A.Journal

Checks

852 checks

Trivial

An incomplete record.

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Oh fucking hell what did we tell her?

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The one you claimed to have done yourself. The one you lied about.

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She thinks that bootlegging is an act of resistance. She still wants to be an operant.

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So appeal to her as a colleague. Take her seriously. Tell her your own professional problems, ask for her help.

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Your fingertips itch with anticipated pleasure.

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Spiky wolf kicks ass. Stupid question.

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Alien. Foreign.

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The air hums. This is a spy's death.

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A remote detonation device packed with explosive C4.

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Knew that old woman act was too old-womany.

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Far more likely she was involved in somebody else's plot.

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Nice to know you're not the only disaster dealer around here.

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Take a closer look at this thing before you take it back to the music freaks.

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You need a closer look at this thing.

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C4 strapped to a remote detonation device.

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A remote detonation device. And C4.

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The same package you saw in your visions.

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This must be the source of the song the squatters were talking about.

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This is the source of the song, the visions...

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The song is coming through strong enough in here that you can make out words.

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You can hear someone singing, faintly. Not quite loud enough to catch the lyrics.

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Assassinate a high-ranking foreign official, return to the Operant Bureau's graces. This is the offer that's been extended to you.

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That is not Tempo's hand.

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Glancing up at the office, too much and too often.

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Hauzmann wanted a poetry magazine from this place, didn't he?

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If there's a copy of HOLOCENE's novel in Portofiro, the sci-fi section of this stand is probably your best bet.

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Reno -- the city's pre-eminent capitalist and head of Renotel, of the dolphin-themed payphones.

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HOLOCENE's kind of writer, though not responsible for the particular book you're after.

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Most of those journals look cheap. Pulp-adjacent, really. They probably feel cheap too.

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The heartless man wanted a poetry magazine from this place, didn't he?

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You could get that poetry magazine Hauzmann wanted, even though you found the jail. A little gift.

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You could get that poetry magazine the heartless man wanted, even though you found the jail. A little gift.

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The old spy's poetry magazine should be somewhere in that mess.

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And if there's a copy of HOLOCENE's novel in Portofiro, it'll be here too. Try the sci-fi section.

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If there's a copy of HOLOCENE's novel in Portofiro, it'd be here. Try the sci-fi section.

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EMTERR, a.k.a. L'Empire sans Territoire, a.k.a. 'The Bank'. Equal parts global development fund and spy service. Linchpin of the Developed World.

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You've already brought RADIAN back into your orbit. He should make short work of this task.

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You've already located RADIAN. Get him back on his medication and he'll surely make short work of this task.

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This task screams RADIAN. If you can locate your former asset, he'll surely make short work of this task.

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Whoever's on the other end of that call surely knows what this 'gap' is all about.

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So that's it -- a gap in the Grand Lich's official itinerary, unknown even to EMTERR. Wide enough for a bullet to go through.

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The way forward is obvious. Duchess surely knows what this 'gap' is all about.

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There's no point going meat-to-meat. You need a more techno solution.

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You've already brought RADIAN back into your orbit. He should make short work of this task.

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This task screams RADIAN. If you can locate your former asset, he'll surely make short work of this task.

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The line appears to be occupied.

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No need to muck about here with fiddly little things. Let's just tip the sucker over!