Blueprints

The grinning 'Financial Citizen' welcomes you back, his offer still on the table.

The carabinero and his controller are deep in conversation.

She spins toward you, arm raised.

Movement at your peripheral vision.

You wake to blurry vision, thudding ears, and a dull ache in your lower spine.

"Perhaps someone should go down and check on Boris and Irina?"

You return to the shelves.

"You should probably find your colleague."

"Welcome, welcome."

"Hey, bud!"

You find yourself staring at the dummy once more.

"Hersh."

You step up to the terminal again.

A ruined sofa with a sad story to tell.

The wall where Bagman once stared at you is now blank.

You stare up at the high filing cabinet.

There is no response, just the sound of your own breath against cool plastic.

You can make out an impression of the Bazaar beyond the window, obscured by dust and grime.

The stall remains as haphazard as ever, its payment bucket near empty.

"Hard to believe, but it seems the gap is widening, even as we speak!"

You're in the clear. Give it a go.

"Operant... are you busy?"

Bagman gestures wildly on the television screen. This is the ad for the Reality Situation you've seen before.

There is nothing more to see here.

There is no answer.

"Well? Have you found out about the gap yet?"

"Yo, habibti." Goat Eyes flicks his cigarette.

You return to the hole.

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

"Hello, again."

You pick out the latest issue of 'The Noscorrentes Review' and feel its hefty weight once again.

"Mm. Hey."

You return to the door of the little houseboat.

"No rack for you! Pay up."

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

"Wolf time!" The children glance at you before turning back to the television.

Your faint reflection stares back at you from the neighboring building's skylight.

"Alright. Communion with the cricket." Ramses initiates the session with a deft hit of three buttons and a switch.

You approach the children's figurines once again.

"Whatever you did to the hogger, he looks proper sad for once." The old pilot tips his drink to you.

The automat continues its electronic meditation.

A bottle sits in wet surrender among the grime. The label, damp but still holding strong, reads 'Wiśnia Schnapps On-Tour'.

You have arrived at Eszti's doorstep.

"Nothing for it now, CASCADE -- we await the conclusion."

"No flyers, no pamphlets, no gum!"

The hot tub's wrecked. There are cracks in the fibreglass, old water gone viscous. The filter sounds like a drowning goose.

The trio goes silent at your return.

Metal shudders and groans beneath your feet, reverberating downwards.

You face Shelf G once more.

Rotanev's shrine sits undisturbed under its worn wooden awning.