try to examine or take it, Daniel obstructs us.

Talk to Wickersham Dodge

If you're with Transgressions or ARC, you've come to the wrong place. I won't sing to the people who killed my friend. You can kill me before I do that.

Strong claim to be making to strangers, pal. If we were from Transgressions we'd take you up on that...but we're not the heat.

(What kind of work do you do with the Gnostics?)

Right now I'm not doing a whole hell of a lot, because my partner was killed. I'm just going through some of the data she was working with. Dee and I maintained and monitored covert hookups with international networks and bulletin boards, not an easy job with ARC programmers raiding the boards looking for unauthorized hooks they can trace to their source.

Yeah, we're familar with their ops. They trace the origin of the link, and then they send the stormtroopers in. What were you searching for?

We were pushing the edge. Dee insisted we not play it safe. We were trying to score cyberspace decks from the European black market, not easy since Europe's well within the Hand's grasp.

No wonder O'Connor got whacked. ARC's got knuckles all over the continent. Only hope of scoring a deck is to launder it through a third party in the Middle East or Russia.

(What can you tell us about O'Connor?)

Why not ask her for that information?

What are you talking about? She's dead!

Yes, but she lives on, courtesy of her own handiwork. She spent months on this. Wouldn't tell me how she did it, and I haven't been able to crack the source code yet. How she did this with current technology is a mystery to me!

So what is it?

She programmed in source code that simulates her own personality, which is impressive enough, but then she also digitized her own voice enunciating English-language phonemes and wrote programming routines that compose the phonemes into words on the fly! Amazing stuff; I don't know where she learned how to do this!

You're saying...we can talk to her?

There's no visual output yet, but listen here.

Hey, Wicks. What's bootin' your system?

Some people here asking about you and about our work.

I assume they're legits? You gotta watch who you 'face with, Wicks. You're too trusting.

This is strange. We're talking to a dead person.

Yeah, freakin' scrub teams wasted my proto, but the essential Deirdre is powered up and online. This has the potential to blow away an Acti-Deck interface.

So now what? We just ask this computer why O'Connor was killed?

Why not? Deirdre, can you shed any light on why the Hand chose now to kill you?

Hand needed a reason to whack a techno-anarchist, post-humanist, entrepreneurial free spirit obsessed with actuating the transhuman?

An Amazonian transhumanist who managed to immanentize her own mini-Singularity? I have to say Deirdre sounds kind of awesome.

Talk to Daniel

Is this where O'Connor worked? You can tell us, boy. We're on the same side, sort of.

There's nothing to search for now, nothing to learn here. She was going to teach me so many things...how to fly in cyberspace and explore the virtual in search of the real. Now she's dead, and it's too late.

Maybe not, son. There might be something. Her decking unit, for instance.

Your goons got that when they killed her. It's probably tagged and collecting dust in some Pentagon sub-basement. Forget about it! You can't search her desk until Professor Coronary tells me I have to let you.

Let's just knock this runt over.

I'm inclined to agree, Rach, but we're already wanted. Any violence and Coronary could turn us in. Hell, he may do that anyway. Giving us to the Hand would certainly buy him a lot of goodwill with Transgressions.

Talk to Daniel again

Get lost, before I get so pissed off I bring the Hand down on all of us!

We can now travel to Bleistok's apartment, so let's do that!

Examine
Collector's Room: For burglars, the entire room's contents seems desirable, but even inferior burglars would recognize that the room's most desirous articles are clearly booby-trapped.

Blaze Parchment: This crackling old parchment is unrolled just enough to make visible a glimpse of an ancient text.

Right, let's just saunter up and grab the parchment. Surely those conspicuous red lasers don't mean us any harm.

SHIT

Let's try that again, this time without the imprisonment. The electromagnet we ganked from New Corporeals should do nicely.

I'm a fairly laid-back guy when it comes to suspending disbelief, but I really have to question this. I can accept the electromagnet attracting the parchment, because it looks like it might have metal rollers in it, but why does it just float across the room to Gideon in a straight line? Gravity much? Not sure why it doesn't set off the beams, either. Well, regardless, we've got it now, which means we're ready to go pry some Babelfishing out of Professor Fucking Coronary.

Talk to Professor Coronary

Ahh, the Blaze Parchment! Well done, well done! I assure you that when we have finished with it, we will see it placed somewhere where it will be appreciated.

Hey, live it up, Prof! Don't forget your side of the bargain.

I stand by my word. You see before you, a translator!

We're hoping you can translate this Latin phrase for us. We've written it down for you.

Of course. Let me see it. "Vocabulum est tabula, ominus venire ab genitor". The Latin is poor, but it reads, "The word is 'slate' and all comes from the father. The key word here seems to be "tabula" which translates as "slate".

The word "slate". Not much of a clue.

Still, it's a clue, my brainy beau. It's something to go on.

I didn't say it was nothing. Just that it wasn't much.

We're hoping you can translate this Latin phrase for us. We've written it down for you.

Of course. Let me see it. "Vocabulum est grallae, ominus venire ab genitor". The Latin is poor, but it reads, "The word is 'stilts' and all comes from the father. The key word here seems to be "grallae" which translates as "stilts". A rather unlikely message!

The word "stilts". Not much of a clue.

Really? Gee, it seems obvious to me!

Mm-hmm. The answer will be obvious when we're done with it.

The two of us have been have been repeatedly sharing the same nightmares, and after every one of them, we wake up screaming and with the same Latin sentence on our lips: "Vocabulum est serus, ominus venire ab genitor". Can you translate that for us?

Of course. Quite easy. The Latin is poor, but it translates to "The word is 'late' and all comes from the father." The key word here seems to be "late". Does this mean anything to you?

No, it doesn't. Not yet, at least...but it could be the start of something.

Well, that was enlightening. In the other room...

Talk to Daniel

The only reason I'm letting you search the desk is because Professor Coronary allows it. Don't think I'm forgiving you for what happened to Dee. Someday your kind will pay for what they did.

Whatever there, duder. The important thing is that we can check that bit of paper now.

Talk to Daniel again

How long are you gonna sort through her effects? You're enjoying this, aren't you? You get some kind of sick thrill running through one of your victims' stuff. I swear you'll all pay for this.

That's one more Latin phrase to show Zax, viz:

We're hoping you can translate this Latin phrase for us. We've written it down for you.

Of course. Let me see it. The Latin is poor, but it reads "Vocabulum est grallae, ominus venire ab genitor". "The word is 'gate' and all comes from the father. The key word here is "janua" which is Latin for "gate".

The word "gate". Not much of a clue.

But enough? You've done more with less.

Oh, I'll figure it out. Give me time, and I'll figure it out. I just hope we have enough time.

If we'd been able to get the "Vocabulum est acquirer" phrase from Resurrections Unlimited, Coronary would translate it as "The word is 'get' and all comes from the father". So, that's late, stilts, slate, get, and gate. Perhaps this information will prove useful to us at some point in the future!

Aaaand that's all I've got for now. Next time on IPAT: Hell, we hook up with the Citizens' Freedom Front and meet Senator Erin Fucking Burr!
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**Gtf234** · Jackal Joined: 02 May 2008 Posts: 98

The writing baffles me in how Rachael can be such a constant bitch yet still think she has weight to throw around. The story clearly has them as top priority kills, so why does she constantly act like she can narc on people without getting herself killed? Just about every other person in the world here seems to know such a threat is full of shit too, so basically she's the only one not noticing it.

But, Deirdre is fucking awesome and I still love Languo.

**iastudent** · Jackal Joined: 29 Apr 2008 Posts: 30

Twitch minigames in a otherwise wordy adventure game? I'm all for interaction with the environment (Zack & Wiki on the Wii handling this very well), but placing a nightmarish version of Audiosurf smack-dab in the middle of things is, in the immortal words of Sonic, "no good!"

Also, I second the awesomeness of a sentient post-meatbag transhumanist just for using SHODAN as her avatar.

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Yeah, I'm way overdue again. On the bright side, this episode brings us a major reveal, though I imagine some of you have probably twigged to it already. Also, a fun bit of trivia related to me by a reader and dear friend: "mouchoir" is French for "handkerchief". So apparently that computer in Transgressions is owned by Jean St. Snotrag. ...Anyway, it's time to head to the British Embassy at Dupont Circle, where we'll be meeting with Senator Erin Burr of the Citizens' Freedom Front!

Examine
British Embassy: It seems ironic that this charming, refined, old-world parlor is the waiting room for the revolution - the outer office of the head of the CFF's so-called Shadow Government, Erin Burr.

Charles Multi-Server Unit (silver guy): You tentatively approach the Charles Multi-Server Unit. Wrinkled skin and sagging muscles reveal the unit's age, but it is powerfully built.

Vivid (green pants): A young Asian woman is near a flesh-and-steel monstrosity.

Derek Literati (couch): A dangerous-looking man casts a withering, unforgiving glare at you, making it clear that not everyone in the Front welcomes your presence.

Talk to Vivid

You've got to be kidding me. That can't be what it looks like.

Can be, and is. What's the matter? Never seen a meat before?

I've never been this close to a living one before. Their skin's real, and yet the machines... look! The control panel rises and falls as he respirates. Doesn't he spook you?

Not me, but maybe that's 'cause we're sorta family. Did my fetal time in a Fecund 5085!

You look fine. Any negative side effects?

What do you remember about your mother's womb? Do you recall how that affected you? Hell, I've got time-lapse film of my gestation.

Yeah, I remember reading about it. "Science makes war on motherhood". That was the feeling, I think.

Takes some adapting, but he's got his uses once you're onto him. Knows what he's doing in the embassy commissary. Great omelettes.

(Charles is a multi-server, isn't he?)

Charles is over sixty-eight years old. His hardware hasn't been upgraded in fifty years, so it's clunky, and his organic tissue has aged...but you're not so bad, are you, Charles?

System memory and processing speed functioning at 89.4% capacity. White blood count is normal. No infections or serious illness to report.

Freaks the hell out of me. Solux may be evil, but I can't be sorry it put the meats on cold storage. I mean, just look at this hideous thing!

Talk to Charles Multi-Server Unit

His flesh is so real, so human, but then there are those machines in his abdomen. It's monstrous!

(Can we have information on you, Charles?)

Yeah, Charles. Your specs, please.

I am a Charles-class Multi-Server Unit. My hardware is powered by 400 megahertz of processing power and a twelve-terabyte drive. Gib-Tek's free association modules and Pandar Labs creative memory cells serve, respectively, as primary operating system and storage. My wetware was spawned from New Corporeal's Genesis Genome and grown in a hothouse Federal Center. Wetware incubation occurred over a seven-month period. Quality assurance tests completed. Current diagnostics: Major organs: 73% efficacy (rating reflects minor heart blockage, development of possibly precancerous polyps along wall of large intestine). Organelles, 89% efficacy (rating reflects deteriorations in lymphatic system). Skeletal system: 100% efficacy. Circulatory system...

400 MHz?! I've used cell phones with more raw clock than Chaz here. Must be one hell of an efficient AI.

That's enough, Charles. Thanks.

(Can we have a list of services?)

I don't think so, Charles.

Go ahead, Charles. I'm curious.

Selected services catalog for Charles-series multi-server unit. Last upgrade December 2048. Selected list, areas of specialty: automechanics, cosmetology, epistemology, heating and refrigeration, palmistry, and wok cookery. I am a licensed EMT. Language proficiency: major European, African and Asian tongues, dialect upgrades available, both Mandarin and Cantonese with assimilator modules for adaptation to local variants. My Lexicon processors are fashioned from a mech-cortical tissue matrix for rapid adaptability. I am a skilled raconteur, programmed with fictional superstructures, symbols, imagery, and themes particular to dozens of cultures.

Some other time, Charles. We've just met, you know.

Talk to Charles again

It'll take me a couple meg of text to sell me on this thing. I still think he's hideous.

Sorry, Charlie! She doesn't mean it.

Yes, I do! Don't apologize for me. This thing doesn't have feelings.

Yes, don't apologize for her. I don't have feelings, unless you want me to.

Talk to Derek Literati