OPERANT

"In any event, it's almost time for my evening break. There's probably some other operant somewhere who's gone squishy on their post-historical materialism. Have a good day, CASCADE."

"In any event, it's getting late here. There's probably some other operant somewhere who's gone squishy on their post-historical materialism. Goodnight, CASCADE."

"In any event, it's nearly morning here. There's probably some other operant somewhere who's gone squishy on their post-historical materialism. Speak soon, CASCADE."

"In any event, it's almost time for my lunch break. There's probably some other operant somewhere who's gone squishy on their post-historical materialism. Speak soon, CASCADE."

"Luck and skill, operant."

"Was Operant PROBABLE ever assigned to Portofiro?"

"Your hot new operant left one half in his cigarettes and the other in his pants."

"Operant CASCADE. You made it." Her tone changes, instantly more familiar. "You're doing something to your voice."

"Yes, you do. Is he zeroed out, operant?"

"The tram, operant. Get moving."

"Are we really talking about Portofiro, operant?"

"Believe what you choose, operant."

Five-thousand kilometres away, in a small office deep underground, a mid-level controller of the Operant Bureau leans forward and cups a hand over her earpiece.

"Luck and skill, operant."

"The operant who was last seen hurling himself out your window? Absolutely not."

"Then long may you rock, operant." You detect a coy smile on the other side of the line.

"Operant, you made it." Her tone changes, instantly more familiar. "Your voice hasn't changed."

"If the rest of that question would potentially disparage the reputations of Operant PROBABLE and Director Twitchitov, I'd suggest you consider not asking it aloud and on the magic box."

"Oh, excellent. Our trusted operant has become a liberal internationalist. Next thing I know you're going to tell me you've taken up with the Bank."

"Come on, Mel: Who's your favourite operant?"

The Operant Bureau probably has loads of boats. A whole secret navy.

"Operant, I'm glad you called. How's it going over there?"

'Null entities' are the lowest forms of matter in the Operant Bureau's extended cosmology. Reserved for traitors, falsifiers, and thieves.

"If I recall, the aero-trams there have jukeboxes in them. I suppose you could rig one of them to play it, but... I don't know, operant."

'Finally lost it'? Or maybe the more diplomatic but equally damning 'Operant withdrawn for symptoms of clinical exhaustion'.

Don't let her down -- become the operant she needs you to be.

PROBABLE was the Operant Bureau's most valuable performer in 66. His true assignment must have been a high-level hold.

"It works. Get moving, operant."

"Did who reach out, operant?"

"Good. Very good, operant. This is a lot to work with. Hold on." She's writing furiously.

"I'm happy for you, operant."

"Your hot new operant left one half in his cigarettes and the other in his pants."

"What else is on your mind, operant?"

"Operant CASCADE. You made it." Her tone changes, instantly more familiar. "Your voice hasn't changed."

"Now you've heard it. Get moving, operant."

"Also, he asked me to pass this on: 'Though any trust comes pre-eroded, M.I.H.O. looks forward to working with the Operant Bureau.'"

"Oh, excellent. Our trusted operant has gone techno-fascist. Next thing I know you're going to tell me you've gotten hard into L-Pop."

"Oh, excellent. Our trusted operant wants millions of people to die for someone's political slogan. The mill needs more bones for grist."

"Operant, we're meant to defend the working classes, not become them."

"I'm having trouble following your logic, operant. Who meant it to fail?"

That's assuming it's a legitimate defection and not a double bluff from a vastly superior operant.

"Then long may you rock, operant." You detect a coy smile on the other side of the line.

"That's a directive, operant. This assignment is over. Get on the next tram."

"That's operant-level work, ESTOC. You're out of line."

Cryptonym on full display on a public noticeboard. Bravo, operant. Potentially a match-ending 'own goal'.

"I was recruited by a very competent operant. He was killed. There was another operant. She was killed. Ahaha! The third was recalled when he went insane. You were the fourth. The worst."

According to Opera lore, there was a secret convent crystal worshipping nuns -- who spoke enchanted words, issued irrefusable commands. They lived in secret until Operant PROBABLE infiltrated their ranks and stole the word for 'subdue'.

Times are once again dire, operant -- your own shadow has turned against you. An Advanced Cognitive Manoeuvre could win the day.

According to Opera lore, there was a secret convent crystal worshipping nuns who spoke enchanted words, issued irrefusable commands. They lived in secret until Operant PROBABLE infiltrated their ranks and stole the word for 'subdue'.

You have been too public in who you talk to about an artefact that effectively zeroed out a fellow Operant, even if it has been rendered useless.