A dangerous and unhinged Dummy has barricaded themselves in the Theatre. Thus far, no one has been capable of extracting the lunatic -peacefully or otherwise. Will you lend your talents to the task?
Level: 15
Start: Charmane Parris, Security, Spirit of Tianjin
Introduction
The grim and grey formality of the security building feels misplaced in the middle of Tianjin's eccentricity. You walk through reinforced gliding doors; a camera tracks you serenely from above, registers your facial features: cataloguing, compiling, cross-referencing.
The Tianjin Security Services (TSS) reception goes about its business of organizing the absurd. Law on a station that prides itself on unlimited freedom of experience is a tricky matter. You notice as visitors interact with holo-screens around the room. They tell the machine, somewhat forlorn, why they are here and what they want. On Tianjin, if you're at the TSS you're looking for work or went looking for trouble -and trouble found you. You notice as a complaint screen springs to life before a disheveled young woman.
Welcome!
Nothing happens on this station without the authorities knowing about it. Whether they care about what happens is another question altogether. Hundreds of monitors spew camera feeds along the office walls. Gruesome acts unfold on the screens. The office personnel file paperwork, chat and drink coffee. In the corner a man flirts with a woman, on the screen behind them three Dummies have just been disemboweled by a multi-headed chainsaw.
Sergeant Charmane Parris sits behind her desk, drawer open, picking at a box of bonbons. She flicks through her holo-screen and chuckles as a Dummy face plants into an empty pool from a twelve story building. His skull explodes like the proverbial watermelons of old Earth.
Charmane Parris: Good ol' Sal. Never can stick that landing.
The sergeant spots you and waves you over with a flailing arm and a warm smile. She's still laughing at Sal's missing head when you reach the desk.
Charmane Parris: Hey, weren't you the "clueless courier" from earlier? Yeah, that's you, I don't forget a face- even when it's plastered on the bottom of a pool.
Her own wit makes her chuckle. She opens another drawer and extracts a bag of synth-chips.
Charmane Parris: Any chance you looking for some work? Here, have a seat. Snack?
You decide to walk away from Sergeant Charmane Parris.
Me: Sorry, I'm kinda busy now.
Charmane Parris: Not to worry, I'll be here if you change your mind.
The Sergeant's breezy manner and oddly jovial attitude should put your mind at ease, but what's considered "work" on this station is often deadly and dangerous, not a priority at the moment. You exit Security and head out to the rest of Tianjin station.
Mission failure
You have failed the "Curtain Call" mission. You can retake this mission and try again.
You take the offered seat. The sergeant pops chips into her mouth. The words come out between crunches and munches.
Charmane Parris: I've got a Dummy. Well, hell -I've got hundreds of Dummies. I've got a Dummy problem at the Theater you might just be able to help me with.
She smiles.
Me: Dummy? What do you mean by that?
Charmane Parris: Doubling down on that "clueless" title aren't we? If you work for the Carnival, you are either an ‘Actor’ or a ‘Dummy’. Actors, wearing green collars, engage exclusively in the service of a single, pre-specified Patron – while red-collared Dummies have consented to be used by any Patron at any time. I have a problem with a Dummy in this case, one that I hope you can help with.
Me: Too risky, I'm not interested.
You decide to walk away from Sergeant Charmane Parris.
Charmane Parris: Not to worry, I'll be here if you change your mind.
The Sergeant's breezy manner and oddly jovial attitude should put your mind at ease, but what's considered "work" on this station is often deadly and dangerous, not a priority at the moment. You exit Security and head out to the rest of Tianjin station.
Mission failure
You have failed the "Curtain Call" mission. You can retake this mission and try again.
Me: Why me? I don't work here… barely know anyone on this station.
Charmane Parris: That's exactly the reason! We need an outsider, a stranger, someone new. My security forces can't get close enough to reason with the Dummy, and when they have, they've died!
She pops yet another bit of ration in her mouth, chewing loudly, before continuing.
Charmane Parris: Besides, I know you're trustworthy too. Remember I hooked you up to the digital polygraph, before taking your testimony. You didn't lie once throughout the whole thing, honest people are a rare breed on Tianjin.
The sergeant gives you a momentary look of concern, her smile fading just for an instance.
Charmane Parris: Do you have a clone handy? It's a dangerous place I'm sending you, as I said before, a few of my officers had embarrassing "rebirths" at the Cloning Facility after they failed. But I'm willing to put up five hundred credits if you can help out. What do you say?
Me: Isn't there anyone else? Don't you have a whole department of officers for this kind of thing?
Charmane Parris: Yes and no. I've got people for the everyday sort of thing. This is, how shall I put it? What's that word we never use around here?
Charmane Parris: Ah, yes. "Delicate."
She pops a chip into her mouth.
Charmane Parris: My security forces can't get close enough to this particular Dummy, Well, two did, but they died. None of the usual crew seem up to it for some reason. And my schedule this tenspan is chalk-full. That's why we need an outsider, a stranger, someone new. Snack?
She throws you a broad, toothy, chip-encrusted smile.
Charmane Parris: Besides, I know you're trustworthy. I've hooked you up to a digital polygraph. You didn't lie once throughout the whole thing. Honesty is scarce on Tianjin.
She raises an eyebrow. A look that might have passed for concern for the briefest of units flashes across her face.
Charmane Parris: Do you have a clone handy? A couple of my guys have already experienced embarrassing "rebirths" at the Cloning Facility. Might come in handy. Lots of sharp, pointy objects down in the Theater. There's five hundred credits at the end of it all… What do you say?
Me: Alright, I'm in. The pay is good. Worth the risk.
Charmane Parris: Phew, that's a relief! I was worried that I'd have to reach out to one of the station’s bodyguard firms upstairs. I hate those guys. That would have been humiliating, imagine if word of that came out? The shame…
She leans back in her chair, pondering the shame. Nothing like a good chair tilt in life. She pops the last of the chips down her gullet and leans in close.
Charmane Parris: Down to business. The Dungeon needs to reopen ASAP! We already have a new Dummy raring to go.
She chuckles.
Charmane Parris: What people won't do for fame and credits, huh? Come on. The patrons are getting antsy -they need their fix.
Me: What's the problem? What's going on at the Theater?
Charmane Parris: Not all the Theater -just the “Dungeon of Death”. A personal favorite of mine. It's an infamous obstacle course beneath the main stage. Only way to view it is through our extensive camera feeds.
She fiddles with the base of her holo-screen and swivels it around, giving you both a direct view.
Charmane Parris: Here. Feast your eyes. This is footage from a tenspan ago.
On the screen the feed of a Mall navigating chambers teeming with deadly traps and mechanisms moves at a rapid pace. Different cameras angles, edited to show his progress, showcase his immense strength and surprising agility as he overcomes lethal barriers with death-defying confidence.
Charmane Parris: That's Jon Caen, or Lazarus as he's come to be known here on Tianjin. He's the Dummy causing all these hold-ups. Patrons love him. Can't get enough of him. Some even make money on him they love him so much. Gambling on his success or failure through the Dungeon is the in thing. Snack?
Parris smiles. The smile, is it ironic or just jaded?
Charmane Parris: This is the video of his final run.
You see Lazarus up close approaching each camera feed, covering them up as he passes through the chambers. His scraggly beard is caked red with blood, his eyes worn and wild. The feed follows the giant from one darkened camera angle to another darkness swallow the whole. Nothing.
Charmane Parris: We have no eyes on him. He bypassed the main controls circuits -cut us off completely. Didn't know he had it in him. Thought all these "thespians" were all limelight and no lightbulb.
She guffaws at her own wordplay. Another drawer opens. A labyrinth of unending drawers this desk. Out comes a choco-synth-energy-bar.
Charmane Parris: I've sent my people. Tech crew. security. even another Dummy. Dead or scared off. Can't get good help these days.
Me: The "Dungeon"? I thought you said the problem was in the Theater?
Charmane Parris: Same thing really, the “Dungeon of Death” is part of the Theater entertainment. The infamous obstacle course is underneath the main stage, away from the viewing audience.
She fiddles with the base of her holo-screen and swivels it around, giving you both a direct view.
Charmane Parris: Here, have a look. This is footage from a tenspan ago.
On the screen is a fast moving feed of a Mall passing through chambers, all set with deadly traps and mechanics. Different cameras shots, edited to show his progress, detail his immense strength and surprising agility in overcoming every lethal barrier in his way.
Charmane Parris: That's Jon Caen, or Lazarus as he's known by here on Tianjin. The Dummy causing all this crap. He is, or was, quite a draw with the Patrons. They took to gambling on his success or failure through the Dungeon. Either way, he ended up dead after each session, a strange futility of it all.
The Sergeant cracks a slight smile at that thought, the irony amusing her.
Charmane Parris: Well, that was the case until the last time he performed at least. This is the video of his final run.
This time you see Lazarus up close, as he approaches each and every camera feed. He is covering them up as he passes through the chambers. His scraggly beard and worn eyes giving him a look of quiet desperation. The feed moves from one darkened camera angle to another until nothing is left.
Charmane Parris: We have no eyes on him. He even bypassed main controls, cut us off completely from that whole section. We sent in officers, technicians, even other Actors, but he's either killed or scared them all off.
Either choice continues:
Me: Have you tried speaking with him? Reasoning with the man might spare a life or two.
Parris has finished her choco-energy bar and looks up at you with distracted eyes. Another drawer opens.
Charmane Parris: Tried that. The audio has been disabled. Smog knows what he's fiddled with down there. Switched off the life support systems, but Lazarus has us cut off. The dungeon's main control panels are in the dungeon -brilliant, huh? We've done everything we can from up here. We tried to force him out with gas, but he just flipped the ventilators into reverse and pushed all that lovely gas right back at us. That stunt got the attention of the brass.
The Sergeant rubs her a forehead, sighing impatiently.
Charmane Parris: We need you to fix this. Get him to listen will you? Convince him to stand down. Negotiate, bring him bonbons, knock him out -whatever works. He doesn't know you, so there's that. I'm pretty sure he hates everyone he works with.
A Belter approaches the desk. Charmane jumps up to attention.
Me: What about life support? Can't you just switch it off or something?
Charmane Parris: Are you dim? I just told you, Lazarus has cut us off. We don't have access to the main system from here or from the Theater. We've done everything we can. Tried to reason with him, but the audio is disabled. We attempted to force him out with gas, but he has a mask and even worse, he just flipped the ventilators into reverse and pushed it all out into the other sections! Total nightmare.
The Sergeant rubs her a forehead, sighing impatiently.
Charmane Parris: This is where you come in. We need you to be the negotiator, and if that fails, knock him out. He doesn't know you, that gives you a slight edge over my officers at least. Get him to listen, convince him to stand down.
At that moment, an older Belter man approaches from behind Charmane and she jumps up to attention.
Me: Can't you gas him out? You know, force him out of the Dungeon somehow?
Parris has finished her choco-energy bar and looks up at you with distracted eyes. Another drawer opens.
Charmane Parris: Tried that. We tried to force him out with gas, but he just flipped the ventilators into reverse and pushed all that lovely gas right back at us. The audio has been disabled. Smog knows what he's fiddled with down there. Switched off the life support systems, but Lazarus has us cut off. The dungeon's main control panels are in the dungeon -brilliant, huh? We've done everything we can from up here. That stunt got the attention of the brass.
The Sergeant rubs her a forehead, sighing impatiently.
Charmane Parris: We need you to fix this. Get him to listen will you? Convince him to stand down. Negotiate, bring him bonbons, knock him out -whatever works. He doesn't know you, so there's that. I'm pretty sure he hates everyone he works with.
A Belter approaches the desk. Charmane jumps up to attention.
All choices continue:
Charmane Parris: Commander!
Arnaud Callon: At ease Sergeant.
He delivers the line with a look that silently asks, "But you're always at ease, aren't you?"
Arnaud Callon: What's the latest.
Parris relaxes, but stays standing.
Charmane Parris: Good news Commander! We've got a live one - I mean, we've got a volunteer. <name> here isn't intimately familiar with Lazarus and he's been apprised of the risks involved. I trust they can handle this problem for us.
They turn their heads and look down at you. Maybe you should of stood up. You feel like a pupil being chastised by your teacher and the principle. The Commander's eyes flicker as he accesses his CORETECHS. These guys must have all sorts of cool clearance.
If the man is impressed he doesn't show it -if he's unimpressed he's either too polite to divulge the fact, or perfectly content to send another sheep out for slaughter. He runs his wrinkled hands back across his head resting them on his shoulders and around his neck. He looks you in the eyes. The man's posture is odd, but then again, no stranger than this place.
Arnaud Callon: Right, so <name>, the Sergeant told you what is required.
There's a pause before the word "required". An old school emphasis, an implication adorns the word.
Arnaud Callon: At ease Sergeant. So what's the update on the Theater situation?
You see her relax slightly, but doesn't retake her seat.
Charmane Parris: Some good news Commander, we have a willing volunteer. They don't know the Dummy in question and are aware of the risks involved. I trust they can handle this problem for us.
They both turn their heads and look your way, with the Commander's eyes flickering like he's accessing his CORETECHS.
Arnaud Callon: Right, so <name>, has the Sergeant told you what you need to do?
Either choice continues:
Me: Convince Lazarus to stand down. Try and reason with…
He interrupts, having no patience to let you finish your response.
Arnaud Callon: No, look it's very simple. Get in, deal with the Dummy, report back. You do that, we'll have a fat reward for you when you return. All you have to do is remove our problem, is this understood?
Me: Yeah briefly. We just checked out the video stream…
Parris' commanding officer clears his throat. Your sentence dies there and then.
Arnaud Callon: Get in. Deal with Lazarus. Report back. You'll be compensated and have the thanks of the TSS upon your return. Remove this… problem as quickly and quietly as possible. Do we understand one another?
The question is not rhetorical. The man is awaiting an answer. For her part, Parris is desperate to go drawer diving for another treat.
Either choice continues:
Me: Not exactly. What's your definition of "remove"?
Your time is up. The commander looks at you with pragmatic feigned sympathy -the way a therapist looks at a patient whose session has come to an end.
Arnaud Callon: It's been a pleasure making your acquaintance. Sergeant -please assist <name> with his etymological queries. Good day.
Wow. The brass on Tiajin have a theatrical flair too. Must be contagious.
The man departs. Parris retrieves more goodies from the desk and heads towards the door. Munching on a handful of Space Goldfish, she turns to you and mumbles:
Me: Yes, I got it. Deal with the problem, understood.
Arnaud Callon: I doubt it, but we'll see. Anyways, I'm pressed for time, speak with the Sergeant on your way down to the Theater.
He turns his attention back to Charmane.
Arnaud Callon: Parris, make sure <name> is set, escort them to the scene and come back and see me in my office.
The Sergeant waits for Arnaud to leave, grabs a snack from her desk drawer and heads to the exit. She turns and looks your way.
Either choice continues:
Charmane Parris: You coming?
- Follow the Sergeant out the building.
Charmane Parris: Meet me at the Theater as soon as you can. I need to pick something up. Don't take too long. Snack?
She's off into the spinning crowds of Tianjin before you can answer.
Go to the Theater.
Next area: Decommissioned Area (The Theater), Spirit of Tianjin
- Approach Charmane Parris
The Theatre steps rise red and regal from the metallic pavement sheets of the street. The grand, gilded doors to the foyer yawn open and waiting. You walk inside. Plush red couches line the walls, punctuated at intervals by dwarf palm trees in lavishly ornamented ceramic pots. A giant candlelit chandelier, its flames twinkling in enigmatic constellations eyes you solemnly from high up on the cathedral ceiling. Paintings depicting actors on stage in all manner of exaggerated poses adorn the walls in golden rococo frames. A neon sign blinks above the entryway: "Closed for Renovations".
Parris is waiting for you on a couch. She pops out of her seat with a smile.
Charmane Parris: This way.
You enter the theatre. An elevated stage at the center of the great room embellished with gilded carvings of cornucopias, cherubs and crossed daggers stands proud and tall circled by rows of ascending seating. High above the stage, over the drawn satin curtains the twin masks of comedy and tragedy, Melpomene and Thalia survey the empty room.
A janitorial team is scrubbing something unsavory off of the main stage. A group of men and women donning red and green glowing collars are huddled near the backstage entrance. Dummies and Actors, no doubt awaiting the resumption of the festivities.
Charmane Parris: Let's get our stories straight. Shall we?
Me: Stories straight? How exactly. About "removal of problems" and all?
Me: The commander conveyed his point subtly enough I think. You want me to "remove the problem", right?
Either choice continues:
Parris sighs and shakes her head. This conversation must be serious. She's not snacking.
Charmane Parris: I think you may have misunderstood.
- Ask her to explain.
Me: How so?
Charmane Parris: Tianjin Security Services does not contract Citizens to kill on behalf of the Corporation. No killing. Am I clear?
Her eternal smile wanes, and her eyes lock on yours. The message is clear, and thankfully she doesn't require a verbal confirmation.
Charmane Parris: Good.
She reaches into a pocket nestled up against her service revolver and fishes out a pack Nebula Nuts.
Charmane Parris: Snack? You're not allergic are you? It's synthetic. It's all synthetic. Even the allergies.
She laughs and plops a handful into her maw.
Charmane Parris: Ok. Let's get down to it. I rushed to the hospital and grabbed one of these.
You have trouble imagining Sergeant Parris rushing. She hands you a small quick-release syringe.
Charmane Parris: It's a standard memory suppressor, but does a great job putting someone into a deep sleep. Try and bring him in peacefully. The less fuss the better. Sedate him, talk him down -do what you can. And tell him he doesn't work for the Corporation any longer. He's fired. Contract's been terminated -cancelled. Maybe that'll do the trick. No killing. Sure you don't want some Nebula Nuts? They put stars in your eyes…
Me: He's fired? Does he even know that?
Charmane Parris: No he doesn't. If he stood still long enough to listen he might. Tell him he didn't use his sick days either, so he lost those too. He's a big boy -he shouldn't take the news too hard.
Me: Sedate him using this pen?
She throws you a bemused look.
Charmane Parris: Yes. If you can't talk him out of the Dungeon then use the nano-injector to put his lights out. Then bring him upstairs. That'll be quite a lift, he's a big boy that one. And let him know he's been fired. Add a bit of insult to injury.
Either choice continues:
She tries giving you a sense of his size, extending her pudgy arm up high, then pushing her shoulders out. It looks silly, and realizing that, she laughs it off.
Charmane Parris: Come this way. I'll introduce you to the head janitor, he might have some insight into what goes on down there in the Dungeon.
A man in a green hazmat suit jumps down off the stage and walks toward you.
- Meet the head janitor.
The man removes his hazmat helmet and places it carefully down on the floor beside him. There is a meticulous nature to his movements -he is careful and studied. You notice that he is covered in what appears to be bits of brains and flecks of bone. His eyes are a vivid blue and they twinkle like the chandelier in the foyer. His hair is neatly parted down the middle given the impression of an overgrown schoolboy caught after a mud fight.
Charmane Parris: <name>, this is Frazer Dale. He's one of the station's longest-serving 'scene-scrubbers', Questions about the "Dungeon of Death"? He's your man. Snack?
Frazer Dale removes one long plastic glove and then the other. He places the pair lovingly, side by side next to the helmet. He reaches into the proffered bag of Nebula Nuts and surgically removes a singular cashew from the metallic foil. His fingers never touch the bag. He nods politely to the sergeant then turns to you with a smile.
Charmane Parris: Frazer, show <name> to the entrance of the Dungeon once you two are done chatting.
Frazer Dale: As you wish Sergeant Parris.
His voice is soothing; the only sound of comfort you've come across on Tianjin.
Charmane Parris: I'm headed back to the office. Good luck <name>.
She turns and leaves you with the head janitor.
Frazer Dale: It is a veritable pleasure. How may I be of assistance?
One of his deputies walks over with a pair of skulls interrupting the conversation before it's had a chance to begin. Frazer looks over the two specimens. One still has skin and hair grafted to the back of the nape; from the other a shattered spinal column dangles from the base like a boney tail.
Frazer Dale: I beg your pardon.
He inspects the skulls closely and then to his assistant:
Frazer Dale: Recycle the one that's been scalped. Refurbish the one with the intact brain and store it cryogenically please. The shooting gallery has asked our department to keep an eye out for fresh brains -and for eyes funnily enough. Those sharpshooters love a good eye.
Frazer Dale: My apologies. Where were we?
Me: 'Scene-scrubber'? Is that a part of the Carnival?
Frazer Dale: An essential part, but not the entertainment. My team and I clean up between the shows, a lot of strange things happen on stage -unsanitary things to say the least. The Actors and Dummies are always asked to do all sorts of crazy antics, usually ending up in plenty of blood and guts being spilled all over. A job that requires diligence and an attention to detail.
He turns to his crew. You note that he's been watching them as he speaks.
Frazer Dale: I beg your pardon. Manfred! Upstage. Next to the sub-woofers. You've missed some teeth. Theresa -second balcony left. Part of someone's scalp is dangling from the railing.
He turns his precise attention back to you.
Frazer Dale: Manfred specializes in mechanical cleansing: the blades, the traps, clogged flame-thrower nozzles. Theresa's talents lie in scene re-establishment. Getting the stage, the settings, the walls, the furniture back to their original condition. I have personally handled all of the scrubbing in the dungeon. I've carted off -in various states- Jon's body, the parts that remained that is, nearly five hundred times.
Me: I need some background on Lazarus. Do you know why he flipped out?
Frazer Dale: His stage name is Lazarus. The man is called Jon. Jon Caen, and he's one of the finest actor's you'll ever meet. Success ruined him -like it does to so many things it touches. We came to Tianjin together -that was forty cycles ago. Stars in our eyes <name>. Stars in our eyes. He had "it". When he's on stage you can't take your eyes off the man. The backstage chose me.
He pauses and takes a package of wipes out of a small, triangular pocket. Slowly, methodically he polishes the nails on his hands.
Frazer Dale: Violence finds everyone eventually. Faster still, here on Tianjin. The people, they tire quickly of words. It's the blood they want. They don't want tales of journeys -they crave the hunt. So, Jon went down into the bowels of the theatre. Down into the dungeon. He was a natural there too. Only man to finish the obstacle course three times. And he died well. Died better than anyone. He was theatrical through to the final act.
He dabs at a stubborn piece of crust on his right thumb with the wipe.
Frazer Dale: He performed in the Dungeon for over five cycles, and died in every single performance bar three. That's almost five hundred deaths. I'm a 'scene-scrubber' and the aftermath alone is hard to process. Some think the memory suppressants do the trick. They don't work for me. I don't think they ever worked for Jon.
Me: What can you tell me about the Dungeon? Any information would be great.
Frazer Dale: It was supposed to be just a small extension to the Theater show, but soon became the main attraction for many of the Patrons. When management saw the high demand, they started a small gambling service, taking bets on how far Lazarus would get. It became a frenzy of excitement.
He shows you a wall of to the side covered with monitors, rows of seats placed in front. A holo-banner above the screens functions like a ticker-tape, with the odds for various scenarios moving across.
Frazer Dale: As I'm the main 'scene-scrubber', I was the one to go down there each time Lazarus was killed. Clean up his body and the chambers before the next show. Obviously when the traps had been switched off, I don't have a death wish.
After you've seen all three branches:
Me: How about the traps? What can you tell me about them?
Frazer Dale: Not much, I've never been down there when they are active. In the early days, I used to clean up mainly in the initial chambers, but lately I had to go further inside, even up to the last room, the supposed "victory" hall. Ironic name as Lazarus never really won.
Frazer Dale: But I did watch on the monitors whenever I had a chance. He was really a sight to behold, avoiding the whirling blades and shooting spikes like an absolute star!
He lets out an excited sigh, his face lighting up like he was describing one of his favorite bands or some other innocent pastime.
Frazer Dale: Come to think of it, I did notice something not obvious from the video feed. Lazarus tended to go left through all the early chambers. Only near the end, the penultimate room, did he change up and take the right sided exit. The weird room, with the lettered floor tiles and ropes dangling down. You can't miss it. The cameras don't show the choices, I can tell as I was cleaning it up after.
Frazer Dale: Any other questions?
Me: What happened after Lazarus' final show? Sergeant Parris said he killed a few guards?
The man takes a file from his jacket pocket and begins to file his nails.
Frazer Dale: Depends what you mean by "killed" I suppose.
Is everyone on this station a stickler for definitions?
Frazer Dale: T'was the dungeon that killed Allan and Sellars. Jon chose not to help them. That might make him responsible, but hardly culpable. TSS should have known better.
He returns the file to his pocket.
Frazer Dale: After the guards they sent one of the Dummies, but she wasn't able to get very far. Lazarus threatened her and scared her back up here. We haven't been able to go down since then.
After you've seen both branches:
- Inform Frazer you're ready to go to the Dungeon.
- Look further into this. Find the Dummy that went down to the Dungeon.
Me: Who's the Dummy they sent down? Maybe I should speak with her.
Frazer Dale: Talisa. She's over there. In the corner with the Actors. She's the one wearing the red collar.
He indicates the group with his eyes.
Frazer Dale: Let me show you the entrance to the Dungeon before we part ways.
You follow Frazer to a dark archway with a set of steps leading down, away from the theatre. A scarlet neon sign reads, "Dungeon of Death" with a smaller, flashing amber neon beneath it flashing, "WARNING: NOT SAFE FOR PATRONS".
Frazer Dale: Keep your head on. Literally and figuratively. Good bye.
He departs in his unique and careful manner, bile-stained jumpsuit and bloodied boots.
Me: No, all done. Can you show me the entrance?
Frazer Dale: Sure thing. It's this way.
You pass by the group you saw earlier, all having an intense, but quiet conversation amongst themselves.
Frazer Dale: That's Talisa, the one with the red collar. She's the Dummy they sent to the Dungeon. Looks like she's a little shocked.
You follow Frazer to the back of the circular room and see a dark archway with a set of steps leading down. Above it, you see a scarlet neon sign reading "Dungeon of Death" with a smaller, flashing amber message stating, "WARNING: NOT SAFE FOR PATRONS".
Frazer Dale: Well here we are. Give me a head up when you're done, so I can clean up.
Me: Thanks Frazer.
Either choice continues:
The Actors have been waiting for an audience. You'll have to do. Talisa walks over to you as you approach them.
Talisa Banks: I was wondering when someone would get around to questioning me.
Me: Hi Talisa, I'm <name>. I'm here at the bequest of TSS.
At the bequest of? You're beginning to sound like these thespians.
Talisa Banks: Makes sense they'd bring in an outsider. Lazarus isn't too keen on anyone from around here. Always kept to himself.
Me: No one has questioned you? No one from TSS?
Talisa Banks: Nah, they were too busy scrambling around once two of their own were killed. Makes sense they bring in an outsider. Lazarus isn't too keen on anyone from around here.
Either choice continues:
Me: Do you know Lazarus well? Any information you can share might help me deal with him?
Talisa Banks: Sorry, I don't know him at all. He always kept to himself. I only got to see him when he was starting a new shift down at the Dungeon, and even then it was just a polite greeting and nothing more.
She shrugs apologetically.
Talisa Banks: I'm not surprised he wasn't very social. I heard from Frazer that the memory suppressors never worked on him. Imagine reliving all of that horror, every single day, it would turn anyone crazy.
Me: Frazer told me you went down to the Dungeon. Can you tell me what happened?
Talisa Banks: Yeah they sent me down after the officers didn't make it. Only managed to get in the first chamber, that's where Lazarus scared the crap out of me. I saw the two dead bodies and he said I would be next if I didn't turn back.
She takes a deep breath, as if the memory of that first chamber was horrific.
Talisa Banks: Even though I'm a Dummy, I've never seen this kind of thing. I'm purely a different type of entertainment, if you get what I mean. I'm used to some rough stuff, but death is where I draw the line.
She shakes her head, obviously upset by the whole ordeal.
Talisa Banks: I think all he wanted to do was scare me, but when a couple of sharp bolts nearly took my head off, I just screamed and ran back up here.
After you've seen both branches:
- "Anything else you can think of?"
Me: Anything else you can think of? Maybe someone who knows Lazarus or what he's going through?
She pauses, pondering a thought.
Talisa Banks: I've heard of a guy, another Dummy, who's been here even longer than Lazarus, and died a lot more times. If anyone can help figure out the suppressor question, it would be him. If you have time, I can tell you where to find him.
You nod for her to continue.
Talisa Banks: He goes by the name Lab Scum, I think even he's forgotten his real name by now. You can find him in The Old Labs, usually around the abandoned transport hub. You can't miss it, look for the large radar antenna. But be careful! He's very popular with some of the Patrons, they're always looking for a fight with the notorious ruins rat.
Me: Thanks Talisa.
You decide to deal with Lazarus right now, no time to waste. You walk across the room, back to the Dungeon of Death entrance that Frazer showed you earlier.
You decide to follow up with Talisa's advice and go speak with the Dummy at The Old Labs.
You head out of the Theater, passing the guards stationed outside.
Go to the Ruins.
Next area: Ruins, Spirit of Tianjin
- Find the Dummy called Lab Scum.
The ruins: a small, unruly playground in a great and grotesque circus. The old station used this portion of the asteroid to study and learn, built and maintained laboratories renowned throughout the system. Now the landscape, dotted with scientific relics, is home to battles and debasement.
You spot see groups of Patrons dueling with Dummies' hired to lose a duel, to take a fall, to let their betters win.
A gigantic antenna in the distance points upright in the madness, like a long finger pointed skywards. You are near.
- Head towards the antenna.
You plot a course to the antenna, regularly interrupted by Patrons believing you to be a pawn in their perverted games. You show them that you're not wearing a collar and they all, begrudgingly leave you be.
You spot a man, his neck collar pulsing red beneath his black trench coat. He sees you and ducks out of sight.
You run up to where you last saw him. He is nowhere to be seen. You walk around the building, searching for any clues as to where he went.
From above you hear a sound. You look up. Lab Scum has jumped off a low rooftop and is bearing down on you -a spiked club in his hands!
Failure
You stumble and trip in your attempt to shift out of the way. He is still coming at you! Try again.
Success
You see his movement and judge where to move to avoid being struck. You roll to the side and his swing moves harmlessly into the space you once were standing in.
He seems surprised by your actions, but raises the club for another attack.
Success
You move up close to him and grab the weapon by the hilt, breaking his swing. You struggle. He wrests the club away from you and prepares to attack.
Either success continues:
Me: Wait! I'm not part of the Carnival!
The man's mood changes as though a switch had been flipped. Like a man dropping his work the second he hears the lunch bell, he lets the club head fall to the ground, still gripping onto the handle.
Lab Scum: Why didn't you say so? I could have killed you. Do you have any idea how much paperwork an unsanctioned kill requires?
- "I didn't get a chance!
Me: I didn't get a chance! You just attacked me without warning.
Lab Scum: Fair point, but considering the number of people out here hunting, you can't blame a guy for resorting to instinct. Wave a white flag next time or you'll be carried out in a bodybag.
Lab Scum hooks the club onto his belt. He turns over a bullet-ridden office couch and plops himself down on it and opens a rations pack. What is it with this station and the incessant snacking?
Lab Scum: Right. You've got my attention, if you're not part of the Carnival, what are you doing here? Sightseeing?
- "I'm looking to help another Dummy."
- "Are you the one they call Lab Scum?"
Either choice continues:
Me: I'm looking to help another Dummy. I have some questions for a man called Lab Scum, is that you?
Lab Scum: Well, that depends.
Looks as though your words may have caused offense. You look at the man, then down at his club.
Lab Scum: We prefer "Immersive Performers" and "Lab Scum" is what TSS has on file. "Lab Scum" is who the patrons hunt. My name Aldo. Aldo Panta. Now. What can I do for you?
Me: Talisa sent me to find you. She said you've died countless times, I wanted to ask you about that.
Lab Scum: Another fan I've never met. It's not countless, but it's a lot. One thousand three hundred and forty seven to be precise.
His black eyes beam with an odd mix of pride and sadness.
Me: I'm trying to help a Dum…. an Immersive Performer named Lazarus. Do you know him? He's having problems with his memory suppressors. They don't appear to work on him.
Lab Scum: That's not the only problem poor Jon is having. The way I hear it he's never going to beat my record now. Nano-injections only work for a limited time. The effect wares off after ten uses. It's been documented by trials on Orwell. Not that those dipshits in security would ever concede the fact. All those nano-injectors are good for is a night's sleep. I've got a fix though.
He points to a small device with blinking with lights lodged behind his ear.
Lab Scum: Neural-blocker baby. Top of the line. Experimental. All the people I know who are into dying are dying for it.
His laugh comes out sounding like the sputtering engine on its last piston. His dark, beady eyes squint as he laughs.
Me: How does it work? Does it require surgery?
Lab Scum: Yeah -of the self administered sort. BeDyne scientists developed it on Orwell. Originally designed with therapeutic applications in mind. Tianjin is one giant testing ground for studies conducted on humans for these tech corps. There are only a couple of these babies on station. Tell Jon to come and see me. I'll hook him up with one. Tell him Aldo never forgets a favor -memory suppressants or otherwise. Connects straight to your CORETECHS allowing you to "block" certain experiences.
Me: New tech? Looks advanced, who made it?
Lab Scum: BeDyne scientists developed it on Orwell. Originally designed with therapeutic applications in mind. Tianjin is one giant testing ground for studies conducted on humans for these tech corps. There are only a couple of these babies on station. Tell Jon to come and see me. I'll hook him up with one. Tell him Aldo never forgets a favor -memory suppressants or otherwise. Connects straight to your CORETECHS allowing you to "block" certain experiences.
Either choice continues:
He points to his skull with a scrawny index finger.
Lab Scum: Over two hundred deaths clocked with this baby and I don't remember a damned thing.
- Leave the Old Labs.
You thank Aldo for all of his help.
Lab Scum: Yeah, no problem at all. Send Jon my love. Kill him for me will you? He needs all the help he can get if he's going to break my record.
The man laughs. You can hear his cackle even as the antenna fades from view.
You make your way out this desolate land, back into the far more organized misery and debauchery of Tianjin proper.
Return to the Theater.
Next area: Decommissioned Area (The Theater), Spirit of Tianjin
You pass the guards by the door and enter the Theater. Without pausing for conversation, you walk across the room, back to the Dungeon of Death entrance that Frazer showed you earlier.
All paths continue:
You descend into the darkness, step by step, reaching a long corridor. The only light source is coming from the other end. A doorway, bordered by a red pulsing glow, giving an eerie warning to those that approach.
As you get closer, the door slides open loudly, the noise echoing down the passageway behind you. Flashing white lights can be seen from within, but little can be made out of the room without walking in.
Enter the Dungeon of Death.
- Enter the first chamber.
You step in and have a look around. The source of the flashes becomes apparent, looks like someone has smashed through most of the overhead fixtures. The few that remain are glitching on and off, allowing for small glimpses of your surroundings.
The walls extend outwards, giving the chamber a triangular shape. On the back wall you can make out two open doors on either side, slightly obscured by piles of debris. All across the floor you see blood spatter leading away. Following it, you spot two sets of feet, the rest of the bodies hidden by some scrap metal.
On closer analysis, you see thin grooves all along the surfaces, possibly being the cause of the officer death. The blood patterns seem to move away from the grooves, something sharp must be released from them.
You see the grooves on the floor and you tiptoe across, quickly enough to just avoid the spinning discs that jump out of the floor.
Moving forward, you hear the click of a mechanism being triggered. Acting swiftly, you jump and roll away. A series of bolts imbed themselves on the wall, narrowly missing you. That was a close call.
Either success continues:
You are now in between the two large piles of debris. The ground is wet with blood, but you see no openings. Above you there's a dark large gap in the ceiling and you slide across, getting as low as possible. An axe-head swings out, swishing through the air where you used to be standing. You have made it to the back wall.
You look both ways along the back wall. Towards the right, you see the two bodies of the dead officers, half covered in broken bits of the ceiling. You head towards the open doorway on your left.
By the door, you see a control panel with it's screen showing a red ACTIVE message. Right below it, there's a switch labelled INERT. You press down and the panel turns green as you hear the mechanical traps powering down. This will come in handy on your return.
- Walk into the second chamber.
You enter and look around. Like the previous room, it seems that Lazarus has taken out the main lighting, leaving only a few yellow neon bulbs still working. Their glow is weak, leaving long dark shadows across the floor, melting into the darkness in the corners. On the back wall, you see two doors again, one on either side.
While you see no grooves or openings to hide deadly machinations, this room does have more obvious ways to hurt you. The walls on both sides are lined with spikes, sharp elongated spikes. After a few moments, you see different parts of the wall spring forward, slamming into the other end.
Upon closer inspection, you notice that there are small sections where you could carefully balance between the thrusts of the jutting walls, though you would have to stay perfectly still to avoid getting hit. The launching walls seem to behave with a specific timing.
You spend a few minutes staring at the room. Every few moments, different parts of the walls, some closer, some further away, spring forward and crash into the other side. Almost instantly, they are drawn back, awaiting their next foray.
It takes time, but you slowly figure out that each section is on a different speed. If your calculations are correct, within a few moments, all parts of the wall will be perfectly timed for a brisk and direct jog across the entire room.
Here it comes, nearly there… Now! You start jogging and pass the first part. As soon as you clear it, it slams behind you, scaring you into a quicker pace. Speeding through the second section, you have to slow down a bit, and once the final part has sprung back from a slam, you run through to the end, clearing the room.
Patiently pass:
(Stamina check?)
Either success continues:
As with before, you see by the door a control panel with it's red screen stating ACTIVE. You press down on the INERT switch and the panel turns green as you hear the walls behind you powering down.
You glance inside the next room and see ropes dangling down from the ceiling. This must be the penultimate room that Frazer mentioned.
- Step inside the third chamber.
As you enter this weird room, you can clearly see the lettered floor tiles and sets of thick ropes hanging down from the ceiling. The floor itself seems to be illuminated, with each letter glowing as if it is intensely heated up, giving an ominous feel to the entire place.
You check out the chamber, starting from the back. Similar to the other rooms you passed through, you spot two open doors on the back wall. No light is emanating from there, just darkness. From the ceiling are several cords with bulging knots spaced along their length. On the ground, you see the large tiles, all with blazoned letters. You count them, a grid of six by six floor panels, leading all the way to the back.
You look around by your feet and it's clear of any debris or scrap. You walk back to the previous room and find a broken piece of ceiling panel and drag it to the third chamber. Picking it up, you launch it forward. It lands on two tiles on the third row, a C that doesn't alter upon impact, and a P. Almost instantly, the P tile collapses, taking the scrap piece with it, and a blazing inferno, somewhat like a solar flare, shoots out and continues spouting.
Figure out:
(Intelligence check)
You stare at the collapsed tile, previously a P, with the red glow lighting up the third row and surrounding space. Weirdly, it looks very similar to blinding flares from UV Ceti nearby. By your feet, you spot a U and amongst the second row a V, close enough to the C that you know is secure.
Taking a small step of faith, you place your foot on the U tile. Slowly distributing your weight, you shift more and more onto it. It doesn't collapse! You move onto the V tile, using the same cautious approach.
Eventually, moving very slowly, you go through the six letters spelling out UV Ceti and make it across to the other side of the chamber. You stare back and wonder how many times Lazarus fell into the fiery depths below.
Either success continues:
This time, you go straight to the control panel and switch off the traps. The blazing glow from the collapsed tile fades out as the mechanism powering it shuts down.
As you peek into the next room, you catch a glimpse of a faint light at the very end.
- Enter the last chamber.
You step inside and see a very strange layout. You are on a raised platform on one end of a tight passageway. There's a dim light at a distance on the other side, but too faint for you to make out any details. You take a step forward to get a better look and you hear a loud click.
Fearing the worst, you raise your arms to protect your head. Nothing happens. You look around and see that a holo-screen is being projected in the air in front of you with an instructional video of this chamber. The simple animation is on a loop, showing the path to get through.
It begins with a view of the chamber, disclosing the dimensions of the narrow corridor. High jagged walls on either side, with the floor replaced by a sludge of sorts. While not deep, it goes on to show that the walls start to move closer to each other, pushing the liquid up. The animation ends with the participant either persevering through the pool or climbing the walls, both need to be done before the passageway narrows to dangerous, and probably deadly, levels.
Before starting the loop again, the video indicates that the walls will start to narrow as soon as one has left the platform fully.
- Take a step forward.
You move towards the end of the platform. As you do, the holo-screen disappears and spot-lights from the high roof start beaming down. As each light turns on, more of the passageway becomes visible. Looking down, you see the black sludge, still for the moment. To the sides and above are high walls, with what looks like plenty of hand and foot holds to latch on to.
The beams continue to awaken one by one. At the end of the narrow hall, the light shines on an elevated platform with a large open archway behind it. You catch sight of a huge bearded man who was hiding in the darkness, startled by the sudden eruption of light around him.
Jon Lazarus Caen: What do you want?! Leave me alone!
Me: Wait!
Too late, he runs off through the archway. You're not going to be able to reason with him from here, you have to get across.
Analyzing the wall in depth, you see a line of footholds and hand grips that can help you traverse over the top. You jump up and start nimbly climbing sideways. The walls begin to close in almost immediately, but at a slow pace.
You move across slowly, climbing horizontally is not as quick as vertical movement. You need to pick up some speed to get to the other side before it's too late. You start to scramble, seeing how the walls are getting closer and closer.
You sense an opportunity for a quick burst. The other wall is quite near now, and you jump off using your deft skills to "pin-ball" from one wall to the other, springing forward, covering the last few meters. You land on the platform just in time, as the walls behind close off.
Either success continues:
- Approach the archway.
To the side of the open arch, you spot another one of those control panels. You slam down on the green button and hear a reassuring "ting" sound.
The walls behind you start to move outwards, opening up the passageway, with dark liquid dripping back down to the pool below. Once all are in place, a loud mechanical noise grabs your attention, and you see a bridge extending from your platform to the other side.
Looking at the archway, you notice a small sign above it stating "Victory Chamber". A quick glimpse inside doesn't show any danger or traps, but no sign of Lazarus either.
Go through the archway.
- Explore the "Victory Chamber".
You walk into a circular room and at the center is a pedestal with a large red switch on it. A holo-banner floating above is glitching, as if someone has tried to break it. Flashes of "VICTORY!!!" come in and out, and upon closer inspection, the pedestal itself seems to be damaged.
The stage is empty. The Victory neon claps silently in red above it. The voice that breaks the silence is deep and booming; the words are delivered, not spoken.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Congratulations. Take a bow.
The giant is obscured in shadow, but something tells you he’s smiling.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I’m afraid I’m the only audience you’ll have. And, you’ll forgive my theatrical flair I’m certain -speaking of audiences- if you’re here to see me, I’m not granting any. Skedaddle left, left, right. Someone’s been fed their lines…
Me: My name is <name>. I'm just here to talk, nothing else.
Jon Lazarus Caen: We're all just here to talk <name> -most of us have nothing to say is the problem. Look at this stage. This stage spells triumph -literally spells out "victory" in flashing lights, but does it say anything? No. The true horrors are always buried behind the words. The meaning is always obfuscated by the conversation. You know what really says something?
The question is rhetorical. It is not surprising. Everything is encapsulated in this man. He is the company and the audience combined. A monologuing mirror. You don't feel the need to answer, and in any event he continues uninterrupted.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Actions. Actions speak. You didn't talk your way through the dungeon, so again -congrats. What do you want to talk about?
Me:
Either choice continues:
Me: What happened to the officers sent to get you? How did they die?
The mountain chuckles.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Not well. I could tell it was their first time.
His eyes glaze over, but not with tears of sadness. A nostalgia has inhabited them. He smiles a long, large, melancholy smile.
Silence.
Me: To put it bluntly: you're fired.
The giant steps forward. His stature is impressive, his eyes are hungry, fierce. He begins to laugh and the bellowing echoes through the death chambers and the shattered sets.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Fired? Let go? Dismissed?
The words come out staccato -rehearsed.
Jon Lazarus Caen: No! Better yet -terminated! Yes. Have I been terminated <name>? Are they trying to do with words what they've not managed to do with their actions?
The deep, angered, pained laugh again -a spear thrust deep and hard into the heart of the conversation. Conversation … as much as a conversation as this can be.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I've been terminated many times <name>, but never with a word.
He comes close now; stoops before you. Brings his wild, mad eyes close to your face. Flecks of dried blood trim the contours of his beard.
Jon Lazarus Caen: The first time. They say you always remember your first time. Your first kiss, your first born, your first love. You also remember your first death. Nothing suppresses that. What do you remember of a kiss? The color of the lips, the lines of the face, the feel of their flesh? No!
The "No!" booms through the room. Punctuates the moment.
Jon Lazarus Caen: It's the feeling you remember. The trepidation. The excitement. The realization that it is happening and that you are witness to it. Death is like that. Drowning is like that. A fight sweeps over you. A disbelief. It's exciting it is. The urge to survive. The need to fight. It's not the dark water you remember, but the realization. The realization that there's nothing you can do. That your lungs will soon give out. That all the gasping won't bring air. Then the fear takes you -and not by the hand. There is nothing noble or distinguished in being terminated. You panic and scream -you plead. Death is nothing. It's the being terminated that debases, that shows who we are. It's all in the how -and no one gets it right the first time around.
Silence.
After you've seen both branches:
Me: Why are you still down here Lazarus.
His eyes, great and wet begin speaking before his words have a chance to embarrass themselves. What chance have words against a look searching far into the past?
Jon Lazarus Caen: My name is Jon. They made me a character. They took away my dimension. They cut out my words with their knives and sentenced my sentences to the bottom of their spiked traps. They made me. They made me Lazarus. My adoring public. What are words pitted against blood? No one wanted Jon -they wanted Jon reborn. The wanted Jon unending. They wanted the phoenix drenched in blood, risen not from ashes, but from a corpse -a corpse still warm.
He pauses to let the lines take effect. He is being interviewed. He is on stage.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I'm still here because of them. They're all liars. Anyone who tells you they don't dream of the applause. Once you've had it, it's like -it's like blood in the water. Like your first taste of death. You want it again. You want it more. I wanted their adulation and needed it. They wanted my blood, my feats, my glory -and they lived their miserable, meek lives through me. It became, this cycle of consumption as twisted and maligned as the gauntlet itself.
He pauses again, but this time for reflection.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Until we were full and bloated, and could take no more. The endless death became empty, their endless applause -always empty- became more vacant still. When you die so often <name>, is it not understandable to want to gift Death to others?
Silence.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I'm here because dying is all I know. It has, oddly, not taught me how to live. I'm here, because deep down, I yearn for the only life I know: the applause of Death. To sit eternally atop this throne of the undying.
The line between madness and wisdom is blurred by his words.
Silence.
Lazarus walks to a throne, obscured upstage by debris and throws himself into the great chair. Palm outstretched he indicates a small stool nearby. You join him.
Jon Lazarus Caen: They used to conduct interviews here. The victors would sit in this thrown and the interviewer got that stool. That was cycles ago when someone -some no one- bored in a board room thought it would be swell to market this obstacle course of misery.
He grabs a bottle from the darkness.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Empty. It's all empty.
The man is a pure thespian. The melodrama is exquisite. He's not wrong though, is he? It is all empty. You look at Jon.
Me: How many times have you died?
Jon Lazarus Caen: I could be theatrical, and tell you I died countless times. That would be untrue. I've been stabbed, garroted, incinerated, bludgeoned, cut, sliced, quartered, hung, buried -my least favorite by the way. I've had my throat cut, my eyes gouged out -that's an entirely different darkness than when you close your eyes. Death is not like sleep. People think that -they're nothing alike. Dying is not sleeping. Having no eyes is not the same as not seeing. My heart has been pierced -figuratively and literally- the former hurts more.
He laughs and the heavy note shakes an instrument of death down in the gauntlet and dies.
Jon Lazarus Caen: My legs have been severed at the knees. Explosions have taken my arms. I've bled out. I've died of shock. I've had my brain crushed by a boulder. You know, for a while there, I even kept some of my old bodies. Had them stuffed in their final pose. Good old Frazer, always there to help. We were going to have a show. The Face of Death….
He pauses. His words wait.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Six hundred and ninety-eight times. Never been shot. Believe that?
The deep laugh again echoes in the deep.
Jon Lazarus Caen: The one death so many know about, I've never tried. Suppose it's a little too mundane. Not worth a curtain call is it? A bullet between the eyes.
Silence.
Me: Now what?
The giant moves away from you. Turns and contemplates your face the way one might an abstract work of art.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I want to be dethroned. I want to be upstaged. I want this chair of misery to melt -I want this stage to crumble. This place needs to be destroyed! It's pure torture -nothing but hurt and pain. I'm done with being dumb.
Me: This place is a menace.
He smiles at the recognition. You look him in the eyes.
Jon Lazarus Caen: So, you've been granted an audience. Now what?
Me:
Either choice continues:
- Tell him Security Services sent you.
Me: TSS hired me. They want this resolved.
He man seems to grow. You notice his square shoulders straighten.
Jon Lazarus Caen: You mean they want me "resolved".
- Convince Lazarus for a peaceful return to TSS.
- Help Lazarus. Tell him to escape.
- Use the nano-injector on Lazarus.
Words hold power too. It's not only actions that change the world.
Me: You don't work for Tianjin anymore. You don't need to do this any longer. Come upstairs peacefully, I'll take you in myself. You can step outside yourself. Figuratively and literally.
He smiles. A great chuckle escapes his lungs.
Jon Lazarus Caen: It's another good line. You should have been an actor. Alright. I'll trust you. But I don't trust the guards up there.
- Suggest putting him to sleep.
Me: Why don't I sedate you? Even hired goons take no pleasure in inflicting pain on someone who's out.
The towering man catches your eye, wonders if he should trust you.
Jon Lazarus Caen: To trust someone when awake <name> is one thing. It's an entirely different thing to do so asleep.
- Give Lazarus the nano-injector
You hand him the device.
Me: Its a nano-injector with a memory suppressor inside. It'll put you out.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I know what it is. I'm as familiar with this little needle as I am with the limelight and the blood.
Let's get through the dungeon first. I'd hate to have you drag me through that labyrinth. We'd both show up looking like we'd been through hell and back. He lets out another booming laugh.
You follow Lazarus back through the dungeon. He makes navigating the silent, death-strewn obstacle look like a walk in the park.
Jon Lazarus Caen: That set of spinning blades right there.
He points to a serrated, circular blade rising out of the floor like a shark fin. You eye the piece. It is sharp to the eye.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Cut my foot in half once and severed every toe on both feet another time. There's something about the feet. I think I'd rather be disemboweled again than have that little bastard slice me again. They're all asleep now though. Ever notice how sleep, only sleep, takes away both fear and pain? Nothing is gruesome asleep. Nothing except what goes on behind the eyes that is.
What a strange tour this is? The animal trainer leading you through his empty circus pointing out animals that aren't there. You follow the giant as he recalls his many ends through the quiet chambers.
You reach the initial chamber. The flickering lights pulsate, give off just enough light to make out the long staircase up to the theatre. You look up at Lazarus. He has the nano-injector in his upheld hand.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Well, it's curtains.
The great hand does not touch you. The syringe pierces his thigh and the giant crumbles.
You put your arm under Lazarus' shoulder and lift. The man weighs a ton. One step at a time, like a hundred little deaths, you haul the giant towards the light. You reach the main stage. You spot Frazer and he sees you.
Frazer Dale: Jon! Is he….
Nano-injector:
(Agility check?)
Me: It's all clear downstairs Frazer. I've deactivated the traps, but the cleanup will be intense. Lots of damage and a couple of bodies as well.
Frazer Dale: All in a day's work.
Me: No. Just asleep. Get the guards.
The scrubber runs to the entrance and returns with two guards. The men tie Lazarus' arms behind his back and pick him up. They struggle under his heft.
- Leave the Theater.
You start to head out, following the two guards struggling to carry Lazarus.
As you make your way, the small group of Actors and Dummies in the corner stand up. They all look at you with relief and appreciation in their eyes, one of them even touches their heart as a sign of thanks.
Passing the entrance of the Theater, you see a group of Patrons waiting outside, impatiently muttering and asking when their entertainment will re-commence. You start the slow return journey, going through the chaos of Tianjin, seeing all kinds of debauchery and indulgences.
Go back to Tianjin Security Services.
Next area: Security, Spirit of Tianjin
- Report back to Sergeant Parris.
You enter the reception of Tianjin Security Services. Sergeant Charmane Parris is sitting behind reception desk three, busily chewing away at her snacks. She spots you and immediately stands up and beckons you and the guards over.
Charmane Parris: I was expecting you <name>, we monitored your procession through the station.
She motions for you to sit down and goes to the officers carrying the limp body of Lazarus.
Charmane Parris: Officer Anderson, go to the Hospital and bring me a counter-agent for the induced sleep. We need to wake him up.
You see the guards drop the body on the ground, and one of them rushes off outside. The other leaves, rubbing his lower back and complaining loudly about the mall's weight.
Charmane Parris: Good job <name>, I'll sort out your payment as soon as we're done here.
Before you have a chance to answer, you see Arnaud Callon approaching in a rush. He doesn't look at you and goes straight to the body.
Me: Lazarus is asleep, I brought him back as requested.
Arnaud Callon: Yes I can see that myself, thank you.
He ignores you and looks directly at Charmane.
Either choice continues:
Arnaud Callon: Sergeant, wake the Dummy up and deal with this. You know what you need to do. I have to let management know that the situation is resolved. We need to re-start the entertainment as soon as possible.
Charmane Parris: Yes Commander, I will handle it.
Arnaud Callon: You better, this incident has already disturbed our regular services long enough. We cannot afford any more issues or the Patrons will ask for my head.
He storms off, leaving you alone with the Sergeant.
Me: I gave Frazer the all clear. He was going to start with the clean up straight away.
Charmane Parris: Yes I know, I have already spoken to Frazer about this, it is being handled.
She grabs a few snacks from her drawer and pops them in her mouth, looking both pleased but also trepidations.
Charmane Parris: I'm going to start the process for your payment while we wait. Good that you didn't kill him, would have made things complicated to say the least.
Me:
Either choice continues:
- Wait for your payment.
You sit patiently, watching the Sergeant fiddle around on her terminal, all the while feeding herself with small bits of ration. Does she ever stop eating?
A few minutes later, the Officer Anderson runs back into the reception, holding a small device, similar to the disposable nano-injector you used before.
Charmane Parris: Thank you Anderson. Please wait here in case I need backup.
The officer hands the Sergeant the quick-release syringe and steps to the side. He takes out his firearm, holding onto it firmly.
- Watch the interaction unfold.
You see the Sergeant bend down and inject Lazarus on the neck. She takes a step back while waiting for him to break out of his slumber. He slowly wakes, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. Being restrained, it's difficult for him to straighten himself.
Charmane Parris: Anderson, help the man to his feet.
The officer grabs hold of Lazarus and lifts him up, making sure he's stable before stepping back to his position.
Charmane Parris: Jon Lazarus Caen, can you hear me? Are you able to comprehend my words?
Lazarus looks at Parris. He nods.
Jon Lazarus Caen: I comprehend.
Charmane Parris: Your contract has been terminated. You are no longer in the employ of the Spirit of Tianjin. Your company clone has been decommissioned. Do you understand?
The great man bristles, an instinctive reaction to the sergeant's condescending tone. He plays along.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Yes, I understand.
Charmane Parris: You are charged, under Section 4A, subsection 761C with having caused the wrongful death of no less than two employees of the TSS. You are further charged under Sections 45B, subsections 8965B and 9768Z with the intentional disruption of Carnival business and endangering the enjoyment and safety of patrons. Lastly, but not in any way least your are charged under Section99S of stealing confectionaries from the snack stand.
Jon is unimpressed. Dying a thousand deaths takes the edge off of judicial proceedings no doubt.
Charmane Parris: The Spirit of Tianjin Board of Directors has reviewed your case and passed a motion on this matter.
Jon Lazarus Caen: Free snacks forever?
He grins at her, returning the condescending air in his own, inimitable way.
She pulls her service revolver from its holster and shoots him point blank between the eyes.
The bullet does not exit the skull. Jon Caen's majestic shoulders slump, he collapses backwards knocking over an aluminum chair. A rivulet of blood trickles silently from the wound between his open eyes.
Charmane Parris: He always did want to die that way.
Me: What the smog did you do?! He came in peacefully.
Charmane Parris: Calm down <name>. The sentence is mandated under corporate bylaws. He signed on. The Spirit of Tianjin is an Independent entity, with close ties to both the Consortium and Gaule affiliates. They have their ways, we have ours. You've just witnessed ours.
She reaches into a drawer, You don't resister the snack she's offering.
Charmane Parris: What's bad for business is bad for society. You remember that now. Sure you won't have one? They're chocolate coated.
Me: You told me not to kill him! Why did you do that?!
Charmane Parris: I ordered you not to. That's true. You're not contracted to execute on our behalf. The cost of hiring you to perform that function would have been cost prohibitive. Don't get me started on extra-judicial killing union clauses.
The conversation is suddenly absurd. Jon stares up between you and Parris. Where's Frazer to take him away? To shut his eyes?
Charmane Parris: You did your job. Now go home -or wherever it is you go when the job is done.
Me: You never told me you'd kill him.
Charmane Parris: You didn't ask <name>. Come now, he was a charismatic guy, but don't tell me you got to know him that well down there.
Her eyes flicker as she checks an incoming message on her CORETECHS.
Charmane Parris: Accounts Payable has cleared your payment. It is being transferred as we speak. TSS is satisfied with your services and will gladly recommend you to prospective employers in the future.
Outside the small, secluded office the business of Tianjin bustles on like a busy, self-satisfied door to door salesperson. Jon's body lies on the cold, metal floor, a slab of meat with shoes. You look down at him, awaiting resurrection.
Charmane Parris: Anderson. Get Frazer up here will you? He'll want to handle this one personally. See <name> I'm not all business. Frazer will take good care of him.
The further you can get from her vacuous smile, the better it will be for all involved. Your CORETECHS breaks up the awkward moment in timely fashion.
Me:
Either choice continues:
Mission success
You have received 500.00 credits.
You leave the absurdity the TSS behind you. The same camera that tracked you when you entered, follows you out - a mechanical goodbye. The machine's indifference as it spies you is somehow reassuring. You look up at the camera. It focuses in on you. It's fascination is preprogrammed. It, like Sergeant Parris does its job automatically, void of the encumbrance of emotion.
A group of patrons, their shirts off, their lungs filled with ravenous screams runs by you in pursuit of a Dummy. You pan the scene, catch sight of the fear in the eye of the hunted man. Perhaps emotion is more of a curse than a blessing. You can't be sure. Tianjin is not a station erected to the certitudes of humankind.
You head into the midnight morning of space; to wherever home is; to wherever someone like you goes after the job is done.
Mission success
You have completed the "Curtain Call" mission.
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