Conversation · Kim Kitsuragi

"You know who might be, though? That Mr. Villedrouin, the uh... gentleman you needlessly antagonised in the apartments..."

"If you're trying to get in touch with the Coalition, I would start by finding some way to apologise to him. But first you might need to speak with his young companion."

"Now, was there anything else?"

"You know who might be, though? That Mr. Villedrouin, the uh... gentleman you met in the young man's apartment..."

"If I were trying to get in touch with the Coalition, I would start by seeking him out. But first you might need to speak with his young companion."

"You know who might be, though? That Mr. Heidelstam, the gentleman near the Feld building with the... distinctive way of speaking."

"If you're serious about this, you might keep your eyes out for any Coalition officials we might happen to run across."

"Yes, exactly."

"Fascinating. And here I believed your recent turn toward moralism was just an act."

(Spread your arms wide.) "For this whole situation."

(Point to yourself.) "For my disaster of a life."

"But isn't that your job?"

"No, no. I meant like la responsabilité. You know, the kind that gets assigned."

"I can't give up street drugs now. I just got addicted to them!"

"Oh, I'm not giving up drinking. It's what got me where I am today!"

"If you ask me, it's past time for you to cut back on the smoking. You seem like a man with a death wish. It's quite disturbing."

"If you ask me, it's past time for you to lay off the street drugs you've been abusing. They really aren't helping us solve the case."

"If you ask me, it's high time for you to set aside these frivolous side tasks and focus 100% of your energies on the case before us."

"Good. We're on the same page then."

"To be completely honest, detective, I've been meaning to raise that very subject with you."

"Aren't we going to talk about the boots I'm wearing?"

"Okay -- let's talk about it. You stole the boots." He looks at the gleaming technological footwear you're sporting.

"Congratulations. That must have taken an enormous, concerted effort. Considerable ingenuity. And timing. Now -- I'm going to report you and you're going to go to jail."

Oh no, you're a cop, you can't go to jail...

LIE! LIE TO GET OUT OF IT!

"You are?"

"It was a joke, sadly. There's nothing I can do about your delinquency." He sighs. "What's done is done. Let's get back to policework."

I don't care about your insane theft, the lieutenant thinks and looks away from the boots. Just know: if anyone asks me, I will snitch on you.

"You're joking."

"Am I?" He arches his brow. "Anyway, did you want something -- related to policework?"

"Please don't, I was just..."

"These are not the same boots. I liked them so much I went and bought myself a pair."

"Sure." He nods. "Anyway, did you want something -- related to policework?"

"I found out what the pale is while you were gone."

"Wonderful." He does not seem surprised. "What is your takeaway?"

"I think it's terrifying."

"Then I was right to spare you from it, no?" He cracks a little smile. "Anyway, the pale is no more terrifying than, say, water. Or death. Or that we're stuck behind our eyes, for all eternity..." He looks around, pensive suddenly.

"Excuse me. Large topics are not my forte. You seem stable enough. Keep it that way. Now -- was there anything else or should we get to it?"

"I'm super cool with all of it."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm glad to see you're stable." He nods approvingly. "Keep it that way. Now -- was there anything else, or should we get to it?"

"It seems unreal."

"It all seems unreal, detective. In actuality, the pale is no more unreal than, say, water. Or death. Or that we're stuck behind our eyes, between our own ears, talking..." He looks around, pensive suddenly.

"Wait, you're not surprised?"

"I can't stop a grown man from learning about the fundamental geographic and entroponetic features of our world, can I?"

Perhaps I shouldn't have tried, he thinks.

Perhaps I was overprotective, is what's insinuated.

"Where are we, Lieutenant Kitsuragi?"

"In Elysium," he replies. "Behind our eyes. Like all human beings, detective." He looks around and sighs. "The world is what it is. I'm glad to see you're stable. Keep it that way."

"Now -- was there anything else or should we get to it?"

"Tell me about the case again."

"What do you want to know?"

"Can we go over the preliminary info again?"

"You mean like a brief? Do you want me to brief you again?"

"No. I'll wing it."

"There's no reason to wing anything. If you didn't get the brief, that's okay, I did."

"Three days ago, the RCM Emergencies Desk received a report about a security guard who was found hanged in Martinaise. An anonymous caller said there was a dead body behind the Whirling-in-Rags hostel-cafeteria. The cadaver had been there for four days -- no one had come to investigate..."

"During that time, the victim had been stripped of his belongings. The caller did not identify him, but used the word lynching. There is an ongoing labour dispute between the local dockworkers and the logistics company Wild Pines. I was told we should approach the death as part of this dispute."

"Why didn't we know anything about the caller?"

"They -- Klaasje, as we've come to suspect -- didn't identify themselves in any way. The tone was muffled using a device of some sort. The desk could identify neither the caller's age nor sex."

"Why hide themselves?"