act47side

How the crap did One-Boot Shadow-Moon Real Estate solve that stupid '3D levitating boundary marker' technical issue? That bunch of cobblers?

Your request has been processed, Mr. Aspen. The Propeller Paradise hotline will remain available until the end of the day.

Okay...

However, if you have certain 'special' needs, like One-Boot Shadow-Moon Real Estate did... we can help you with that.

What do you mean?

The smiling staff member takes out the business directory that virtually everyone in Propeller Paradise has a copy of, and points to a phone number.

No name, no address, just an unremarkable phone number hidden among thousands, as tiny as Aspen's hope.

One phone call to this number is gonna solve all my problems? Lucky Cystybeast won't have to leave Propeller Paradise?

Correct.

Then I want to withdraw the terminations and the cancellation of registration—

No need to worry. The registration of Lucky Cystybeast has not been cancelled. However, you do not need to withdraw the termination of your testers.

This phone call will 'completely' solve your problems, and you won't need those people anymore.

A miracle, or a scam...?

Screw it. Anything to stay up here.

Mr. Tannen.

Let me guess. Nasti was skeptical, but she accepted the list and agreed to the proposal?

Yes. I checked the Engineering Department's inspection schedule for today, and it's exactly in the order that you proposed.

But how did you know?

I didn't know what she was going to choose. All I know was that I'm at the apex of my life right now, and everything is going my way!

You're in good spirits.

It's gonna take more than a Rhine director to move the needle.

Open the letter on the table.

'From: Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Arts Units, and Originium, To: Mr. Gordon Tannen. Congratulations on your appointment as Chief Executive of Propeller Paradise...'

Two pages? I've never seen a congratulation letter this long.

The reassignment letter that I got six months ago on the border was two lines.

Everyone thinks the ATAO is a sweet gig, but I didn't get to embezzle shit from the savages in Sami or the tribals in the Sargonian rainforest.

The old fox hated me, and the rest of the ATAO turned their noses up at me. Now? He's retired, and I'm promoted. Things sure can change in a hurry, don't they?

It's still light out, but a happy occasion like this calls for a—

A toast.

Your champagne, sir.

Well done, Merry. You've made some progress in your time with me, whether we're talking about Nasti or this glass. Pour one for yourself.

Thank you, sir. However, the Rules are quite clear about not drinking on the job.

Beastshit. I pulled that manual out of my ass.

In that case... would you like to say a few words?

Yeah... the exhibition six days from now is just the start. My opening address will be the toast of all of Columbia.

Every rocket will have my face on it, and the largest district in Shadow-Moon will be named after me.

Rhine, ATAO, the District... no one's ever gonna tell Gordon Tannen what to do! This'll be <i>my</i> Propeller Paradise, forever and ever!

Bottoms-up!

Who are you? Here for the party?

Hello. Are you the Chief Executive of Propeller Paradise?

Oakley, newly appointed guide for Propeller Paradise. I'm supposed to report to a Mr. Gordon Tannen.

Pffft—!

Gordon Tannen spits the champagne out of his mouth.

Shit, bro, take my name if you want, but you didn't have to steal my entire past!

How dare you slander me! I wrote the entire application myself!

Can you recite it from memory?

H-How am I supposed to pull something I wrote a year ago from memory?

'Oakley, born in Bunkerhill, graduate of Trimounts College of Arts and Science, previously worked as a guide in the Human Development and Technological Inovation Department of the District Convention Center...'

'Innovation' is misspelled.

You! Damn you, if I didn't lose my terminal and CV—

Gordon's head has never hurt so badly.

The holes in the onboarding process are obvious upon further inspection. But the real question is—

Why would she impersonate a guide?

Is she a Leithanian spy? A DOD agent? Or a pair of eyes that D.C. is keeping on him?

The impostor has already made contact with many corporations at the preview exhibition. Dealing with her now means broadcasting his negligence to the whole country.

Besides, Gordon has no idea how much she knows, and whether she has ill intentions towards him and Columbia...

Gordon does not dare to think about it any further.

Your gaze wanders when you speak. Your voice is trembling, and you talk without rhyme or reason.

I doubt Mr. Tannen would want such an 'Oakley' to handle promotion work.

Don't bring Mr. Tannen into this! I tell you—

Shut up!

Perhaps you need a little time to calm down, 'Mister' Oakley. Come with me to the reception room to rest for a while.

Mr. Tannen, I...

Listen up. I just pulled your activity records from the park here. It won't be hard to figure out just who you are.

One more lie, and I'm throwing you off this plate. It won't matter who you are when you're a puddle on the ground six hundred meters down. You get me?

Now talk. Who are you?

...A guide.

You got balls, I'll give you that.

Th-The kind of guide the tourists need!

My name is Ferne. I-I'm a tour guide.

My apologies, Mr. Oakley. Mr. Tannen will make sure that this matter is dealt with promptly.

Do you believe me now?

Of course. You can reach me through this terminal if you need anything. Now, get some rest. I'll be going.

Alright.

Done.

Read the room and avert potential risks for your boss...

Another rule for secretaries.

You said Oakley got himself drunk a month ago after a breakup, and he gave you his resume instead of his contact info, which gave you a chance to sneak into Propeller Paradise under his identity?

That's right.

Your client was an old Banshee who somehow got lost in the Bleached Wasteland. Her memory was hazy and it was difficult to communicate with her?

Yes.

You suspected that she was ill, and you were asking around under the guise of a guide to make her journey a smooth one, which is why you looked like you were up to something?

Exactly!

You've spent a whole month here. You know this is no ordinary place. If you're a foreign spy, the military take you in for questioning, torture, and you'll never again see the light of day.

If you're an agent from the Department of Defense, D.C. won't let you off the hook. They'll disavow, distort, and even dispose of you, all for the sake of tipping the scales to their side.

If you're a District plant, then you've learned too much, and ATAO taught me plenty of ways to help you 'forget'.

But you're just a tour guide who cares for her client. You're a good person.

And Columbia will do good by a good person.

You aren't going to press charges?

Believe me, I'd love to, but too many corporations have noticed your performance at the pre-expo. You'll deal with your problems and get lost before they find out who you are.

The longer you stay, the more I have to compensate the poor guy whose name you stole. If all you want to do is to clear the mind of your Banshee client, I can help.

You know about Banshees?

I know how to solve your problem.

Floating botanical unit connected.

Bioelectrical signal detected. Charging drive unit.

Phew... that's the smoothest these experiments have gone, isn't it?

No, this voice... the short-circuit protection has kicked in.

(In Sarkaz) Unravel.

(In Sarkaz) Unravel!

Hmph.