Politics

(Point to yourself.) "I'm a moralist."

"I understand. Communists are natural cowards. Quantity over quality."

"I know what it looks like. But I have secret plans to turn the RCM into a Mazovian revolutionary unit."

"Honourable."

This is the Gloaming I've been waiting for. Ever since I woke up in the hotel room.

Slowly, with your breath held, you take two small steps toward the phasmid. The creature lets out a series of ultrasonic clicks that swarm around your head like swallows...

On the horizon. Pale fire. This thing we're both sensing is coming to an end.

"No, actually, wait! I need to see my list again, I'm sorry. Where's my list? Wait!"

"Let's try to return Revachol to the likeness of the holy sun in the sky -- but only twice. The third time, let's abandon it to debauched homo-sexuals!"

Smash into the door and shout: "Fuck the system!"

You smash into the wood and see a small crack appear on the door frame. It's going to take one more try to break through to the other side, but you've done it...

Ow, shoot! Whose moronic idea was it to just run through the door? Don't you know that things like that hurt?!

"Exactly like that. Because I think you're an enemy of traditional values forcing your filth on the innocent."

"That they are." The lieutenant looks at the spinners and sighs. "I was going to take them into evidence, but they weren't necessary for conviction. He never asked for them back."

"Sure! Forced radio. Can't tune out. You'd make a killing on ads!"

"Yeah, like that. Maybe it was part of your civic duty, you were just testing it out for the government."

"Yeah. Like a new way to equalize people, getting them all on the same station. A great tool for Communism."

Elsewhere in Revachol, the lieutenant has also just turned on the radio. In his privacy, he doesn't even try to stop himself from smiling.