Conversation · Kim Kitsuragi

"If you want to smoke like a rock and roll star, that's up to you. Again, I only have exactly one every night." He blows a steady stream of smoke.

Below, the city trembles with its remaining lights. People are rushing home, running away from home, smoking, sleeping, singing in the shower. Edges of dining tables, hands, aprons flicker through windows before the lights go out.

"Your call, detective. Again, I only have exactly one every night." He blows a steady stream of smoke.

"I think I might want to pick up smoking. Do you have any more cigarettes?"

"I apologize, but I only brought one with me. I have exactly one cigarette every night while going over my notes."

"Right then -- the debrief." (Return to it.)

"Yes," he pulls on the cigarette. "It's been a long and eventful day. "

And then there's the fact that he looks way cool doing it.

Say nothing. Just look into the night.

The dying lights of the city shimmer below -- slowly, like luminous clouds, they pass on his lenses. The lieutenant looks at his slim cigarette, contemplating the next drag.

This soldier is the highlight of the day for me, he thinks. This little stick right here.

An aerostatic passes overhead -- the whiskers of its floodlights on the ground below. Kitsuragi's glasses light up as he looks to the sky. Two glowing circles.

"They really don't like us here. And the mouth on that kid, Cuno... It's different inland. In Jamrock and the G.R.I.H." He pulls on the cigarette.

"Why are they like this?"

"It's our fault for leaving this place to the dogs. To the Union. To the company. Not daring to come here more often. It's like I told you -- this place is an orphan. Fallen between the cracks..."

"And in Jamrock and the G.R.I.H?" (Continue.)

"We run this city. West of the river is RCM land." He looks at the dark silhouette of the equestrian monument cutting into the night sky.

"It's incredibly hard. Human beings are..." He shakes his head. "But we are in control. And it's worth it. The organization works. Our systems work. If they didn't, this city would disintegrate."

Night. Captain Ptolemy Pryce steps into the yard. A piebald horse waits by the motor carriage, chewing oats out of an oat-bag. Seagulls fly overhead. The sky is black. Captain Pryce wears a black suit and a standard patrol coat as he mounts the horse to head home...

Rows of houses on either side, hunching over the sidewalks -- and Precinct 41 with its dome roof growing distant. Around him the streets are silent. A kid on the corner waves at the captain as he takes the turn on Perdition and Main. The horse neighs. The captain nods back.

Thanks, kid, he thinks. He's grateful.

"What the people need is stronger leadership that would put everyone in line."

"That seems unwise to me, but it's too late for an all-out political debate." He purses his lips.

He is very tired, but the dark circles under his eyes make him look younger, not older.

"I hope our investigation will help improve the situation here. At least do some good."

"Me too," he says quietly. "But I wouldn't count on any drastic changes in our lifetimes."

"We won't change anything here."

"Probably not," he says quietly. "Anyway, positive change happens slowly. We never really get to see the impact of our actions."

"It's our fault for leaving this place to the dogs. To the Union. To the company. Not daring to come here more often. This place has fallen between the cracks. The jurisdictions of our two Precincts."

"They really don't like us here. The Union, the teenagers too... It's different inland. In Jamrock and the G.R.I.H." He pulls on the cigarette.

"How do you think today went?"

"Well, we didn't even look at the body..." The lieutenant raises his eyebrows.

"But we performed a thorough search of the premises of the crime scene. That's great."

Though you really dropped the ball on inspecting the body, he doesn't want you to feel too discouraged. Probably out of fear that you'll just give up and keep drinking...

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more today. I'm just not a very good cop, am I."

He sighs. "We're both doing our best under the circumstances. Just... don't drink tonight, please. As for the interviews..."

"We conducted an interview with Evrart Claire."

"You really got him talking, and now we know a lot about local politics, including Claire's ambitions and drug trade, and also have some viable suspects."

You've really moved up in his estimation.

"Claire also helped you... how should I say? Remember your name? That's a relief."

"See, Kim. I'm becoming a real person."

"Your personhood was never in doubt, officer. Moving on..."

"We interviewed Joyce Messier, the Wild Pines rep, and learned a lot -- none of it very good news for us or Martinaise, but..." He gives you a quick nod of acknowledgement and approval.

"Above all, though... today was exhausting. What's with all the running? You run a lot. Is that a standard Precinct 41 practice?"

I have a really good theory about why you're running so fast, son. Just you wait until we get up tomorrow!

"I don't know why I do the things I do, Lieutenant Kitsuragi."

"It's impressive, to say the least. For a man your age..." He nods thoughtfully, tapping his finger on his cigarette.

"But I guess those sneakers are a perfect fit for running around. Good buy, that." He smiles suddenly.

Thank you for the compliment. We could manage it even in wooden clogs. There are uncanny running-reservoirs in this body -- god knows why...

"It's impressive, to say the least. For a man your age, especially..." He nods thoughtfully, tapping his finger on his cigarette.

"Those are some stylish shoes too, by the way. Those loafers. Must be hard to run in those like you do." He smiles suddenly.

"It's impressive, especially for a man your age -- and in those heels..." He nods thoughtfully, tapping his finger on his cigarette.

"Nice shoes, by the way. I like the green. Goes with the orange." He looks at your snakeskin shoes and smiles, suddenly.

"Alright, but -- and, forgive me, this has been bothering me since this morning -- how have you managed to run around all day wearing only one shoe?"

"I didn't even notice it. The work comes first, you know."

"Well, there seems to be a shoe that is a match to the one you're wearing further down the balcony." He points with his cigarette. "Perhaps you can collect it when we're done talking."

He's right. There it is, green and shiny under the glowing Whirling window... The sky above is dark and the lights sparkle.

"Imagine how much faster you could run wearing a cool patent leather shoe on each foot." He smiles suddenly.

"It's part of my penance. I punish myself."

"I couldn't find my other shoe, and I refuse to wear shoes that aren't as cool as the shoe I'm wearing."