Conversation · Acele

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. No one understands that sometimes you've got to make sacrifices for the sake of progress. It's all very distressing."

"So, the thing that's been eating you... is the slow pace of social progress?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for slow and steady progress. I just wish people would be a little more reasonable, is all."

"Okay, so you're not that upset, it sounds like."

"I told you, I'm highly distressed by this state of affairs."

"Uh huh, and you're sure it's social progress you're distressed about and not, I don't know, some chick?"

"Exactly. I don't wanna talk about it."

"You sure?"

"Actually...."

"Go ahead..."

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, I had some questions for you."

The tape recorder lies on the wooden floorboards like a discarded toy. Pick it up.

"I'd like to know more about your associates..."

"Tell me more about this music place you've been planning in the church."

"What's that device you have there?"

"Sure. Contact mic." She nods, staring at the recording device in her hands.

"Actually, that's it for now." [Leave.]

"Okay, bye." She turns her attention back to the recording device.

"You seem surprisingly comfortable with being questioned. Why's that?"

"The others told me you went inside the church. What did you see in there?"

"Your associates tried to use me to set up a drug lab. I'm guessing you knew of this plan."

"Yeah, can we talk for a minute?"

"I was wondering when you would come around. What's up?"

"Have you seen a suspicious woman around here? A woman who looked like she might be on the run?"

"No."

"Just no?"

"It's pretty desolate here, I only hear the dogs bark at night and see the shadows move down the coast."

Long shadows, short shadows. Quiet shadows of local children, loud shadows drunks and also a shadow made of sticks... you breathe on your hands for warmth.

Teenagers skulking around. Gang-members looking for a hole in the Union's defences? Maybe Ruby too, but she wouldn't be able to tell from here.

"Considering what we're trying to do here this doesn't look like a good sign."

"Superstition. We can turn the grim desolation into a fun dance club, and thus also help turn this hell-hole around."

"That's good. No neighbours to complain about noise when you get the club going."

"Exactly. It's our chance to turn the grim desolation into an overwhelmingly fun dance party!"

Catch the silver bird.

"O pasăre de argint" -- it flutters by your ear.

It's what the "Zemlyaki" -- the Graadian community in Revachol -- call a person who never breaks under interrogation. It's an organized crime term.

"O pasăre de argint."

"Excuse me?" She casually brushes her hand through her hair.

She's attempting to remain calm, but the phrase made her flinch.

"I remember now... it's a Zemlyaki term. For someone who won't break under questioning. An organized crime term."

"What do you mean?"

"That's why you've handled my questioning so calmly."

"All right," she concedes. "My father was a Zemylaki. He died years ago. He was a bad man. Not a lot of good things to say about him and what he did."

"He bought the family a huge house, so we got to live... at least temporarily... in a giant castle in Jamrock. And then he died."

"Never mind, I don't really want to hear any of this."

"Yes, better that way..."

"Oh, hmm, I can imagine what followed after."

"You and I both, although... I don't have to imagine. The competition came and took everything away. It was like in a war zone..." She's gritting her teeth.

"So after his death we had nothing left. And we were in danger. My mother had to change her name, mine too. We left it all behind."

"Are you sure about that? What about this drug lab plan?"

"It was a stupid idea and I'm still disappointed I came up with it."

"Aren't there any local authorities who might look down on such activities?"

"I took that into account, of course. Coordinated the operation with the Débardeurs, else they might get... unhappy."

"So, what you're saying is... Evrart authorized this?"

"Not in person, but I let them know. You can't do anything without the fat ones getting wind. It wasn't too difficult to convince them, really..."

Remember those bold, new exotic revenue streams Evrart said he was going to fund his harbour with? You should go back and ask him about that.

"I was kinda hoping you'd end this mess, though. It feels like I've been turning dad-wise, into a corrupt business-person. I don't like it."

Hear that? Set justice on its feet. CONFRONT EVRART.

C'mon. This is all fine, but you don't have anything on Evrart now. That's not how these things work.