Conversation · Siileng

"Everything's still cool here, officer," the street vendor assures you.

"What kind of stuff are you selling here?"

"Only the coolest goods in Revachol. I've got sneakers, speakers, extremely comfy pants too. Try them on right here. No shame -- only freedom."

"Where'd you get those comfy pants?"

"I'm an entrepreneur, officer!" He begins counting on his fingers. "I've got sources, buyers, suppliers, distributors, manufacturers, wholesalers... all extremely cool and aboveboard."

"Do you have a permit to sell all that?"

"Good joke, officer! Here we don't have permits, just economic freedom. Take a look around..." He takes a deep breath.

You glance around the decrepit buildings, the miserable weather, the sidewalks strewn with sunflower seeds and the dust-choked air...

"...it's beautiful. Beautiful freedom!"

"Kim, is it true? He doesn't need a permit to sell?"

"It is, yes. Anyone can set up their shop whenever they feel like it."

"That's right, no permits, no bureaucracy! That's why this city -- and its law officials -- are so cool!"

"Okay. No permit then. Cool."

"Hyper cool." He nods solemnly, then breathes out a sigh of pride surveying the city around him.

"Wait, but what am I doing here, if there are no permits?" (Stare at the police insignia on your sleeve.)

"If you wanted to be cynical about it, you could say we're here to protect the interests of property holders. I'm not, however."

"My man, officer, you make all this possible! Without you, this climate would be extremely bad for business. You're part of the gossamer state!"

Gossamer is a fine, filmy substance consisting of cobwebs spun by small spiders, seen especially in autumn. It's safe to say he's referring to the near absence of regulations.

"But you're a foreigner. I'm protecting the business interests of foreign nations!"

"Yeah, Revachol's the coolest. Doesn't care about where you're from, who you are... It's all about freedom." He nods admiringly.

"Then I'm protecting a state lawlessness. I'm not an officer of law, I'm an officer of common anarchy."

"Yeah, that's the main thing about you." He nods admiringly. "Freedom is great, it's what lets independent entrepreneurs, like me, sell quality goods at competitive prices."

"So 'cool' guys protect businessmen while everyone else lives in the ruins? I can think of cooler things."

"Yeah -- cool ruins," he agrees. "I get to sell quality goods like these by cutting out the middlemen. You don't have to rebuild your house. Live in a crater! Or in a tree!" He points to a tree. "Where can you do that? Only here."

You're pretty sure you can live in a tree elsewhere too -- but he wouldn't believe it anyway.

"A gossamer state? You're right, this is cool. I'm part of a hip, thin, almost non-existent state apparatus!"

"Sweet, no permits means less work for me. Let's move on."

"That's right. Revachol is the best place for an independent self-employer like myself. That's why it's so cool with all the models coming here and cool celebrities..." He smiles his bright toothpaste-ad smile.

"Wait, is it really true that you don't need a single permit to set up a shop?"

"Is there a discount for cool officers like me?"

"No need for discounts at Siileng's, officer. Everything's already on sale." He nods towards the crates. "Anything you want, 50% off!"

But did he first mark them up 100%, just so he could put them on "sale"?

No use prying.

Yes. It's a business secret. Let him keep it.

"Are those things really on sale or did you just jack up the price first?"

"My man, you know how the game is played! You and me, we should work together. What do you think -- shake things up?" He winks.

"That's all then. Let me ask you something else."

"Anything for you..." He smiles again.

"So... where are you from?"

"Me? It's a boring story, officer. Who cares about the past? I'm all business now -- all Revachol."

This man probably comes from Siigay, sometimes known as the 'Apricot Suzerainty,' an archipelago in the Samaran isola.

"You're from the 'Apricot Suzerainty', right?"

The lieutenant winces at the words -- slightly.

As if you've committed some faux pas.

Apricot Suzerainty calls to mind an era when the Siigay archipelago was colonized by Revachol. It's a bit of a slur, in other words.

Don't fret. Let him answer.

"That's right, officer, but it's a bad scene for business there. Too many regulations, extremely bad for an independent local entrepreneur."

"Hey -- why not support this local entrepreneur? You can start by buying a pair of sexy pants. Or cool sunglasses... maybe some macaroni?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say that you're from..." (Pronounce it very painstakingly.) "... See-guy..."

"Very cool," Siileng nods, his eyebrows furrowed, "I admire your awareness of our intertwined histories. It's super nice of you to apologize for colonialism. But the Apricot Suzerainty is a shithole -- that's why I left."

"Right, but isn't it only a shithole because of Revachol?"

He smiles brightly. "If you say so, officer. I don't worry too much about politics. I'm an entrepreneur, you know? Whatever's good for business is good for me."

"I don't know why I'm talking about this. It's some kind of... mind-reaction." (Point to your head.)

"No, no. It's very cool, officer. You're a cool cop for caring about those things. You should buy cool glasses too." He points to a pile of sunglasses.

"You're welcome. I do try to be supportive of other peoples and cultures."

"That's so cool, officer. Speaking of, why not support an independent local entrepreneur by buying some pants and glasses?"

"Siigay, Apricot Suzerainty -- it's all the same to me, it's all cool. I'm interested in sales. Go ahead, let's make one." He gestures to the boxes. "Super high quality, friendly prices."

(Better not to mention.) "Sounds good. Let's get back to business then."

"Very cool. I like your style, officer."

"But you're not a local, are you?"