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

"Well, you won't find any music venue organisers here." She barely looks up from the keyboard. You hear the machine whir back to life.

"I'm not just breaking in! I'm pursuing a mysterious lead, in search of my lost identity."

"You won't find any answers from here." She barely looks up from the keyboard. You hear the machine whir back to life.

"I'm looking for a suspect in a murder investigation. I thought they might be hiding here. I'm with the RCM, you see."

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

"Psst, someone's coming..."

You're so engrossed in your reading that you don't even notice the sound of the door opening...

"That's me. I was the one who broke into that radiocomputer! And the storekeeper must be Plaisance..."

"I knew it wasn't a good idea to meddle with that machine..."

No-no. It was a great idea. You're learning things. This is how you learn things about machines.

"But what could it be?" (Look at the water basins behind you.)

The lieutenant doesn't answer. He follows your gaze, studying the basins. The water shines in them. No ripples.

A shiver runs through you as you look to your left, toward the silence.

"Artists, programmers, Lexie -- who are all those people?"

"I think these people worked in the radiocomputer games business. The one we saw in the Doomed Commercial Area. They must be her former co-workers."

"Her friends, colleagues?" He shrugs. "She must be quite educated if she knew how to set up all this machinery."

"A data loss?"

"Seems like something to do with radiocomputers -- unfortunately, I don't know enough about them to understand what the author is saying."

"Something about the backup data getting destroyed... and how everyone thought it was the author's fault." He adjusts his glasses. "Let's just keep reading."

"Why would she need an antenna?"

"Why would anyone need any of this equipment here?" He steps on a wire running on the ground, inspecting it with his boot.

For setting up her radiocomputer.

"Wait, narcotics?" (Look around the derelict building.)

"I doubt that we can find any. It's just idle fishermen's gossip to scare away the kids." He looks at the stained glass window.

"Nothing spooky about this place either, it's just abandoned. And cold. And in an awful part of town..."

Then why doth the lieutenant protest against spending time here? So often?

Press PRINT.

The printer prints out a long text document with dated paragraphs. It looks a bit like someone's journal.

Nothing happens.

Press PLAY again.

The speaker comes to life, static seeps through the machine's planar magnetic driver. An old lady greets you, her voice sounds a hundred years old...

"Good morning, Fortress Accident on Saint-Brune, this is the East-Insulindian Repeater Station 1. Please repeat, is this the personal log?"

"Sorry, I forgot to look inside the core to check what filament is inside."

"Please end the call and do that."

"Yvonne, it's me again! How are you?"

"Good, thank you." It's not clear whether she recognizes your voice. "Please repeat, is this the personal log?"

"I looked inside the core, but the tape on the filament just said "LOG (FEB-MAR)"."

"Good. Please repeat the password."

"I don't know the password."

"Received. I will register this log-in attempt."

"Fortress Accident, is there anything else I can do for you today?"

That sounds bad -- a log-in attempt. Something a criminal would do.

"Is it my birthday?"

"Still no."

"No."

A hint system is not part of the protocol for repeater stations.

"A password? I'm really bad at passwords. Can you give me a hint?"

"This is the police. Please open this thing!"

The voice recites: "I am contractually obliged to protect the privacy of the filament holder Fortress Accident. Without filing a warrant with Lintel I cannot give you access to this filament."

"I'm afraid we're not doing that. Unless we want to wait for a month."

"Now, can you please repeat the password?" the voice in the machine asks again. She sounds cold in the damp air.

"After life death."

"Good, I've unlocked the filament. After ending the call please press PRINT to access the filament."

"Let's look around. There's no use trying to guess the answer."

"Maybe he knows something." The lieutenant nods toward Tiago.

Password. Of course it would have a password. That's why there's a human administrator involved.

You should ask her for a hint.

"Fortress Accident... like the one in the Doomed Commercial Area?"

"I have two machines registered to this company name in Martinaise -- one on Saint-Brune, the other on Rue de Saint-Ghislaine."

"Saint-Brune -- that's the church," the lieutenant gestures around him, "and Rue de Saint-Ghislaine, that's the Doomed Commercial Area."