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You recognise the name on the disc -- Eloísa Alba -- from the 'Weaponised Boredom' section of Petre's music stall. In other words: 'free jazz'.

The name on the disc -- Eloísa Alba -- seems vaguely familiar. You're pretty sure she was an experimental composer -- some sort of 'free jazz' artist?

Ran afoul of the Azzurri mob, as rumour has it.

Bits of paper... like the one the little girl delivered you?

Length of time he's been waiting for you to walk through the door: unknown.

Tempo used to swill the coffee around his mouth, then spit it back with a muttered 'mierda de cerdo'.

Operant CASCADE's penultimate expense tally included a handwritten note. 'Asset VIRTUE -- debt to the Opera: value, 1 schnapps, redeemable at any time.'

Carabineros: Portofiro's sanctioned police investigators. They report directly to the Prefectura and deal in actual crime -- murder, grand larceny, rape.

Sweet Nestor, Portofiro's supreme leader from the years 28 to 80.

A chime echoes somewhere in the back of your memory... 'Re-no-tel'.

Is there any part of you left that's still of Mircea?

Your short-term memory is being severely tested. Fried, even.

The GM who was guarding that room said it was where the water-lock controls were located.

The day the leaves fall from the ginkyo is a day of transformation -- he told you himself.

The result of non-competitive bidding and a bit of self-dealing on the part of the city's governing elite.

Your obsessions and secret passions have saved you more than once, and may yet again.

The memories of your own past claw away inside you.

La Luz. Once a powerful empire, now reconstituted as a modern techno-fascist state, the rising military and cultural power of the day.

Renotel. A diversified communications company local to the state of Portofiro. Immediately recognisable by its dolphin logo.

If the words of the old Luzian prisoner are true, you have days, not weeks.

You'd remember a name that stupid.

The boat thing.

Tanka Hônen survived his assassination of East Kodian opposition leader Reido Saiji, whom he shot twice with a homemade firearm at a train station opening ceremony.

In certain cultures, a final sacrament offered to terminal patients and prisoners about to be executed.

Dolphin pods are known to ingest toxic animals and copulate for recreational purposes.

Carabineros: Portofiro's sanctioned police investigators. They report directly to the Prefectura and deal in actual crime -- murder, grand larceny, rape.

You. Have. Never.

No reliable entries. Just the dim feeling that's haunted you from the photo shop. A shadow hovering in the background.

No entries in archives, systems or communications. Expanding search.

Supposedly, The Vessel was disgusted by the practice, but eventually ceded as a political gesture to earn the support of the traditionalists in the Shogunate.

Scenes flash against the bedsheet screen of your mind -- framed in the same red veinage as the book's cover.

Around the words, a memory coalesces of HOLOCENE in his prime, novel held aloft.

The words jar a memory -- HOLOCENE engrossed within its pages, maybe the only time he was oblivious to the world.

It was you who taught him the cigarette trick in the first place. The Opera speaks to itself.

The shrine lacks the sacred air of Mircean churches you knew as a child -- it is an organic thing, maintained by locals of their own volition.

NO. RECORDS. FOUND.

Line 9 -- the same line the man by the aero-tram station was told to wait for.

All past entries pertaining to Operant CASCADE are stamped with the words 'NOT MY FAULT'. Twice.

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.

You recognise the patch sewn into his pants. It's the Carriles de Portofiro's logo -- the oldest transit company in the city.

In actuality, an urban myth prevalent among more casual ether users. Still, sweet of her to look out for you.

So this rumour about Luzian 'imprints' goes back at least a generation.

'Strange cousins'. How locals refer to the menacing techno-fascist superstate across the Noscorrentes Sea.

Your old haunt. Where you met with your former assets, once upon an assignment.

For your pomegranate red folder, she means. Material for future reviews, case studies and post mortems.

Except for the old Kohilan hands, who used to call it 'potatoes two ways'.

Except for the old Kohilan hands, who called it 'potatoes two ways'.

You realise you have seen no dogs in Portofiro.

When you were the worst disaster of yourself.

517 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 6 of 11