Conversation · Mainframe

Machine's keyboard is still illuminated, revealing virescent PLAY and PRINT buttons.

Read the printout.

The first entry, made on the 4th February '51 by an unknown author, is short and concise:

"Arrived at the church. The door was boarded up, so I used a crowbar to get inside. Looks like the place has been deserted. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I'll ask around. Need to figure out how to get the electricity in."

The lieutenant leans closer, scouring the printout over your shoulder. Just as you finish reading he looks up, muttering under his breath:

"Fourth of February? That's over a month ago... Whoever set up those machines has been here for quite a while."

Let go of the printout.

The machine's keyboard is still illuminated, revealing virescent PLAY and PRINT buttons.

"Do you think this log might be connected to the case?"

"Our case? No, I don't think so. It must be some local..." his eyes wander to the various machines around him, "eccentric."

Read the second entry.

"6th FEB, '51: Had a little chat with the local fishermen. Said I shouldn't go near that place, that the church was spooky and ridden with narcotics. It's a little spooky, alright. Still haven't figured out the electricity."

See? Even one of the spookers themselves says it's unnerving.

What was that about narcotics? This could prove to be interesting.

See -- ridden with narcotics. Just like Andre said.

Read the third entry.

"7th FEB, '51: Finally got the electricity in! Next on the agenda: a new antenna. I'm thinking ESKER series? Something advanced."

Read the fourth entry.

"8th FEB, '51: Bought the antenna, had some problems setting it up, called Simo for help. Heard the others are back to making art (drinking somewhere out of town). Sulisław started a rock band again, Lexie has been seen asking money from strangers..."

Artists, yet again!! Harassing citizens, stealing badges, 'occupying' public spaces with 'installations' like the one here...

"But at least the artists have their act together -- they're qualified labour, they can get work anywhere: graphic design, ads. The programmers are doing fine too, I mean, they're programmers. The writers, though... they're fucked."

"I just have to find out what caused that data loss and be done with it. Still don't understand how it managed to wipe out the backup when the backup wasn't even connected to the front. I know, I know... everyone thinks it's impossible; they say I must be lying. I'm here to set it right."

She must be talking about her former colleagues from Fortress Accident. They all sound like radio game people.

Read the fifth entry.

"12th FEB, '51: Brought some food from the grocery store. Apparently there's a strike going on in the harbour. Definitely not happy to see the Martinaise people again. Everything's now set up in the church, going to start working tomorrow 8 AM."

"The strike..." He strokes his chin. "We're nearing the date of the murder."

"Keep reading, I'm interested now -- I want to know what's that radio anomaly that sent this person here in the first place."

Read the sixth entry.

"25th FEB, '51: I've been sending data up to Lintel for a while now, trying to recreate the data loss, but nothing. Didn't even feel like logging in the disappointment. But I did discover a curious audio-spatial anomaly at the back of the church. I've named it the swallow. (It swallows sound.) Need to get some mics."

"Is she talking about...?" The lieutenant looks to his right, toward the silence.

Read the seventh entry.

"28th FEB, '51: Yes, the first recordings confirm that the swallow is real and I'm not just losing my mind. It's a pillar of silence with a diameter of approximately three meters. Seems like the higher I go, the less I record. This might be a coincidence. Or it could be connected to the data loss that led me here."

"The pillar of silence! She is talking about the silence... Is she suggesting it's more than just an architectural quirk?"

Read the eighth entry.

"MARCH, '51: Some kind of young discomen have appeared next to the church. I've been trying to record the silence to find the epicentre, but now it turns out I've also been capturing the future of dance music, one neo-disco song over and over again..."

"Fortunately, the song is so monotonous I was able to devise an algorithm to factor it out. The other day one of the discomen came in. Before I could even say hello, she got scared and left. Good, I don't want anyone distracting me from my work."

That discoman? Must be Acele.

"She must be describing Acele."

"The girl on the ice? Sounds like her, yes."

Read the ninth entry.

"MARCH '51: I got a call from the repeater station. Someone has tried to access the radiocomputer in our old office in Martinaise. Can't do anything about it; the storekeeper still doesn't want to let me inside the building. Thinks I'm part of some kind of curse. How Martinaise of her."

Read the tenth entry.

"MARCH '51: A new 2m AUX cable, noodles, crackers, Ping-Ping energy drinks, water, TOOTHPASTE, gum, also some canned air..."

Your reading is interrupted by the sound of the church door opening.

A strange woman makes straight for the radiocomputer.

"Breaking into my radiocomputer again, I see." She glares at you as she holds down the OFF button for several seconds. The machine reboots.

Yes, you are breaking in. But not into her radiocomputer. You're a master circuit-bender.

"I do apologize for the intrusion, madam. We're with the RCM, you see."

"I can assure you I'm an expert circuit-bender. I'm not breaking into your computer, I'm using it to access Coalition military datalinks."

"There are no Coalition military datalinks." She barely looks up from the keyboard. "And even if there was, you couldn't access them over a civilian network."

"Yes, I could -- I'm a cybernetic god. I'm using the network to commandeer Coalition Warship Archer. I will turn its cannons against its masters."

"That's nonsense. You're just a police officer." She barely looks up from the keyboard. You hear the machine whir back to life.

"Now please, give me some room. I need two seconds to see that you haven't destroyed anything."

"We should talk to her," the lieutenant whispers, "after she has rebooted the machine."

"Okay, I'm actually trying to locate a suspect in a murder investigation. I thought they might be hiding here. I'm with the RCM, you see."

"No one's hiding here." She barely looks up from the keyboard. You hear the machine whir back to life.

"It's just me and my computer -- and it has been this way for weeks. Now please, give me some room. I need two seconds to see that you haven't destroyed anything."

"You're right, I'm just a drunk cop. I don't know how to do anything interesting with radiocomputers."

"No one asked you to do anything interesting with my radiocomputer." She barely looks up from the keyboard. You hear the machine whir back to life.

"I'm here on a side case, representing certain music venue organisers. I'm with the RCM, you see."