Conversation · Lena, the Cryptozoologist's wife

She frowns, looking you over. "Surely things can't be that bad?"

You sense that she won't judge you, no matter what you say.

"I hope you're right. I hope it's not too bad..."

"You know where we are, right?"

"We're in the Whirling-in-Rags cafeteria."

"That's right, and where is the Whirling itself located?"

"In... Revachol?"

"Yes, indeed. We are in the fine city of Revachol."

"All I know is that Revachol used to be really cool in the Thirties."

"The New! Disco dancing! It seems like a lifetime ago..." Her eyes are filled with light reflected off those gilded years, when the city seemed full of possibility.

"Much has changed, but it is still the most beautiful city in the world, a rare jewel set in the sand between the pines. Everyone says so, even foreigners." There's a pause as she studies your expression. You must look quite lost.

"Speaking of history -- you know what year it is, yes?"

"It's a bad year in my late forties, or fifties? I don't even know how old I am."

"There, there. The year is '51, and spring has only just started. I'm sure there are better days ahead."

She looks flustered, her hands smoothing out the creases in her blanket even as she attempts to reassure you.

The lieutenant studies you, rubbing his chin.

I'm beginning to suspect that you might indeed be completely adrift in this reality, thinks the lieutenant. How can it be that bad? Never mind -- we're in this now.

Outside, spring rain seeps into the cracks in the walls and the cobblestone streets, and into grated storm drains. All the way down into the sewers... Above ground, the first May bells blossom.

"I can tell that this is taxing for you, so I'll just ask one more question. What regime are we living under? What mode of government?"

"Cop. We are living under the cop-regime."

"Actually..." She raises her finger. "We are not. You could say that about almost any other nation, but not Revachol. Try one more time, officer -- what mode of government?"

Damn it, I was really hoping it would be a Cop World. Okay, well, let's see...

"Our leaders are fierce warriors who traverse the plains on steeds."

"Oh... no, nothing like that, dear. Revachol is a Zone of Control, led by an alliance of foreign powers called the Coalition. We have almost no government of our own. And certainly not one who's horseback."

Oh no. We've arrived at some sort of weak world, where everyone's a nansy pansy...

"If there's no government, how come there are cops?"

"Oh dear..." She shakes her head, suddenly very worried. "And you were doing so well. There aren't really any cops in Revachol, not in the traditional sense. The status of law enforcement has been a complicated matter since the Revolution..."

"But we should stop for today, sweetie. You look like you need a break. Besides, I'm not the best person to explain the big things to anyone..."

She's scared now. She's realized you really are brain damaged.

"What is the Revolution you mentioned?"

"A defeat, I'm afraid. The people of this archipelago tried to build something new, something different. The rest of the world didn't like it, so they came and ended it. This was forty two years ago."

"What does that have to do with there not being any cops?"

"It has something to do with everything. I really don't know how to explain it better..."

I'm just a poor woman, she thinks. What do I know of these things. And how can I help you?

"Who could tell me more?" (Conclude.)

"Someone more educated in sweeping matters? Maybe you should ask..." She turns to the lieutenant.

"No." He looks away. "I'm not an encyclopedia. I won't be a guide either. I'm a police officer."

"Of course." She turns to you. "Then I don't know. Someone rich maybe? Wealthy people are educated. Though I don't know where you would find a wealthy person in Martinaise..."

"But thank you, sweetie. You did make me forget about my worries for a while." She smiles up at you, but concern is creeping back into her expression.

"Someone more educated in these things than me? Someone rich, maybe? Wealthy people are educated. Though I don't know where you would find a wealthy person in Martinaise..."

"Well... I'm not sure, detective. I'm sorry. Wealthy people tend to be educated, but you're not likely to find one of those in Martinaise..."

"So -- how did I do?"

"You were doing quite well up until the end there. It does look like you're having trouble remembering things. History and places. Remembering Reality, in a word. It's very odd..."

A sigh. The lieutenant buries his nose in his notebook.

"But -- maybe a fresh set of eyes is what the world needs? And -- while I'm no doctor -- such bouts of amnesia are often temporary. So I wouldn't worry too much."

She means this sincerely. Worrying won't do you any good.

"You didn't do very well, dear. It does look like you're having trouble remembering things. History and places. Remembering Reality, in a word. It's very odd..."

"Oh dear, this is troubling. You really ought to know that -- being one yourself. There aren't really any cops in Revachol, not in the traditional sense. The status of law enforcement has been a complicated matter since the Revolution..."

"I don't even know what to say. I'm so disappointed."

"It is quite disappointing, yes. A lot of people would like some form of representation. There's talk, but... for now, the RCM is all we've got."

"I'd like to think it's the dictatorship of the proletariat, but something tells me it's not."

"Oh sweetie..." she smiles a sad smile. "It's really not. There used to be people who thought that way -- other people, who wanted those things -- but... they all went extinct."

"Revachol is a Zone of Control, led by an alliance of foreign powers called the Coalition. We have almost no government of our own. And certainly no dictatorship of the proletariat."

But they still have cops...

"I believe Revachol is being managed by something called... the Coalition?"

"Precisely, sweetie! Revachol is what's called a Zone of Control, led by an alliance of foreign powers. We have almost no government of our own, sadly..."

"Radios are being used to control people's minds and distort our perception of reality, concealing our true masters: foreigners and women."

"Oh... no, nothing like that, dear. Revachol is a Zone of Control, led by an alliance of foreign powers called the Coalition. We have almost no government of our own. And certainly no matriarchy..."

She's trying to avoid the foreigners part. This is because she's a woman. She may be lying to you...

"Some kind of democracy maybe?"