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You can see the resemblance now. Karolina has his eyes.

Doctor. Clinic. Houseboat. This is KINDRED's father -- Dr. Hugo Abe.

Behind him, shelves heaving with medical textbooks.

The recirculated air smells like antiseptic and wet dog hair.

That little jump he gave when you walked in the door -- you're the first visitor he's had in a while.

It's always hard to let one of the gäng go, especially when it's an effigy of an absent child.

It's always hard to let one of the gäng go.

You shook him up. He needs a little time to recover. Try again later.

Those little arguments made his day.

TEMPO DEL SUR: I heard some stuff over in Cicatriz F. It got me seeing pictures, Hersh. This thing, when it hits... new world order.

They are already untangling themselves from each other.

Marco would have been fathoms beneath Tempo's sphere of awareness.

The most loyal -- to the corps more than the people. Gäng over all.

Useful. Hiding place. Proud.

He'd be eyeing the top shelf liquor, daring it to try.

Scheming. Yelling about dead ministers and 'international plays'. Back in the game.

In herself, she means. In her own mind.

'Thought' maybe, but she was clutching something more with the barest of fingertips. That's gone now. You almost heard it go.

You do not. Emotional liabilities become operational liabilities.

She can't bear the thought. You shoved her into this -- you alone will follow it through.

In fact, you haven't heard it since you got here.

Push her, now. Get this over the line.

The silence between you is so heavy it begins to exert its own gravitational pull.

COMPASSION IS BOURGEOIS, A MIND EXERCISE FOR THE MIDDLE CLASSES.

But her body trembles with relief.

BEAUTIFULLY PLAYED. ANOTHER YOUNG MIND TURNED.

But her voice trembles with relief.

Operant, this is a once-per-aeon opportunity to get a shot at the Grand Lich. Let it slip now, who knows how far back it may set you?

Set her free. Why should she sacrifice her second chance for yours?

A SKYWALKING REACTIONARY, AT VERTICAL DISTANCE TO THE WORKING CLASS, AS OPPOSED TO HORIZONTAL.

Beyond the apartment's walls, this girl has a form of family, friends, classroom enemies, unfinished homework. None of them will know her again as she was.

A flash of Tempo and his child-logic loyalty, bestowed upon a strictly-chosen few.

You first among their number, for reasons you could never quite put your finger on.

Awaiting your approval.

'And you tell her -- if we pull this one off, all will be forgiven!'

There are other ways. There always are.

Fuck it. We make our own ways.

Operant, reconsider. You haven't even heard out the prisoner. You may be letting a massive opportunity slip your grasp.

A sudden crack across the thin glass of trust.

She's trade curious. Tempo never could resist a little off-the-books hustle.

Gauging you. Hard. A Mega Gauge.

The pit of your stomach curls. You tense it back down.

Two aero-trams criss-cross somewhere above you. The apartment's windows rattle in their frames.

You didn't hear the word 'no' in there.

Two ghosts stalk this house -- a teenage girl stomping the attic, a middle-aged man screaming in the basement.

A barrage of words -- none of them an outright refusal.

Let her off easy -- she won't handle the guilt well.

Her pupils narrow to slits.

9,179 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 68 of 184