Duchess

You hear her mumble something, then silence.

You return to the door of the little houseboat.

"And Frederik, yes, I remember! Snooper!"

"I see you out there!"

"Not now!"

"You are a snooper! You were already prying about that nice sock importer! Go away!"

Working with phones? What are the odds?

Reaching into another person's head to glimpse what is inside -- it is not the first time recently that you've heard about such a method.

... MÖMMIES?

Just like Duchess.

He wants mömmy too?

A familiar, bubbling sensation in your mind as she listens to you.

It's her, she's joining in with the gäng!

It's her, she's joining in with the gäng!

Raise the stakes. Tell her everything.

That's her using the method on you. Feels different over the phone.

That's her using the method on you. Feels different over the phone.

That's her using the method on you. Feels different over the phone.

YOU MUST BECOME UNIGNORABLE. DISCUSS BORDER POLITICS.

You disconnect and are left looking at the lonely payphone deteriorating next to the lapping canal water.

You feel lightness in your head as she considers this.

You feel the familiar lightness enveloping your mind as she switches gears.

You lift the receiver to your ear. Static needles the edge of it.

"Get off the line!"

"Hello there."

"Hey, it's me."

"I told you, I'm Duchess. Let's stick to the Miracle from now on, baby."

"I'm here for you."

"I'm here for you."

"It's you. How good of you to finally check in. What's the status of your assignment?"

"No more questions about other clients, darling, let's just get back to me and you."

"Shouldn't you be investigating what happened to the sock importer...? Never mind hon, I'm listening."

"We never left the augmentoid thing. I told you; I am one."

"You're back. How is the assignment going, any progress?"

"You..." her voice changes. "I told you that was his! He better not be upset about it."

A plain canvas satchel hangs from a coat hook. A pair of colourful rain boots sit on the ground below it.

Duchess's sister is your enemy. And she appears to be living here.

I'll just borrow this. (Take the book.)

It appears to be some kind of textbook. It's titled 'The Shadow Mother'.

The damp paper has curled in on itself, molding to the rough shape of the bag.

The smell that drifts from the soggy interior is an unpleasant mix of mildew and urine.

The smell that drifts from the soggy interior is an unpleasant mix of stale coffee and mildew.

Um...

Your eyes land on a soggy satchel hanging heavily on a hook by the door, dripping onto a pair of colorful rain boots.