"Ah here you are yes here. Do you like life in True Time?" She bounces excitedly, her metal headgear still jingling as she moves.

"Ah here you are yes here. Do you like life in True Time?" She bounces excitedly, her metal headgear still jingling as she moves.

"Where'd you get all this money?"

"I used to buy into the reality trap -- houses, yes, kids, family, food -- all a trap."

"Spend false time working to make false money. A bad joke. Subcomandante Bagman made me realise this."

"Your kids were part of the trap?"

"Yes. Two of them and a husband and I thought I loved them more than life. But then realised -- there is no life."

"Need to focus on breaking out of reality."

A chill runs down your spine as the true meaning of her words sinks in.

Somewhere in the streets of Quisach, a well-to-do teenager grips his little sister by the hand and scrutinises the face of every beggar, every outcast squatting by a canal or hobbling through the alleys, wondering if, maybe...

"How old were they when you left them?"

"The younger one, five years. The older one was an illusion I sustained for nine whole years."

"Aha Juan was his name!" She emits a laugh.

It sounds like a yelp of pain.

This is what remains after you have ripped out all attachments by the root.

"His name was Juan? What happened to him?"

"No. You're right. He never was aha never. Nor was I..."

"And the younger one, what was her name?"

"Ah... Ana."

An involuntary twitch takes over one eye. A short-circuit, a glitch.

"But then again... she never was aha never. Nor was I..."

"You abandoned them."

"They don't exist. I don't exist either."

"You..." She fixes you with a curious stare. "I doubt you exist, but who am I to say?"

Pointless to wonder. Best to steel yourself and carry on regardless.

Who are you to say, either?

There's nothing to contemplate here, just the ramblings of a madwoman.

"They're probably better off without you, you're insane."

"Some assignments demand absolute sacrifice."

"No. No sacrifice. They don't exist, so nothing to sacrifice. I don't exist either."

"What did you do before you became a metal stripper?"

"'Real estate'." She makes scare quotes with the middle and index fingers. "Buy house, sell house. Add money, remove money. Hilarious, when you think about it."

"Yes, I was winning at the 'game of life'. Bad game. Prize for winning more of the same."

"Well, if it's any comfort, you're definitely losing at the game now."

"Aha yes, but trying not to play anymore. Soon I will manage it, yes, soon."

"And you're still living off the money you made back then?"

"Not living. Trying to break out."

"Yes. Hilarious."

"Yes."

Humour: sub-zero.

"I've often suspected all this is a trap. Tell me more."

"Aha, yes, many of us suspected. Gnawing feelings late at night. But nothing to do with this feeling."

"Have you ever noticed the thing about time?"

"What about time?"

"Subcomandante Bagman made me notice this. Yes, changes everything."

"Stop. Right now. Look at your clock. Is it moving?

An index finger hammers on the mouse. One click, and time jumps forward by exactly one minute.

"Of course it is."

"Really?"

"Look more closely. They say time 'flows', but does it flow, or does it stutter, skip, jump ahead?"

"Now that you mention it..."

"Jump!" She claps her hands.

A minute passes.

"Jump!" Leering.

Another minute passes.

"What is happening?"

"You are not understanding the thing about time yet, but you are close, yes, I can tell you are close...."

"As long as we are inside false time, everything is part of the reality trap. False time reinforces reality."

"Escape false time -- escape reality. Then we will know. Then we will see."

"Aagh, make it stop!"

"Yes, yes that's what I'm trying to do."

"It flows! Of course it flows!"

"I mean... it just did. Right now, a second ago."

"A second, or a sentence?"

"I don't like where this is going."

"Aha, because you already suspect the truth."

You brain recoils from the question with the terror of a paleolithic huntress wondering what lies beyond the horizon. You do not want to touch the edges of your world.

"No."

"No, and I don't have time to notice it right now." (Go back.)

"Aha, no time! She says she doesn't have time, very good." She chortles delightedly.

"We're in false time. False time, you have as much as you want."

"Is this really any more real than your previous life, though?"

"No, no, I am still inside the trap. Reality is the trap."

"Alright, what's the 'thing about time?'"

Alternative wording

"What do you mean, 'false time'?"

"Really, you have never noticed it?"

Experience the flow of time.

Nothing happens.

Until it does.

The huntress balks. The fear inside her is the germ of that which one day will become religion -- an intuition of powers existing beyond, outside her world.

What the...

With every passing thought, with every passing action, time passes.

There is no flow to be experienced. Only a stillness punctuated by moments of action.

You could prolong the stillness... forever.

But if you do anything -- even think about the stillness -- then it jumps forwards, without you even noticing.

"Yes I see you are noticing the thing about time. False time. After that, nothing is the same. Nothing can be real."

"But I like believing that things are real."

"Aha yes, yes. Reality is addictive. When you kick it you feel sick for days."

"What's next? Tell me more, lift the scales from my eyes!"

"Aha watch Bagman. The Reality Situation. I can make you notice things. He can explain."

The huntress kills a boar, but instead of eating it, she sets fire to the massive corpse and watches the smoke ascend -- an offering to the superstructures which she can only conceive of as Gods.

"Reality is very addictive. When you kick it you feel sick for days."

"I don't know what to do with this feeling..."

"Start getting ready to feel that way more, much more... about everything.

"So what, nothing was real to me anyway."

"Aha but you act like it was. I think you are still addicted to reality yes."

So if I just...

You hear the wind whistling through the scant vegetation and metal ruins, you feel the agitated pumping of your heart...

All things that occur in time, but you cannot feel time itself.

Like trying to meditate -- the harder you try to grasp it, the more elusive it becomes.

"I don't feel anything."

"Ah you are too deep inside the trap, yes you are. Believe everything is as it seems. Not your fault."

"How does one escape false time?"

"Copper." She grins. "Lots and lots of copper. You will see."

"Copper pierces through false time. Help me to find copper and yes, you will see."

"Do you know Subcomandante Bagman? Watch Bagman, he explains everything. Explains better than me."

"The guy with the conspiracy theory show on TV?""

"No. Not conspiracy. Truth. True as anything can be, inside reality."

"He is the one that made me notice the thing about time. After that nothing can be the same."

It's catching. And you're halfway there.

"'Bag-man'? Who's that?"

"He has a show, the Reality Situation. Every afternoon it plays yes every afternoon. You should watch it."

"If you have money, then what do you need the copper for?"

"To escape false time."

"False time reinforces reality, and copper pierces through false time."

"Tell me about this Subcomandante Bagman person."

"The revelator. The brown phantom, host of the Reality Situation. Watch him. Then you'll see. Then you'll understand."

She laps from the same pool as Malen's father, who got himself kidnapped after hearing about the Phone that Makes People Disappear on this same show.

This Bagman is the fibre of the web connecting all paranoia in Portofiro.

"The Reality Situation plays every single afternoon. You should watch him at least once."

"I want to say no, but that thing about time was... strange."

"Just the beginning. Yes, keep watching, yes. More will be revealed."

"Just as time is false, if you watch him soon you will realise, more and more things are false. Almost everything."

Strip enough illusions away, and you will be left with nothing, not even the barest trappings of personhood.

"And that's a good thing?"

"Subcomandante Bagman freed me. He can help free you as well. I can see you are trapped too, yes, in the most shallow illusions."

"I'm not sure I want to realise everything is false."

"Aha yes, you are happy trapped inside the illusions, yes."

"If you become unhappy with your cage, maybe, sometime. Then watch him. Then you will see."

"It sounds like you believe every word this guy says."

"All of it, you can see with your own eyes."

"Is this the guy that got you to abandon your family?"

"Aha yes. He has helped me strip myself of many illusions."

"I think I'll pass."

"Awareness breeds anxiety. Blindness breeds contentment."

"I'll check it out if I have time."

"Hopefully you understand. Many watch him, very few understand him."

"Tell me more about Subcomandante Bagman."

"What do you know about the silo over there?"

"Why?" She stretches the syllable out, chewing on it.

Something flares in her eyes. The same sheen of keen paranoia, brightened threefold.

"You are thinking of going in there? Down there?"

"I already did."

"And what did you find down there?"

Brighter. Madder.

"Mostly weird feelings."

"Only that?"

The heat of unwanted attention prickles your skin. She wants something from you.

"Silo was abandoned in a hurry. Many things left down there, things left intact, yes. Documents, papers, discs... other things."

"Have you been down there?"

"No. Never."

"You know what is down there, don't you? The things they breed in the darkness?"

"What 'things' are you talking about?"

"Dolphin-human hybrids. A tortured species, originally bred for deep-space exploration, abandoned as inviable."

You look into her eyes. She's not on anything chemical, nor is she sober. This is a different kind of high.

"Sorry to disappoint you, there's no dolphin hybrids."

"Aha maybe there are chambers you didn't reach yet. Secrets within secrets, layers below layers."

Her faith is impenetrable. Anything you disprove will have an answer that wraps itself around it and subsumes it.

"Did Bagman tell you about this, too? Because if so, he's full of shit."

"Sounds like bullshit. Did you get this from Bagman, too?"

"That's where you're wrong. There are secrets within secrets, projects within projects. Nestor's space program disguised his breeding program. Yes, the subcomandante explained it well."

She really wants you to explore the silo for her.

It's not about the dolphins. There's something else here.

"Sounds like bullshit."

"Go and see for yourself. Yes, go and find out. I'll wait here, see how you fare."

"Woah. Are they still down there?"

"So they say. Go and find out. I'll wait here, see how you fare."

"Thanks for that, I think I'll take my chances."

"Oh, yes. Yes, do that. I'll wait here, see how you fare."

"I thought it was a rocket silo."

"Appearances, deceiving. Great cover up for what's really going on."

"Like what?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Aha blind up here, blind down there."

"You don't know what is down there? What they bred in the darkness?"

"An old friend."

"You have ... friends down there? Which kind?"

Asset or ex-asset, under no circumstances should you expose HOLOCENE.

"The paranoid kind. You two might get along."

"Human?" The curiosity in her eyes turns to unease. "Not... one of them?"

"Yes, emphatically human."

"Ah good." She actually looks relieved.

"Who is 'them'?"

"The ones down there. The ones they bred in the darkness. You didn't see them?"

"Smart. Eccentric."

"I meant my metaphorical old friend. Loneliness."

"Aha only that? Are you sure?"

"There's a weird old guy does exercise on the stairs."

"Aha yes I have seen him, he is a slave. Just running, running. As though you could run away from this trap. What else?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"I might check it out."

"Very few go down there. Fewer still from curiosity."

Insane, but not a fool -- she intuits some other purpose.

"I'm a rare breed."

"Breed, yes. Of course."

"I might not go down, after all."

"Oh no. Yes, you should, you should."

"Yeah, I'm looking for something in there."

"Is that so is that so... Looking for what?"

"Something called MIHO..."

"Sounds like a government program." She gauges you with suspicion.

"Something related to Nestor's space program."

"Aha yes, yes of course..."

"Don't worry, it's not copper."

"Aha, no. Worse and better things than copper down there."

"What do you care?"

"Aha, I don't. Of course I don't."

But she smiles like she does.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me."

"Aha why?"

"Ever heard of something called 'MIHO'?"

"Mmh, Subcomandante Bagman has never talked about anything like that."

"Sounds like a government program." She gauges you with suspicion.

THE PEOPLE'S SPY IS A GOVERNMENT PROGRAM.

"There's nothing wrong with serving the people."

"Mmmrr..." She emits a long, low growling sound and eyes you like a cautious animal.

A feral cunning revealed. About to bolt or spring at the first false move.

"Thought something like that. Not afraid of you."

"Whatever it is, I think it's at the bottom of the silo."

"Aha, this is why you are so curious, yes?"

"Go, go and find out what they have for you. I will be waiting, yes, to hear what you find..." A series of quick nods give away a sickly excitement.

An insane copper stripper wants to use you as a canary in a coal mine.

It's time to re-evaluate the decisions that have led you to this point.

"At the bottom...?"

Something flares in her eyes. The same sheen of keen paranoia, brightened threefold.

"You are going down? That is where your interest lies yes?"

"Yes."

"Maybe..."

"Why are you suddenly so curious?"

"They sent me a fax... from the silo."

"From the silo, you say?"

"I brought some copper for you."

Alternative wording

"I brought some more copper for you."

"Let's see..." She takes the springs from your hand.

"Aha, yes, this is good metal. Take it, take the false money!" She cackles as she pulls out another wad of money and throws it at you without counting.

The crumpled bills bounce off your chest. You catch some, the rest fall to the ground.

"Hey! You hand it over properly, or I'm not taking it."

"Aha, who cares? Soon we won't need false money. No, we won't."

Pick the bills up from the ground.

You pick up the loose bills and unfold them, one by one. She doesn't even look at you, enraptured by her new copper springs.

You have never been paid in a more degrading way.

"You want more? There is always more. Bring me more copper and I will give you more."

Let it go.

The money rolls and flutters away into the barren emptiness of the islet.

"Aha, you say you're not a scavenger, but you're a good scavenger. Yes, very proficient!" She presses the money into your hands.

"Hey, that's way less than last time!"

"Fool! It's all false. Zero plus zero is still zero."

"Here, fool." She tosses another handful to the winds.

She's like a bottomless well. Shake her and more will come out.

"I am close yes very close to completing it. Bring me one more. One more piece of copper and we will break out of false time..."

Take it and go.

"Ah, yes. Oh, yes. Yes, this is all I need." She snatches the springs form your hands and stares at them greedily.

An insane sun rises from behind her eyes.

The twisting of your guts confirms it: You have done a very bad thing.

"Hey, what about my money!"

"Take it. Take it all. We won't need it anymore. No, we won't." She empties her pockets in two great fistfuls.

A queasy feeling comes over you as you gather up the piles of loose change.

Somehow you know she is right: where you are going, money will not help you.

"Excellent. Thank you."