Conversation · Elizabeth

"I have heard about your medical condition. People talk. And I have no patience for it. Or pity."

"Be straight with me, what kind of music do you listen to?"

She looks as if pondering whether to answer or not... but then shakes her head slightly.

"Anodic dance music, you wouldn't get it."

Not only do you get it -- you know it.

"Hold on, of course I get it. It's a progressive soundscape, mixing nomadic rhythms with pop melodies."

"Okay, you have a dictionary. That doesn't mean you get it..."

"Dance music -- basically disco? I know all about it."

"No," she steadies her breathing. "Not disco. Disco is undead."

"The hell it is."

"I guess it's fair to say you guys have it on life support."

"Okay, stick with your opinion."

"I will." It doesn't look like you changed her mind.

"What do you mean us guys?"

"Hjelmdallermen."

Hjelmdallermen is a reference to the Northern themed action-adventure series, Man From... Actually, this is less than helpful right now. I'll just get out of the way.

Sorry.

"Oh, you're a hjelmdaller-head?"

"No." It doesn't look like she's into popular adventure-fantasy.

"A lot of people out there appreciate a good disco breakdown."

"I. Don't. Care."

A left jab, right in the looker.

"You know, maybe you're right."

"Look, we're not discussing your taste in music anymore, officer. Do you have questions for my clients or not?"

"Okay, let's put on a new record." (Conclude.)

"Let's."

"You're right. I don't know anything about anything. What is anodic music?"

"It's beyond the horizon for you."

You will never be able to experience it the way she does. She's even a bit sad about it; then the feeling passes.

She means it's part of the future you won't experience.

What if I want to, it's in my mind for some reason...

There is nothing a determined man could not achieve.

Yeah, I don't care about that.

Sure, why be interested in the world around us. Get back to boring, brutal detective work.

Oh yeah, you get it.

"What if I want to talk to you, not Titus?"

"What you want is of no significance, officer. Don't test your authority -- in Martinaise you are no one."

I saw what you were thinking. You want to say 'what are you going to do to me?'. Don't. Just because it's in your head doesn't mean you have to say it.

You will not lose out on anything good by not saying it.

"Hey. Can I borrow your gardening gloves?"

"No."

"I have a cadaver situation. I would really appreciate it."

"My answer is no."

"C'mon Lizzie." The big man takes a sip of beer. "We're generous people here in Martinaise. With property."

Wow -- really? A political moment? Now?

"Fine." She hands you her pair of yellow gardening gloves.

"Thank you comrade. Property is theft."

"Vulgar idiot," she shakes her head.

Your understanding of the worker's struggle is about one century old, she's thinking.

"I didn't deserve this handout. You should've forced me to hustle harder."

"Don't thank her -- thank me."

Another day -- hustlin' and grindin' in the free world!

"Thank you."

"Don't thank her -- thank me."

"Yeah, don't you forget -- T did you a favour, popo."

"You shouldn't have assisted me like that. I am your enemy. Nature is struggle."

"You're right. I shouldn't have."

"Okay."

She doesn't say anything.

"I should talk to Titus then!" [Leave.]