Conversation · Soona, the Programmer

Turn to face the apartments.

Beyond the unkempt backyard rises a monstrous assemblage of concrete, plaster, and corrugated sheet metal...

The voice again, more urgent now: 'Nay!'

Just a moment. That voice isn't human, and it's not saying 'Nay!' -- It's saying 'N-n-n-neigh!'

From behind you, a low, spectral voice whispers: 'Nay.'

Turn to face the roundabout.

You turn around. The morning sun is blinding. You bring your hand to your brow and a great shadow materialises before you. A towering beast, frozen in mid-air...

"The horseback monument."

"Come on, that's..." She was about to dismiss your latest idea out of hand, but something gives her pause.

"... not the worst idea..."

It may work, you think, but why do you feel like there may be a terrible cost?

"We'll need an adequate power supply, and a great quantity of cable. If we connect the cables to some of the stranded lorries, we could theoretically increase the antenna's wavelength exponentially..."

Whatever ambivalence she had about your project before, she's now fully engaged in solving this technical puzzle.

"So you're saying..."

"Quiet, I'm doing maths... Yes, assuming we can find just a few pieces of equipment..."

"It's completely ridiculous, but I believe we could transform the entire roundabout into one solid, fractal antenna."

A note of awe in her voice. She's shocked and pleased by her own audacity...

"We shall call it: The Herald of Destruction."

"What you choose to call it isn't my concern. I'm only here to tell you what's feasible or not from a technical viewpoint."

"I have plenty of cables and amplifiers on hand. The power supply I will secure on my own. All we require now is the radio transceiver itself."

"Where am I supposed to find a radio transceiver?"

"I cannot answer that for you, but I don't expect it to be that difficult. There's no shortage of radios around here."

"If you have reál to spare, you might even be able to buy one. But it doesn't really matter where it comes from, so long as it works."

"And before you ask: No, you can't have the radio from my Kineema."

"You know what, Kim? I'll find an even better radio on my own."

"I highly doubt that. When I crank the volume on my DynaWave, it's like you're in the front row at the National Concert Hall."

"On second thought, this is childish. I'm just going to look for a regular radio."

"That will be fine. As long as the radio is functional, that is what counts."

"I didn't know Speedfreaks FM had a concert series."

"Joke all you want, detective. Whatever radio you manage to scrounge up won't lay a finger on my set-up."

"Alright, Kim, challenge accepted."

"There is no need to go out of your way to find a top-shelf radio for this purpose. As long as it's functional, that is what counts."

Wasn't there a highly functional radio in that abandoned lorry by the roundabout?

"Do you think the pawnshop will have one?"

"Possibly. It's worth a look, at the least."

"Alright, I guess I need to find one of these transceivers then." (Conclude.)

"In the meantime, I will gather the rest of the materials. We will meet back here when you have it."

"Do radiocomputers have transceivers in them?"

"Certainly, though it requires a fair amount of technical finesse to remove them. Frankly, it's not worth the bother. Just find a regular radio."

"Can't we just use your radiocomputer?"

"Absolutely not. My Rehm Prefect is my livelihood. If something were to go wrong, it would be a disaster."

"I think I saw a radio in that office near the harbour..."

"That sounds like a perfectly adequate radio." She nods.

"A radio transceiver. Cool. I've got this. I've seen plenty of those lying around."

"Of course you have. They aren't exactly rare."

"About time, those other antennas were cramping my style."

"Your sense of style isn't my concern. I'm only here to tell you what's feasible or not from a technical viewpoint."

"That's... a very big antenna."

"Yes, very likely the largest private antenna in Revachol."

"As long as it gets the job done, I'm not interested in the details."

"Very well. I will get straight to the point, then." She nods, seeming to appreciate your cold practicality.

"Are you sure that's legal? I feel like I'm going to need to apologise to someone."

"If you would like to apologise, that is your business. I am only here to tell you what's feasible or not from a technical viewpoint."

Let her think.

"The dead king and his horse. It could work..."

Turn to face the bay.

Your eye follows the tiles west. You see a bench and a few twisted, pitiful trees. Then, just water...

Nope, nothing. The idea factory is closed until further notice.

The programmer gives you an impatient look before returning to her radiocomputer.

Your thinking about this has gotten way too rigid. Time to flip the whole antenna paradigm on its head.