Dual Transform
Andrew Plotkin
cave changing environment church cover art gender-neutral protagonist I7 source available library on Jay Is Games parser single room transformation virtual reality Xyzzy Awards 2010
This story takes place in a single room  but not always the same one. The room contains just one item, but again, there's more to it than that. Experiment and enjoy.
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Time for a fresh start.

You've been slogging towards the goal -- true metasemanticity -- for months. Code-logic sparkles in your dreams and mutters in your ears. You've made great strides of progress, thrown them away, rewritten, rearranged, refactored -- but the contract deadline is crawling down your throat. No escaping that. You've got to pull this project together, and soon.

So forget all of the environment modelling, the texture cores, the interface splicing. You're going to build on basic physical forces. Like heat, light, maybe mass... Make it feel real, in the user's gut.

A Metasemantic Construction by Andrew Plotkin ("Nigel Smith")

(Type "about" for credits and game information.)

Nothing surrounds you. The virtual space is unbounded and absolutely blank. Just the opposite of what you're aiming at, you think wryly.

With a mental flick, you call up the archetype of a force. Pressure, you decide. Mathematically simple, but instinctual. The archetype forms before you: a simple equation hanging in the workspace.
You take the equation
You cup your hand around the equation and compile. It shrinks obligingly into a small icon, which you take.

This is just what you were hoping for -- a simple principle, from which an entire immersive world can grow. Now to drop it in the workspace and see what you get.
About yourself
"T. Jant Ganzfeld is a notable contract researcher in virtual workspace design..." But you don't need to re-read your own Distribupedia article. If this project works out, it'll get a lot more impressive. If not -- goodbye to that "notable". And maybe that "is", too.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
the pressure icon
You examine icon
It's a small symbol representing pressure, in all its aspects and implications.
You drop icon
You haven't got that.

This environment is a mere sketch, but you didn't sketch it. It's grown entirely from your subconscious symbolism. This is what you've been striving for. Now you just need to draw out more archetypes.
You examine the altar
The altar is a simple block of smoky marble, at one end of the red carpet. Standing upon it is a tall candle, which is lit.

A gust of air brushes over you.
You look at the altar
The altar is a simple block of smoky marble, at one end of the red carpet. Standing upon it is a tall candle, which is lit.
You get the candle
Upon closer examination, the candle is an archetype: heat. You reach out and compile; it shrinks obligingly into a small icon, which you take.
You look at the icon
(the heat icon)
It's a small symbol representing heat, in all its ramifications and aspects.

Air moves through the cathedral.
You drop icon
Which do you mean, the heat icon, or the pressure icon?
Pressure
You haven't got that.

Sweat begins to drip from you.
You examine the chest
A heavy wooden trunk, at least a yard wide, stands at the south end of the hall. The trunk is closed.
Open chest
You grab the lid and yank, but it doesn't move. You crouch and shift your hold; but the chest is either locked, or jammed, or warped with age. It will not open.

The fire crackles unexpectedly.
You look at the fire
A trench runs up the hall; bonfires are built along it in a blazing chain. You can feel the yellow heat pressing against your face, and your back is cool only in comparison. The air is nearly stifling.
You check your inventory
You are carrying nothing.

The icons shift slightly in the workspace.
You invoke the pressure icon
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment shifts around you.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it hang your two icons.

Something is different here... You glance around. A small offering-box now sits on top of the altar. You're sure it wasn't there before.
You examine the altar
The altar is a simple block of smoky marble, at one end of the red carpet. Standing upon it is a small offering box, which is closed.
You look at the offering box
A small chased-silver box, perhaps an offering-box, rests on the altar. The box is closed.

You glance around the room, comparing locations. Yes, a direct symbolic parallel: this tiny box occupies the same spot as the enormous wooden chest.

A puff of air brushes past you.
You get the box
Upon further inspection, the box is bolted down. Given that this is your own imagery, you wonder what your subconscious is saying about the rest of you.
You open the box
You lift the lid. Disappointingly, the box is empty.
You examine the icons
Within the workspace you see the heat icon and the pressure icon.

Air sighs through the cathedral.
You examine Air
The air here shifts in unpredictable gusts and currents; the organ pipes blow gentle, unceasing turbulence throughout the room.

The icons shift slightly in the workspace.
You look at the organ
Brass organ pipes cover the north wall. Air rushes through them -- not loudly, but with a steady undertone of irregular chords.
You examine the knife
Lying in the chest is a knife, a plain black iron blade with a leather-wrapped hilt. You see immediately that the knife is an archetype of light.

The icons shift slightly in the workspace.
You take it
You take the knife and compile. It shrinks obligingly into a small icon.

Sweat begins to drip from you.
You look at the icon
(the light icon)
It's a small symbol representing light, in all its details and ramifications.
You touch it
You hold the light icon up and give it a push towards the workspace. It slides neatly into place, and the world transforms around you.

You are underground, by the echoes and the irregular rock underfoot. But the space is lost in darkness. A chill stream trickles past, and the faintest phosphorescence trickles with it. Beyond arm's reach, however, you see only black.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it drift three icons.

A worn axe is jammed into a stalactite, just to the south. Unfortunately, it's well above your head.
You jump
You can't jump quite high enough to reach the axe.

Air flutters, somewhere overhead.
You look at the axe
It's an axe, perhaps an old spelunker's tool. It's stuck into a stalactite, which projects down out of the darkness above.
You look at the stream
A shallow stream of water flows nearby. Where it ripples, it sheds a slight phosphorescence -- the only illumination around you.
Drink water
You scoop up a few drops and lick them from your fingers. The water tastes very clean, and very old.

You hear a few bats flutter by, off to snack on insects somewhere.
You take the axe
The axe is stuck too high to reach.

The icons rebound gently off the sides of the workspace.
You invoke the pressure
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment transforms around you.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar, which supports a small open offering box.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it drift three icons.

A rough pewter chalice is lying near the altar. Ah -- this must be the parallel of the rusty axe.
You examine the pewter
The chalice is dull metal -- roughly-hammered, and decorated only by scratches. It is empty.

A breath of air brushes over you.
You take the pewter
Taken.
You invoke the heat
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment shifts into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it drift three icons.
You invoke the light
You invoke the light icon, and the environment changes around you.

You are underground, by the echoes and the irregular rock underfoot. But the space is lost in darkness. A chill stream trickles past, and the faintest phosphorescence trickles with it. Beyond arm's reach, however, you see only black.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it drift three icons.

The icons rebound gently off the sides of the workspace.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a pewter chalice
You put the water in the chalice
You kneel and fill the chalice with stream water.

Air flutters, somewhere overhead.
You drop the chalice
As you release the pewter chalice full of water, it shimmers. You watch, fascinated, as its shape readjusts to its new environment. In moments, the pewter chalice full of water has reverted to being a rusty axe.
You press the heat
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment transforms into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it drift three icons.
You drop the axe
As the rusty axe leaves your grasp, it shimmers and transforms into a wooden torch.

The icons rebound gently off the sides of the workspace.
You press the light
Taken.

Sweat begins to drip from you.

You invoke the light icon, and the environment shifts around you.

You are underground, by the echoes and the irregular rock underfoot. But the space is lost in darkness. A chill stream trickles past, and the faintest phosphorescence trickles with it. Beyond arm's reach, however, you see only black.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it drift three icons.
Light torch
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment changes into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it drift three icons.

The flame catches easily. The torch is now burning brightly.

Sweat begins to drip from you.
You press light
You invoke the light icon, and the environment transforms around you.

You stand in an echoing space; your torch picks glimmers of reflection from distant stone walls. A chill stream trickles past you and away into the darkness.

The torchlight reveals a pale fat mushroom squatting in a corner of the cave, a short distance away.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it drift three icons.
You examine the mushroom
A pale mushroom shines dimly in a nearby corner of the cave. You recognize the mushroom as an archetype of charge.

The icons rebound gently off the sides of the workspace.
You take it
You take the mushroom and compile. It shrinks obligingly into a small icon.

Air flutters, somewhere overhead.
You examine the small icon
(the charge icon)
It's a small symbol representing charge, in all its implications and details.
You press charge
You hold the charge icon up and push it towards the workspace. It resists for a moment, and then slides into place. The environment transforms.

This square tower is built of granite blocks braced by high iron beams. The roof is a broad sweep of lead-framed glass; it creaks and flexes under the assault of the hammering rain outside.

A complex apparatus dominates the room: a heavy brass tank, surmounted by copper and glass tubing. Wires drape from the roof down to the apparatus, hanging every which way.

Your workspace sits in the center of the lab. Inside it move four icons.
You examine the apparatus
A fat brass vessel, a riveted cauldron of a thing, squats before you. A narrow copper pipe curves from the tank's top; the pipe spirals up inside of a wider glass flask.

Through a small porthole you can see the contents of the tank: a heap of rusty brown flakes lying in a cloud of sparkling vapor.

Lightning illuminates the storm overhead, followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder. At the same moment, you notice the vapor in the tank suddenly whirl and dance.
You examine the flakes
In the brass tank is a small heap of some flaky mineral; the substance is rusty brown with faint flecks of gold. Sparkling vapor rises from the material and swirls within the tank.
Look around
This square tower is built of granite blocks braced by high iron beams. The roof is a broad sweep of lead-framed glass, hammered by the roaring rain outside.

A complex apparatus dominates the room: a heavy brass tank, surmounted by copper and glass tubing. Wires drape from the roof down to the apparatus, hanging every which way.

Your workspace sits in the center of the lab. Inside it move four icons.
You examine the wires
Wires run from the tank up to the roof, or from the roof down to the tank, as you like. They are connected above to antennas which thrust from the roof, up into the storm.

The workspace quivers. You glance at it, and notice the icons moving jerkily inside. Strange.
You examine the workspace
The workspace is represented by a clear, waist-high cube. Within it are the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all moving jerkily.

Lightning flashes somewhere nearby. At the same moment, you notice the vapor in the tank suddenly whirl and dance.
Examine tank
A fat brass vessel, a riveted cauldron of a thing, squats before you. A narrow copper pipe curves from the tank's top; the pipe spirals up inside of a wider glass flask.

Through a small porthole you can see the contents of the tank: a heap of rusty brown flakes lying in a cloud of sparkling vapor.

Thunder rumbles.
You examine flask
A wide glass flask is suspended above the tank. The copper pipe runs up to it, and then spirals up the flask's interior. You notice the inside of the flask, and the pipe within it, show a dry white crust -- as if the flask had boiled dry.
You look at the flakes
In the brass tank is a small heap of some flaky mineral; the substance is rusty brown with faint flecks of gold. Sparkling vapor rises from the material and swirls within the tank.

Lightning flashes somewhere in the distance. At the same moment, you notice the vapor in the tank suddenly whirl and dance.
You drop the torch
As the flaming torch leaves your grasp, it shimmers and transforms into a brass compass.

The workspace quivers as the icons move.
You examine compass
The compass is a palm-sized instrument, precisely engraved. The needle wavers uncertainly in this charged atmosphere.

Thunder rumbles.
You invoke the pressure
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment shifts into a new form.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar, which supports a small open offering box.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it move four icons.
You drop the compass
As the brass compass leaves your grasp, it reverts to being a pewter chalice full of water.

The workspace quivers as the icons move.
You take the chalice
Taken.

A gust of air brushes past you.
Wait
Time passes. Your deadline creeps closer.

Hair-fine red crystals, like frost, are beginning to form at the top of the pipe.
You examine the crystals
A delicate snowflake of red crystal is forming at the top of the copper pipe, above the flask. It grows before your eyes.

The workspace quivers as the icons move.

A red crystalline snowflake is condensing on the copper spike.
You examine the snowflake
A delicate snowflake of red crystal is forming at the top of the copper pipe, above the flask. It grows before your eyes.

The red crystal continues to solidify.
Wait
Time passes.

The last of the vapor is drawn from the tank, as the red crystal finishes filling out; it is now a solid polyhedral mass.
You touch the crystal
You feel nothing unexpected.

Lightning illuminates the storm overhead, followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder.
You take it
It appears that the crystal is an archetype: weight. You reach out and compile; it shrinks obligingly into a small icon, which you take.
Press weight
You push the weight icon towards the workspace -- but it skids to the side. You tighten your grip to try again. With some careful pressure, the icon slides into place.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. It is only at a second glance that you realize they are not stacked with books. Instead, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

A single bookcase stands to the west -- that is, one case which is full of books, as opposed to metal. It is fitted with doors, however, and they are closed.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.
You drop the chalice
As the pewter chalice leaves your grasp, it shimmers and transforms into a silver key.

The blades overhead clink gently.
You unlock door
Taken.

(with the silver key)
You prod at the doors, but you see no way to insert a key at all.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You open door
The bookcase's doors are closed and locked. You see no keyhole.
Examine books
The books, like the weapons, vary wildly in size and heft. No titles are evident, but they are bound in all shades of green and brown. And since they are locked away behind a steel screen, you have no idea what they contain.
You take the swords
Unfortunately, they're all strapped tightly to the shelves. Except for the blades that are hanging from chains from the roof, and you can't reach those. Apparently this is not a lending library.
You invoke the light
You invoke the light icon, and the environment transforms into a new form.

You are underground, by the echoes and the irregular rock underfoot. But the space is lost in darkness. A chill stream trickles past, and the faintest phosphorescence trickles with it. Beyond arm's reach, however, you see only black.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it bounce five icons.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You drop the key
As the silver key leaves your grasp, it reverts to being a rusty axe.
You take the axe
Taken.

Air flutters, somewhere overhead.
You examine the workspace
The workspace is represented by a clear, waist-high cube. Within it are the weight icon, the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all bouncing around.

(Your workspace, of course, is not visually rendered. It would be visible even in total darkness.)

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
Press weight
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment shifts around you.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

A single bookcase stands to the west -- that is, one case which is full of books, as opposed to metal. It is fitted with doors, however, and they are closed.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.
You hit the screen with the axe
You whack the bookcase with the axe, but it is solid. And the axe isn't that sharp.

The blades overhead clink gently.
You examine the bookcase
The bookcase is a tall wooden affair, finely built; the wood is inlaid with an abstract pattern of tree branches. Behind the steel-mesh doors are rows of books, bound in old green and brown leather.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You invoke the pressure
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment changes into a new form.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar, which supports a small open offering box.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it bounce five icons.

The west wall is now filled by an enormous stained-glass window, which certainly wasn't there before. The window depicts a tall green tree, standing in a field of lesser greenery.
You examine the window
The glass tiles are not set in lead; perhaps the mosaic is fused or cemented. However the window was made, it shines with thousands of tints of green.

A puff of air brushes over you.
You open the window
There's no way to open that.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You break the window
You raise the axe, and chop down at the window. Glass splinters, and the window cracks alarmingly. Then, with a towering crash, the entire window shatters into a cascade of broken green glass.

When the catastrophe ends, the window frame is a jagged hole, beyond which is a blank white marble wall.
You look at the hole
Shards of broken green glass spill across the floor. Behind the window casing is only blank white marble.
You invoke the weight
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment transforms around you.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

The bookcase still stands, but its doors have been torn open; they hang in pieces. The books have tumbled out in a heap at your feet.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
Examine books
You pick up a book and open it. The pages are all blank.
You take the books
You open another book; this one, too, is blank.

The blades overhead clink gently.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a rusty axe

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You take the book
Still blank.
Again
Still blank.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You drop all
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment shifts into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it bounce five icons.

Something new lies here, on the west side of the hall. It's a dead, gnarled tree, lying uprooted where certainly you saw no tree before. Its leaves have fallen into a yellow heap, drifted around the bare branches.

(the rusty axe)
As the rusty axe leaves your grasp, it reverts to being a flaming torch.

Sweat begins to drip from you.
You burn books with the torch
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment changes around you.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

The bookcase still stands, but its doors have been torn open; they hang in pieces. The books have tumbled out in a heap at your feet.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.

A silver key shines gently on the floor.

I only understood you as far as wanting to burn the books.
You take the torch
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment transforms into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it bounce five icons.

A torch is lying on the ground, burning unsteadily.

The old tree has been uprooted; it lies dead on the west side of the hall. Its leaves have fallen into a yellow heap, drifted around the bare branches.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.

Taken.
You burn the books with the torch
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment shifts around you.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

The bookcase still stands, but its doors have been torn open; they hang in pieces. The books have tumbled out in a heap at your feet.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.

I only understood you as far as wanting to burn the books.
Burn books
That's a horrible idea, even for blank books.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You search the books
You dig into the pile of books, but there are many of them, and none stand out.

The blades overhead clink gently.
You invoke the heat
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment changes into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it bounce five icons.

The old tree has been uprooted; it lies dead on the west side of the hall. Its leaves have fallen into a yellow heap, drifted around the bare branches.
Search leaves
You grab a handful of leaves; they crumble away. Well, you think, and dig in with both hands. Leaves disintegrate in clumps and wafts, filling the air with dust. It doesn't take long before the entire heap is gone.

A single leaf remains, lying against the fallen tree. Unlike the others, this one gleams bright metallic gold.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
You examine tree
The tree lies uprooted upon the earth. A single gold leaf remains, lying against the wood.

Sweat begins to drip from you.
You take the gold leaf
You realize that the gold leaf is not real; it is painted on the fallen tree.
Burn tree
The leaves are already gone.
You invoke the weight
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment transforms around you.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

The bookcase still stands, but its doors have been torn open; they hang in pieces. A single book remains, a small golden volume. It is chained to the bookcase with a gold padlock.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it bounce five icons.

The workspace vibrates to the icons' sharp movements.
Examine book
The remaining book is a small volume, the size of your palm, but its leather cover is leafed in gold. It is chained to the bottom shelf with a gold chain and padlock. You see immediately that the book is an archetype of form.
You drop the torch
As the flaming torch leaves your grasp, it reverts to being a silver key.

The blades overhead clink gently.
You take the book
You take the book and compile. It shrinks obligingly into a small icon.
You put the icon in the workspace
(the form icon in the workspace)
You raise the form icon, and feel the tangible resistance beating from the workspace. What a mess. You lean against it, and slowly shove the icon into its place.

You stand on mossy earth, surrounded by the silhouettes of dark and massive standing stones. It is night. But the sky shows no stars at all.

Your workspace sits in the center of the circle. Inside it the six icons whirl.
You look at the stones
The stones are massive, worn, and very old. You can make out little else.

You count eight stones around you. Seven of them are of similar height; one is much taller.
You examine the tall stone
The taller stone is to the... the...

Hang on. You're not sure which direction that is. How bizarre.

The workspace is shaking.
You press charge
You invoke the charge icon, and the environment shifts into a new form.

This square tower is built of granite blocks braced by high iron beams. The roof is a broad sweep of lead-framed glass, hammered by the roaring rain outside.

A complex apparatus dominates the room: a heavy brass tank, surmounted by copper and bubbling glass tubing. Wires drape from the roof down to the apparatus, hanging every which way.

Your workspace sits in the center of the lab. Inside it the six icons whirl.
You drop key
As the silver key leaves your grasp, it reverts to being a brass compass.

The workspace is shaking.
You take compass
Taken.

Lightning illuminates the storm overhead, followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder.
You look at the icons
Within the workspace you see the form icon, the weight icon, the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all whirling rapidly.
Invoke form
You invoke the form icon, and the environment changes around you.

You stand on mossy earth, surrounded by the silhouettes of dark and massive standing stones. It is night. But the sky shows no stars at all.

Your workspace sits in the center of the circle. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The workspace is shaking.
You examine the tall stone
The taller stone is to the... the...

Hang on. You're not sure which direction that is. How bizarre.
You examine compass
You bend over the compass. The needle turns slowly, as if seeking something more subtle than magnetic north. It gleams, catching the moonlight...

Wait. There is no moon. Something glows in your cupped hand -- no longer a brass compass -- and then it crawls between your fingers and flutters upward.

The workspace is shaking.
You describe your surroundings
You stand on mossy earth, surrounded by the silhouettes of dark and massive standing stones. It is night. But the sky shows no stars at all.

Your workspace sits in the center of the circle. Inside it the six icons whirl.

A glowing moth is fluttering erratically back and forth around the Circle, above you.
You examine the moth
The moth is fluttering erratically back and forth around the Circle, above you. Its wings glow softly against the night sky.

The workspace is shaking.
You take the moth
It's just out of reach.
You examine the workspace
The workspace is represented by a clear, waist-high cube. Within it are the form icon, the weight icon, the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all whirling rapidly.

The workspace is shaking.
You look
You stand on mossy earth, surrounded by the silhouettes of dark and massive standing stones. It is night. But the sky shows no stars at all.

Your workspace sits in the center of the circle. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The glowing moth is fluttering erratically back and forth around the Circle, above you.

The workspace is shaking.
You examine the stones
The stones are massive, worn, and very old. You can make out little else.

You count eight stones around you. Seven of them are of similar height; one is much taller.
You examine the tall stone
The taller stone is to the... but you're not sure which direction is which.
You invoke the pressure
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment transforms into a new form.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar, which supports a small open offering box.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it the six icons whirl.

Interesting -- the glowing moth has remained invariant, in the room's transformation. It is fluttering around the Church, unchanged.

The window is broken, but most of the glass is gone.

The workspace is shaking.
You take the moth
It escapes your grasp.
You look at the glass
The window is shattered, although most of the broken glass has vanished. Behind the window casing is only blank white marble.

The workspace is shaking.
You invoke the light
You invoke the light icon, and the environment shifts around you.

You are underground, by the echoes and the irregular rock underfoot. But the space is lost in darkness. A chill stream trickles past, and the faintest phosphorescence trickles with it. Beyond arm's reach, however, you see only black.

Your workspace stands beside you. Inside it the six icons whirl.

As the Cave forms around you, the glowing moth flutters up into its high, dark recesses. Its light shines softly on gleaming limestone.

And on the bats. One flutters by and nips the moth right out of the air. Whoops.

The moth shimmers, desperately seeking another form, one less vulnerable. It breaks up into pixels -- and reforms as a fat snowflake, drifting around the upper regions of the Cave. The bats, apparently uninterested in bits of ice, now ignore it.
You press the heat
You invoke the heat icon, and the environment changes into a new form.

You stand in a long, low hall of smoke-darkened timbers. The floor is earth, benches line the walls, and you are washed by heat from the blazing fire-pit that runs the hall's entire length.

At the south end the hall rises, and an enormous wooden chest stands on an earthen mound. The chest is open and empty.

The cube that is your workspace rests nearby. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The old tree has been uprooted; it lies dead on the west side of the hall. Its limbs are bare, except for a single gold leaf lying against the wood.

The workspace is shaking.

The snowflake whirls in the fire-pit's smoky updrafts, as the Longhall shimmers into place. In moments the flake is losing its luster.

Again it shimmers away. This time it sublimates into a smoke-ring, which drifts above you in cheerful disregard of the heat.
You invoke the heat
You poke the heat icon, but it is already active.
You invoke the pressure
You invoke the pressure icon, and the environment transforms around you.

White marble rises in smooth, heavy columns to an arching vault. The walls are worked in geometric traceries; a rich red carpet runs up the room's length, to the brass pipes which stand at its north end. Air throbs from the pipes and thunders quietly across the chamber.

To the south stands a graceful marble altar, which supports a small open offering box.

Your workspace is a squat cube in the center of the room. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The window is broken, but most of the glass is gone.

The smoke ring is torn this way and that way in the Church's turbulent gusts of air. It begins to tatter... and then shimmers into a new form.

A long silk thread now rides the air currents. It swirls back and forth, curling and twisting, but never falling.
Press weight
You invoke the weight icon, and the environment shifts into a new form.

Shelves loom here in rank and file. On them, arms are arrayed in tidy rows: swords, knives, spears, and weapons of every other description. More blades hang overhead, point-down and silently menacing.

The bookcase still stands, but its doors have been torn open; they hang in pieces.

Your workspace rests by one wall. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The workspace is shaking.

The silk thread slides among the hanging blades, or tries to. It tangles, is caught, and the many edges pull at it...

The thread dissolves into pixels, and becomes a miniature silver kite, which slides dextrously between the blades.
Invoke charge
You invoke the charge icon, and the environment changes around you.

This square tower is built of granite blocks braced by high iron beams. The roof is a broad sweep of lead-framed glass, hammered by the roaring rain outside.

A complex apparatus dominates the room: a heavy brass tank, surmounted by copper and bubbling glass tubing. Wires drape from the roof down to the apparatus, hanging every which way.

Your workspace sits in the center of the lab. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The silver kite bobs near the wires, and jerks as a spark leaps across to it. It tries to slide away; but a flash of lightning sears the sky, and the room's air grows prickly and electric. Sparks dance from the kite's tail, and the wires pull it closer --

The kite shimmers away... into a gleam of pure light that plays across the roof.
Invoke form
You invoke the form icon, and the environment transforms into a new form.

You stand on mossy earth, surrounded by the silhouettes of dark and massive standing stones. It is night. But the sky shows no stars at all.

Your workspace sits in the center of the circle. Inside it the six icons whirl.

The workspace is shaking.

There is no roof now, only the night sky... and the gleam of light shines upwards, unimpeded, into the darkness.

You can still see it there. And then, as your eyes adjust, you can see more. Sparks of light, infinitely distant. The stars are out.

...How did you miss it? The starlight illuminates a shape at your feet. It's a small, perfect model of a room: your workspace. Your usual, habitual workspace -- not this fluid environment.
You examine model
It's a small glass model of an office workspace. Every detail within is perfect. You see immediately that the model room is an archetype of metasemantics.
You examine the workspace
(the model room)
It's a small glass model of an office workspace. Every detail within is perfect.
You take it
You take the model room and compile. It shrinks obligingly into a small icon.

The workspace is shaking.
You put the icon in the workspace
(the metasemantics icon in the workspace)
The metasemantics icon shudders in your grip. Pushing it into the workspace is like forcing it through gravel, but you lean into the force. After several moments of struggle, the icon is in place. The world changes...

This is your workspace. All your furniture and things are set up just as you like them. The exit is to the south.

The cube representing your workspace sits on a desk. Inside it, the seven icons vibrate wildly.

You look around. This, too, is magnificent -- in a quiet way. The program has condensed your style of interaction into a tangible metaphor... a perfect rendition of the way you work.
You examine the furniture
Your stuff is all just as you expect.

The workspace cube buzzes angrily. Really, what is going on with that? It must be some kind of physical simulation fault. You'll sort it out tomorrow.
Go south
You turn, and reach for the exit of your virtual environment.

There is a wild crash behind you. You spin. The workspace cube lies in splinters, sprayed across your desk, tinkling to the floor. Above it are whirling seven -- forces -- that grow, and become more potent --

Then the walls are splintering, too.

Nothing surrounds you. The virtual space is absolutely blank... but no longer unbounded. You are unable to move, or to escape.

You wonder if someone will come looking.
You examine the desk
Your stuff is all just as you expect.

This is a good stopping point, however. You should leave and report in to your client.
You examine cube
The workspace is represented by a clear, waist-high cube. Within it are the metasemantics icon, the form icon, the weight icon, the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all vibrating wildly around.

The workspace vibrates violently.
You get the cube
You are already in your workspace. This is it. This is where you work.
You look at the desk
Your stuff is all just as you expect.

The workspace shudders irately.
You look at the icons
Within the workspace you see the metasemantics icon, the form icon, the weight icon, the charge icon, the light icon, the heat icon, and the pressure icon, all vibrating wildly around.
Inventory
You are carrying nothing.

The workspace shakes dangerously.
You look around
This is your workspace. All your furniture and things are set up just as you like them. The exit is to the south.

The cube representing your workspace sits on a desk. Inside it, the seven icons vibrate wildly.
Wait
Time passes.

The workspace rattles violently.
You get the metasemantics icon
(invoke the metasemantics icon)
You poke the metasemantics icon, but it is already active.

The workspace vibrates irately.
Invoke form
Your collection is complete; you feel like you've done enough for the day's work.
Go south
You turn, and reach for the exit of your virtual environment.

There is a wild crash behind you. You spin. The workspace cube lies in splinters, sprayed across your desk, tinkling to the floor. Above it are whirling seven -- forces -- that grow, and become more potent --

Then the walls are splintering, too.

Nothing surrounds you. The virtual space is absolutely blank... but no longer unbounded. You are unable to move, or to escape.

You wonder if someone will come looking.