Conversation · Trant Heidelstam

"Then there's also the method of climbing that the ancient Iilmaraans used to get into the huts of their enemies."

"Do you know of an alternative way into the building?"

"Alternative? I don't even have a mainstream way in, I'm afraid, although..." He points over the guardrail, to the sewage run-off there.

"There's a sewage pipe there, maybe that does something? Sorry I can't help more."

Pipes can be broken. With force.

"I'm looking for a suspect. Have you seen anyone suspicious around?"

"No, I'm afraid I can't help you with this one, officer. It's just a regular day off for me and Mikael here." He pats his son's head.

"So you haven't seen anyone around?"

"No, I'm sorry. As I said -- this is just a day off. We just arrived anyway."

There's something friendly and familiar in how he says that. A day off.

He's telling the truth. He hasn't seen anyone.

"I want to hear about the Feld building again..."

"Sure, what's on your mind?"

"Good evening!" He nods to you, smiling.

"Hello again!" He nods to you, smiling.

"... and, Mikael, notice the windows? Especially with how there are no windows on the south side? This was to deal with..." A blond man stands next to his son, pointing to the weather-worn ruins. He sees you approaching and smiles...

"You, officers! Come to investigate the historic subtext of West Martinaise? I'm Trant Heidelstam," he turns to the lieutenant. "You must be Kim Kitsuragi, right? I was just telling my son about this building. Not a lot of people realize the historic significance here. Very rich in hypertext."

"Nice to meet you." The lieutenant nods.

"Wait, what was that about the windows before?"

"Oh yes. So, Mikael, they had to deal with monitor glare, especially in the summer. They still had vector monitors back then. That was 49 years ago. So they didn't have windows on the south wall."

"Hold on. Hyper...text?"

"Yes, hypertext," he says, as if it's self-evident. "Jan Kaarp and the collection of cultural hyperlinks."

He's just making up fancy words. This doesn't mean anything!

"You and Kim know each other?" (Proceed.)

"No, I can't say that we've met before. But I've heard of Kim, of course. Mikael, say hi to the officers." He rests his hand on the boy's shoulder. The child stays hidden behind the hem of his father's coat, clutching to his würm-themed colouring book.

"Mikael's a little tired today. We spent all night trying to run Orbis on his radiocomputer. Have you heard of it? It's a programming language used in Graad. Quite tricky, but he wanted to play this Graad-made adventure programme. We've been getting really into würms lately..."

The man speaks in the artificial cadence of a professor -- or someone who's been on too many radio shows.

"But I assume you're not here for giant würms when there are so many real things to see. Just as I was telling Mikael before -- this is where the Coalition landed in '08. We could be standing on what is the most interesting landmark in Revachol West." He points to the building again.

This man is your half brother. You feel it. But why?

Wow, get a load of this guy. He really enjoys his trivia. The Orbis programming language was named after its inventor, Viktor Orbis, a cybernetician from Graad. They run Vox in the Occidental countries...

"Detective, a word." He turns to the blonde man. "Excuse us a moment, please."

"Of course, lieutenant." He nods. "Take your time. Mikael and I have plenty to keep us occupied!"

In a low voice, the lieutenant whispers: "I haven't the faintest idea who this gentleman is, but I've got a hunch he might have some affiliation with the Coalition, in case you're still serious about that committee business..."

"In any case, I'll let you take it from here."

With that, you both turn back to the blonde man.

Something about the way this man carries himself makes you wonder whether he might be able to help you with your committee business.

It's his sartorial style. Call it 'well-travelled bean-counter'...

It's his manner of speaking. He reminds you of a lecturer...

Whatever it is, he gives you an encouraging smile.

"You, officer! Come to investigate the historic subtext of West Martinaise? I was just telling my son about this building. Not many people appreciate the historic significance here. Very rich in hypertext."

"Hold on. Hyper...text?"

"Yes, hypertext," he says, as if it's self-evident. "Jan Kaarp and the collection of cultural hyperlinks."

He's just making up fancy words. This doesn't mean anything!

"Wait, what was that about the windows before?"

"Oh yes. So, Mikael, they had to deal with monitor glare, especially in the summer. They still had vector monitors back then. That was 49 years ago. So they didn't have windows on the south wall."

"Alright, you were talking about the building, go on." (Continue.)

"Very important. Mikael, say hi to the officer." He rests his hand on the boy's shoulder. The child stays hidden behind the hem of his father's coat, clutching to his würm-themed colouring book.