"The aerial creep is still up there, menina. Creeping."

"The aerial creep is still up there, menina. Creeping."

"Why were you so worried about the pylon guy?"

"Well..."

She lowers her voice, hunches forward.

"The dockworkers suspect they found an agent of the Weeping Eye, working right here in the bazaar!"

Your heart convulses at their mention.

"What made them think that?"

"Found him taking Luzian money. Carmuna doesn't believe it though, menina. They got the wrong man."

"You thought pylon guy was Weeping Eye and you sent me there without warning? I'm hurt."

"Well... you look sturdy. And you are an outsider, yes? No harm to you."

"But the dock men did get the wrong man. The one they fired bought a beautiful coat from Carmuna's stall just last week. Nobody with the Eye could be so polite or have such good taste in outerwear."

The dockworkers must have had more information on him. Find out what you can, if there are Weeping Eye here, you need to know why.

Ask about the coat. Sounds cool.

"Why do you think the Weeping Eye would be interested in the bazaar?"

"They're Luzian, menina. Bazaar's full of bootlegs! They're keeping an eye on their wares."

The Weeping Eye do not care about knock-off toys. If they're here then something is happening levels above her head.

"Give it to me straight -- was this coat better than mine?"

"How could Carmuna compare the fruits of her rack?"

"The one you're wearing? I'm afraid so, menina."

Find that coat and fuck it up.

"Describe this coat -- it may be warming techno-fascist shoulders."

"It would never! It was a trenchcoat, multicoloured but predominantly oranges, reds. It recalled a carpet bag of the olden variety."

You're familiar with the coat -- this is the man who tailed you through the bazaar.

"And he always had a camera. Ask yourself menina, would a Weeping Eye man walk around with a camera? Too obvious."

"He may have something to do with me losing my colleague..."

"Nonsense, he's a nice gentleman just like your colleague is a nice boy. What do you possibly think he could have to do with any losing?"

First assignment off the shelf and you're being stalked by a suspected operant killer. Kill yourself to get it over with.

"I seem to attract horrors and woe so I just assume they're connected."

"You and Carmuna both. Best to just pull up a chair."

Let the Boatman know you're in the Weeping Eye's sight: it may twist his arm.

"Could have been that camera. It stole my colleague's soul."

"All cameras take a little of you, menina. Look at these people."

She lowers her magazine for a moment, showing you a two-page spread of young women showcasing different makeup styles with step-by-step instructions.

A purple and silver eyeshadow look with glitter stars is labelled 'The Violeta'.

"Soulless hussies all. But don't blame that nice gentleman!"

"I don't know but I can punch him until I find out."

"You leave him alone! Unladylike."

Let the Boatman know you're in the Weeping Eye's sight: it may twist his arm.

"It's a good thing, maybe this man knows how to bring him back."

"Can't you just call for him, menina? That nice boy can't have gone far."

Beyond the edges of the universe, falling into a tourmaline haze.

"He chased me through the bazaar."

"That's why you were jumping and leaping around the place! Carmuna thought you'd lost your mind."

"He wasn't chasing. You misunderstood. That is not the outerwear of a chaser. Poor menina, you are paranoid. Carmuna will say a prayer to Polaris to lighten your thoughts."

Prayers won't help. Let the Boatman know you're in the Weeping Eye's sight: it may twist his arm.

"He is definitely Weeping Eye. You need to be sharper."

"Rude... Rudeness everywhere..."

Let the Boatman know you're in the Weeping Eye's sight: it may twist his arm.

"I've seen him up close -- we can definitely file that coat under 'questionable'."

Alternative wording

"I've seen him -- that coat is absolutely not better than mine."

"This is all a matter of taste. And not having any."

He was at Foto 24 and your double is incapacitated. This is now your prime suspect.

The coat sounds familiar -- this is the man who was talking to your special asset in Foto 24.

The man in Foto 24. Were the Weeping Eye that close to you already?

"Do you know his name, where he went?"

"He was like a son to me, menina! But no, never got his details."

"The pylon guy told me a man in a garish coat was following me..."

"Garish? No, this coat was the treasure of the rack. Must not be the same man."

Look at these clothes -- she wouldn't know gare in a circus. It's absolutely the same man.

"I have all I need to know about that." (Back.)

"Very well."

"Tell me about the man they accused."

"He bought a beautiful coat from Carmuna's stall just last week. A real gentleman! Nobody with the Eye could be so polite or have such good taste in outerwear."

Does she mean Ignatz?

"Garish coat, big camera?"

"Garish? You call that garish? A coat from Carmuna's own stall! A beautiful coat at that. You don't listen to any rumours about him, menina. A nice man."

...Is she talking about Ignatz?

Perhaps the one who's been following you...

The same man who followed you through the bazaar?

The man who's been following you?

"Taking money from a Luzian source proves nothing, what else was there?"

"Oh nobody tells Carmuna. But still -- they got the wrong man!"

"Dockworkers should have kicked his face backward."

"And invite the retribution of the Eye? Think about it! And it was not him, menina."

The techno-fascist secret police of La Luz -- dark subconscious of the state, specialising in old school, ugly methods.

Your natural enemies. The ones who took you all apart five years ago. Hackles rise.

"Weeping Eye?"

"Weeping Eye! Secret police, from La Luz. How do you get to be your age without knowing to fear the Eye?"

La Luz, the techno-fascists. Why would they send Operants to Portofiro?

"What are you hiding in that magazine?"

"Quiet, menina. Does Carmuna blurt your business? Who are you anyway?"

She ruffles the magazine angrily, then looks up at something behind you.

Fear in her eyes. Like you're being watched.

"Is someone watching us?"

"Shh, menina. Keep your voice down. For all we know he is listening, too."

"We are dealing with an aerial creep. He's watching the whole bazaar. Carmuna has a mirror in here, to watch him in turn."

The woman angles her magazine towards the unfinished pylon towering at the edge of the market.

"Those are the signs of a common perv. Don't be so paranoid."

"This is not paranoia menina. Look at the times!"

It's paranoia.

Paranoia has saved the life of many an operant. Yours could be next.

"Looks like he's about to jump."

"Many good funeral clothes on the rack if you want to ensure you go out with dignity, menina. But no, he is there every day and never jumping."

"Used to give him what for whenever we made eye-contact, but he was unmoved. Very suspicious."

Her movements are fitful and tremulous -- the arched back suggests a lifetime spent on her feet, contorted over something.

It runs deeper than that. Some kind of neurological cause.

"He is creeping. Keeping watch on behalf of Polaris knows who. Monitoring our wares, espying our comings and goings. Carmuna will tell you all about your nice boy if you go find out why."

"Sounds intimidating. I'll go and find out what he's up to."

"Be careful, menina -- don't mention Carmuna! Go through that gate just south of here and keep going down, you'll get to him."

"Bet you don't even know anything. I'm out of here."

"Everybody the same..."

"He is creeping. Keeping watch on behalf of Polaris knows who. Monitoring our wares, espying our comings and goings."

"Very intimidating. I'll go and find out what he's up to."

"Be careful, menina -- don't mention Carmuna! Go through that gate just south of here and keep going down, you'll get to him."

"Sounds like a 'you' problem, and I'm a 'me' person."

"Everybody the same..."

"Looks like he's got some equipment up there. He's creeping for higher powers."

"Let them come, menina. Carmuna prefers soldiers to spies."

Give him the finger.

"Menina, no! Carmuna used to be of a similarly fingered disposition toward him but can't be too careful, now. All sorts of bad types around these days... Bazaar isn't what it was."

"Perhaps he's a tourist of abstraction."

"Don't be so naive. All sorts of bad types around these days... bazaar isn't what it was."

Turn to look.

"No! Are you crazy? He will see." She hits herself with the magazine. "Now Carmuna has said too much."

She peers out from behind the pages, eyes softening. She has deemed you clumsy enough to be trustworthy.

"Reveal the nature of your scheme or meet my sick high kicks."

"Please, menina, Carmuna may be old but she'll snap those skinny legs straight off at the hip like you're a four-hour boiled chicken."

She smiles and leans back, endeared by your threat.

"What are you reading?"

"Stories, articles. Nothing for the interest of yourself."

You spot a flash of light from between the pages before she ruffles them away from you -- she's hiding something in there.

"Carmuna? Did you make this order for Superbloc socks?" (Show her PSEUDOPOD's purchase order.)

"I did, and that is all the ordering I shall do. No harassing Carmuna! I told that nice boy, nobody is coming to the bazaar to buy communist socks!"

PSEUDOPOD convinced her to buy stock that she can't move, impressive.

Good thing he's fucked up then. Can't have him making you look bad.

"So why did you place the order?"

"To help him get his confidence up! Poor thing didn't have a single order, wasn't ready for these jackals out here. They still do things by the old ways in the Superbloc, menina. Traditional ways."

Not impressive, then. Pathetic, in fact. A consolation order.

Impressive that he was able to win this woman over. He inspires empathy. Valuable trait.

"It's a tiny amount."

"You're not getting any more!"

"He's my colleague. What did you talk about, where did he go?" (Proceed.)

"You're working with that nice boy?"

Her lips shrivel and her eyebrows descend as she takes you in properly.

"He was dressed so nicely. Standing so straightly. Polite! Had Carmuna thinking that there might be hope for us in Kohila -- but you don't look Superbloc at all."

She means we don't look like history set sail to 'Fuck It Island' and left us standing on the shore wondering what happened.

UNCURL YOURSELF. FLAUNT YOUR FINE COMMUNIST SPINAL COLUMN.

Stand up straight.

"Oh, don't you do it, you're far too tall. You'll get no suitors looming over people like that."

"That nice boy had never seen an aerotram before. Said they were the most beautiful thing in the world. Then couldn't help himself but say, 'Must be a nightmare for the zoning division'. How Carmuna laughed!"

A soft click as he places his briefcase on the cobblestone, stops to clean his glasses. He replaces them, blinking up at the aerotrams and the birds circling beneath. He smiles.

"We could have seen so many trams together... if I didn't let him down."

"He's probably avoiding you, doesn't want you harming his sales, yes?"

"Go see about that aerial creep up there, and Carmuna will tell you more about your nice boy."

"Fine. But if he kills me then I'm haunting you up."

"Yes yes, just don't mention Carmuna to the creep himself! Go through that gate just south of here and keep going down, you'll get to him."

"Fine. But if he wangs me then I'm haunting you up."

"Still no, you extorting witch."

She ruffles her magazine in frustration.

"Carmuna will tell you all about your nice boy when you get back from the aerial creep."

She focuses her attention back toward her magazine, careful not to let you see inside.

"Carmuna would help, but it's a busy day. Other matters to attend to."

DISABUSE HER OF WHATEVER INANITY SHE'S CONCEALING IN THAT MAGAZINE. SHE HAS INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR DOUBLE.

"Zoning nightmares are no joke. They become real; spawn places you can't leave."

"That's almost true menina, the phenomenon has nothing to do with zoning. People trap themselves."

"I'm not laughing. I have to clean up his mess."

"What nonsense are you talking? If you've lost him he's probably just avoiding you, doesn't want you harming his sales, yes?"

"He was drawn to transportation -- interesting. Something took him too far."

"You mean to the Pitol Tract, perhaps? You can get there by tuk-tuk, easy."

"Nothing guerilla about being polite, lady. This is my revolution stance."

"Carmuna thinks you sound like a nitwit, menina. And Carmuna knows nitwits."

"He's drooling, trouserless, probably shitting himself by now. Rough stuff."

"Carmuna will hear nothing of trouserlessness or shitting. Unless of course you are buying trousers. In which case -- rack over there."

"He's in trouble."

"What trouble? There was no trouble with him. It's his first time out of the Superbloc you know, you should take him to see some sights!"

"Was my colleague here, by any chance? Brown jacket, glasses, big into socks."

"You're working with that nice boy? He was fine Superbloc suet. I should have known you were cut from the same cow the way you handled that creep."

"I sent him to the docks west of here -- head boatman there reports directly to the bazaar manager, in charge of imports exports. Maybe he knows where he went."

So either the boatman was lying or PSEUDOPOD never made it over to him.

The former. Ask him again.

Then she knows no more than you did already.

"You're working with that nice boy? The sock seller?"

"You're working with that nice boy? The sock seller?"

Sock merchant for the Im-Ex Bureau. One of the Opera's most battle-tested covers.

"I've lost track of a colleague of mine -- double breasted Superbloc jacket, glasses."

"You were going to tell me about my colleague from the Superbloc."

"Ah, yes. He was fine Superbloc suet! I should have known you were cut from the same cow the way you scaled that pylon."

"I sent him to the docks west of here -- head boatman there reports directly to the bazaar manager, in charge of imports exports. Maybe he knows where he went."

"Changed my mind. I'll check out the aerial creep."

"Be careful, menina -- don't mention Carmuna! Go through that gate just south of here and keep going down, you'll get to him."

"Let me see what you're selling."

"Take a look through the rack over there. No lice, no rips, no patches."

When she points to the rack you notice that her fingers are several shades too dark, as if stained with ink.

"Have you seen Malen's father?"

"Afraid not, menina. That poor girl."

"Carmuna sees this magazine."

"That man with the coat is definitely Weeping Eye. Chased me through the bazaar."

"That's why you were jumping and leaping around the place! Carmuna thought you'd lost your mind."

"But he wasn't chasing. You misunderstood. That is not the outerwear of a chaser. Poor menina, you are paranoid. Carmuna will say a prayer to Polaris to lighten your thoughts."

"What are the teens wearing these days? I need to blend in."

"You already bought the most teen thing on the rack, menina. The musical t-shirt, yes?"

"Carmuna knew once." She shrugs. "But these days, it is a mystery."

No, she knows, but she won't help out a thief. Looks like you're on your own.

"Allegiance clothes, Carmuna calls them. Whatever has their favourite music on it. Lately, the Violeta girl is winning." She gestures toward her racks. "Take a look, I have one."

"The gate down there is locked, I can't get through."

"Locked?" She tuts. "Well go around. Up the stairs then to your left and down through the docks."

"I have questions about this place."

Alternative wording

"I have more questions about the bazaar..."

"Yes?"

"Tell me how you came to run this stall."

"Hm. Humouring an old woman, doing your good deed for the day? Buffing up your soul?"

"That's the idea. Is it working?"

"No, menina. Your soul still looks small and shabby from here. For that, you need the stars. But I'll tell you anyway."

"It started with the fire in Essilk #3. Half the city worked for that company -- and all of us suddenly out of work. It was very difficult times."

"But at first it was exciting. The whole city came to watch it burn. We drank, we sobbed. I danced with a soldier boy who I had no intention of marrying. He's dead now."

Shining with a film of sweat in the orange glow, the lovers twirl and stomp. Cheers, singing, the thrill of the crowd. Ash rains on trashcan drums.

"The flames subsided, and we waited like refugees around the cooling brick for management to return, rebuild. They never did. So we began to search the ruins, see what we could salvage."

"What caused the fire?"

"Phpt." She waves her hand angrily. "They probably did it themselves for the insurance, or some poor dye-girl finally had a nervous break. Who knows."

"Carmuna has nothing but time, but none for that mystery anymore." She grins. "Only perhaps to wish it had been me."

"Sorry to hear that your soldier died."

"He was never mine, just borrowed him from another. And it's alright, menina. Drink, work, hard living. We lead difficult lives, we expire."

"Sounds like you were hussing."

"Ahaha! Yes." She snorts. "Yes. Just a little hussing in Carmuna's youth."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"It is a happy memory."

"So you stole from the factory, you're a thief."

"Carmuna a thief? Coming from you? Ridiculous."

"It is Essilk who stole. Our health, our hopes, our time. We reclaimed lost wages from the wreckage."

She glances at her own wares, daring them to challenge her on the fact.

"Sounds like the fire was more of a party than a disaster."

"One creates the other, and around and around they go."

"You started by selling salvage, then?"

"Yes. We loaded it up on the cargo boats as if it were dye. The dockworkers found buyers, which turned them into smugglers."

"This area has been a market ever since, though the contents and bosses are changing like the leaves."

"Good to know, thanks Carmuna." (Back.)

"You are most welcome."

"I'm interested in urban history."

"Is that so? Well, listen to your doña Carmuna."

"What's that statue over there?" (Point to the statue in the water.)

"Nestor." She does not look up.

"We used to paint that statue with all sorts of insults when it still stood. We knew slurs you haven't even imagined, menina..."

She sighs, nostalgic.

"He promised us Nestorismo. A new type of politics, his own invention. A middle ground between the Developed World and the Superbloc."

"Sounds sensible. A compromise, taking the best of both ideas."

"That's what we thought."

She jerks her chin over to the statue. Nestor's pondweed eyes stare up at the sky through a foot of rank canal water.

"You see how it went."