Conversation · Stained Glass Window
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"Three Precincts were involved in the raid and people say Precinct 41 was one of them."
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"I'm sorry, I'm not saying you were..." There's a pause. "It was a clandestine operation. I don't know anything about it. Why it was conducted or who participated. I try not to pry into extra-district matters."
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A very, very skilled thespian would detect a touch of drama when he says he doesn't know why it was conducted...
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- "I'm sorry, I'm not saying you were..." There's a pause. "It was a clandestine operation. I don't know anything about it. Why it was conducted or who participated. I try not to pry into extra-district matters."
- "I am pretty sure it was a clandestine operation. I don't know anything more about it. Why it was conducted, or who participated... I try not to pry into extra-district matters."
"I am pretty sure it was a clandestine operation. I don't know anything more about it. Why it was conducted, or who participated... I try not to pry into extra-district matters."
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"Good luck. You will not get information on a confidential operation from your station secretary just by calling. If you really don't remember -- it might be better to keep this one forgotten."
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"I agree. It happened a while ago. It's unimportant to our business in Martinaise now."
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Cold air seeps in through the crack in the glass. The woman is keeping her colourful eye on both of you.
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"I have a theory, yes." There's a pause, then he continues: "There was a police raid a while back. I heard the place was shot to pieces."
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"The old woman in the village was being tactful with us when she didn't mention it. She has more respect for the RCM than many around here."
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"We should be respectful here, although the building appears to be deserted. I do not believe we'll find the instigator here. Something else, perhaps..." He looks at the machinery lying around.
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"We should be respectful here, although the building appears to be deserted. I do not believe we'll find anything connected to the lynching here. Something else, perhaps..." He looks at the machinery lying around.
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"Yes." He looks around. "I wasn't sure before, but this must be the Dolorian Church of Humanity in Martinaise -- it's called the Small Pinewood Church in some records..."
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Despite the damage you've done to yourself, the title appears lodged in your hippocampus. This is Her Innocence Dolores Dei -- the innocence of humanism, internationalism, and the welfare state -- perhaps the most famous human being ever to have lived.
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No amount of Commodore Red can wipe her sad smile from your brain-thing. It has survived the deluge and haunts you still. And will haunt you forever, as it haunts all men.
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But... she was not hell. She is the opposite of that, the wind of paradise, stripping away the covers from the hearts of men...
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There you stand, below her once more, with your hands on your side. Momentarily at a loss as to what to do with yourself.
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Three hundred years ago, in the wake of the discovery of this isola -- the Insulindian -- by explorers from the continent of Mundi. She is, among other things, the innocence of interisolary travel and the connected world.
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As did we all. The lands of Mesque and the Occident and even far-away Supramundi -- altogether twenty one of the forty Mondial nations of the time -- immediately accepted innocentic rule. Even before her crowning.
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In a city called Advesperascit, in Vesper-Messina, her homeland. The name of the city means 'Evening comes,' but it happened on a winter's morning with the canals frozen and slush falling out of the sky.
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She was dressed in a white and pearl dress on an emptied-out plaza, with the crowd far away. Already her Therriers -- the secret servicemen of the innocence -- were worried about an assassination attempt.
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- Yes. In a city called Advesperascit, in Vesper-Messina, her homeland. The name of the city means "Evening comes," but it happened on a winter's morning with the canals frozen and slush falling out of the sky.
- In a city called Advesperascit, in Vesper-Messina, her homeland. The name of the city means 'Evening comes,' but it happened on a winter's morning with the canals frozen and slush falling out of the sky.
Oh yes... She looked like humanity's young mother, a perfect mother. Insultingly beautiful. It was as if her face and shoulders and hands were covered in a soft down of under-feathers. You know this well -- very well.
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Midwinter snow was beating the cobblestones around her. A small attaché of officials stood by as her Therriers placed a white gold wreath on her head. The crowning was mostly witnessed by secret servicemen.
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- Oh yes... She looked like humanity's young mother, a perfect mother. Insultingly beautiful. It was as if her face and shoulders and hands were covered in a soft down of under-feathers. You know this well -- very well.
- Oh, she was insultingly beautiful. She was humanity's young mother, a perfect mother. It was as if her face and shoulders and hands were covered in a soft down of under-feathers. You know this well -- very well.
One of the men in this secret service killed her -- 22 years later. A young man who had come to suspect that Dolores Dei was not entirely human, but something else.
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Something that had walked in our midst, watching us stumble for hundreds, if not thousands of years, until it decided to interfere -- interfere in the course of our history. 'We were supposed to come up with this ourselves!' the man was reported to have screamed at the innocence...
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Dolores Dei was shot in the chest with a fowling piece, eight times. The man, thought to be insane, said he once touched her and her body had been unnaturally warm, like a furnace -- and that sometimes while on duty he observed her forgetting to breathe for over ten minutes...
This inhuman quality was witnessed by many others as well -- glowing lungs and all. It is commonly attributed to mass hysteria and religious psychology.
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Oh, she was insultingly beautiful. She was humanity's young mother, a perfect mother. It was as if her face and shoulders and hands were covered in a soft down of under-feathers. You know this well -- very well.
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Yes. In a city called Advesperascit, in Vesper-Messina, her homeland. The name of the city means "Evening comes," but it happened on a winter's morning with the canals frozen and slush falling out of the sky.
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Wait, what exactly is an innocence? I've read a book but it was fuzzy...
Wait, what exactly is an innocence? I've heard of the system...
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In a way. An innocence is elected to office by the Founding Party, a precedent that has taken place a mere six times in the entirety of History. The legal system of the Reál Belt is built from the ground up to accommodate innocentic rule, should it coincide with our time.
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An innocence is infallible. The decisions made by one are not decisions. They are inevitabilities -- what would have happened anyway, only accelerated, packed into decades instead of centuries. An Innocence is a continuous, compressed event, a sacred human being. It is an honour and a glory to live when one is in office.
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- More. An innocence is elected to office by the Founding Party, a precedent that has taken place a mere six times in the entirety of History. The legal system of the Reál Belt is built to accommodate innocentic rule, should it coincide with our time.
- In a way. An innocence is elected to office by the Founding Party, a precedent that has taken place a mere six times in the entirety of History. The legal system of the Reál Belt is built from the ground up to accommodate innocentic rule, should it coincide with our time.