act47side

The VP before me spent four years worrying about immigration and tariffs, but me?

Impregnable cities got captured, a never-changing sky got ripped open, and a long-silent ocean began to speak.

After all that, the core nations unanimously decided 'balloons are always aerial bombs in disguise'.

And what about us?

Oh, this balloon of ours can't even fly.

Before the balloons were sent over, the flammable hydrogen got replaced with regular air... for safety reasons, of course.

How safe and careful we Columbians are.

This sounds like a serious matter of national security, but you're discussing it with a retiree...?

Inside the State Building, the finest reception hall in all of D.C., even?

It's hard to imagine retirement making things any different for Jara Booker Wilson.

My hospitality is hardly befitting the once Eternally Shining Star, or Rhine Lab's former Director of HR.

These days, people seem more willing to be moved by a legend or miracle than by politics or promises.

Even the most rational congressmen are no exception.

If you're referring to the few meetings I had with Congressman Wayne, I believe you've already expressed your gratitude... with those unique souvenirs from Kjerag.

That was just a personal token of my gratitude. Besides, I later realized the scientists at the observation station must have sent you something similar before.

If you show up and give the right people the chance to put hydrogen back into Columbia's balloons, I'm sure I won't be the only one in line to thank you.

To my understanding, the most suitable people to do it would be those who made the balloon in the first place.

I've stepped in on their behalf quite a few times.

Researchers are as sincere as children. I can never bear to see their hopes dashed.

You're right that retirement has made no difference to me whatsoever, though.

Of course, we all know how important Rhine is to you.

Look. Propeller Paradise... you don't even need binoculars to see it anymore.

We need only wait and see what they'll turn Columbia's balloons into.

Look! This high-altitude adaptive balloon in the shape of the President is one of our hot souvenirs!

A thin film on the balloon's surface automatically adjusts its molecular structure according to the environment, so it won't explode, even if it collides with the Barrier.

Think about it, Miss! Just how many balloons could we fit under the Barrier?

I remember agents are required to pass a university-level physics fundamentals exam.

Isn't this park's purpose to push the boundaries of physics itself?

Are you implying those samples and snacks on you are for research purposes?

(Satisfied chewing)

Just for disguise purposes. I'm about to buy some fresh cotton candy planets over at platform four—a small vacuum chamber that can simulate the birth and development of Terra... don't you think it romantic?

At least, that's less boring than having to transport a special someone.

Special... you mean that Banshee?

Yeah, the one you were in charge of before.

So the Tin Man already knew...

He said you had an urgent mission to handle, so we'll take over evacuating the special individual.

Væla in bad shape. You'll have to be very careful.

I know, an old Banshee has to be skilled in witchcraft, no? We'll set up cognitive interference detectors to make sure nothing goes awry.

Cognitive interference? But she's already being tormented by her shattered memories—

Man, where my colleagues at? We have to evacuate all park personnel from the levitation layer in the next half hour, or I won't get to buy any souvenirs.

This is the last chance we'll get to see such weird stuff.

I think you should go buy your cotton candy planets. They won't be coming.

Huh? I—

I'm... at the ropeway station?

Right, I gotta go to platform four, or I'll miss out on the cotton candy.

Madam Væla, my apologies, but I only bought you thirty minutes.

Act on your desires. You're free.

The door, is open.

Guiding me... home?

...But where is... Nasti...?

There's still an hour before the broadcast begins. Which necktie should I wear...?

Tch. Is Gustave still deciding who will make the opening speech? Drag it out any longer and we'll have no time to prepare the script!

An hour won't be enough to list all my countless contributions to the park. There are also the many organizations and departments to thank for all the help they've given me, they deserve the recognition...

Everything will go as planned, surely...?

What am I thinking!? We may not get along, but there's no way he'll side with a Kuranta he's only known for a few days.

*sigh* Even at the very end, Gustave never changes. Using every trick up his sleeve to keep his lackeys in line, just to make them do as they're told.

We're like a bunch of kids. Getting all nervous over a little prize we deserve.

How come Five-Four's not back yet? Wasn't it supposed to just check the office for any news?

Who's that?!

...A letter?

I knew it... I knew it!

After hesitating for so long, he settles on the obvious choice, me!

How much effort did I put in just to snatch the opportunity to transfer here? How much did I have to finagle to climb the ladder from my lowly admin job in six months?

<i>I'm</i> the chief executive of Propeller Paradise, I'm the only one who can front it!

Oh, he even wrote a speech for me? That sly old fox, never leaves anything to chance.

'My fellow Columbians, I am Gordon Tannen, the chief executive of Propeller Paradise. I'm sure I've kept you waiting in front of your screens for some time now.'

'Now, it is with a heavy heart that I announce the official cancellation of Air Expo Columbia. A major accident occurred in the park, and as the one in charge of the place, I bear an undeniable responsibility for this...'

Wait, an accident? Is this a mistake? This is a—

A public apology?

Alert! Alert!

Patrol complete, letter not obtained. Part of the path has been blocked by a group of Terrans. Based on their travel route, they are presumably heading toward the levitation layer's experiment zone.

At the same time, detecting several high-powered Originium products on the move, bearing cargo identification tags...

They belong to Gordon Tannen.

My tags...?

An apology letter, and the news brought back by Five-Four... This is no mischievous prophecy, but indisputable reality.

Shock, panic, anger... countless emotions fill Gordon's chest.

Is Gustave about to cause an accident? On Propeller Paradise, the expo all of Columbia has been eagerly waiting to see?

For what reason? When did he begin planning this? What sort of pawn is 'Gordon Tannen' to him?

'Apology', 'Amends'—Gordon is all too familiar with these words. Ostracized by his colleagues and driven by his eccentric hobby, he was always 'violating the rules'.

The thin sheet of paper before him reflects the cumulation of his work over the past seven years.

He wrote hundreds of self-reflection letters during his time at ATAO. He remembers every single time Gustave would demand an apology from him, and how he slid from defiance to compromise.

The reward he deserved, the things he begged Gustave for like a child—were accusations against him all along.

Did you get the speech, Tannen?

So? Can you do it?

His carefully chosen necktie tightens, like a torture device.

All I have to do, is do as I'm told.

Platform 3 secondary patrol complete. Target pod in position, no suspicious individuals detected.

There's no one else left on this little platform but us. What's the sitch on your end?

The four pods' engines have undergone breakpoint testing, and the park's about to enter the intercity net's range.

Remember the official line to the public: The gathering is only temporary, and they can all return to their respective exhibit areas once the broadcast's intro segment is done.

Understood.

You sure everyone's gone on your end? The Tin Man stressed we had to make sure all park personnel are safely evacuated before we send the operation signal.

The main road was sealed off an hour ago, the support platform's emergency jump pads are all shut, and the cable car routes were all diverted to only go in one direction last night, so no one's been able to get in.

Better play it safe...

Ropeway station needs backup. That Rhine research assistant is blocking the access hub with a group of testers, and it's hard to get around them...

Gah, go back them up. It's crucial we time this right, every preparatory step has to be complete before the broadcast begins.

What was that...?

Look, over here.

A soda bottle cap?

Probably rolled off the table from the floating pod shaking. It's probably nothing, let's go.