text: [Themes: Science Fiction, science fiction]
  
  > Go downward
  Unlike the upper levels of the Embassy, the basement is built for practical purposes, and resembles the inside of a concrete cigar box. It continues to the south, dimly lit and cold.
  
  Along the west wall, a chute from above empties into a large metal container.
  
  > Search container
  You push up the lid to reveal a receipt and a data disk. Well, well, well. Valenti may have been a criminal and an ass, but at least he was incompetent.
  
  Very interesting.
  
  > Disk
  receipt: Taken.
  data disk: Taken.
  
  > look at the receipt
  The receipt appears to say disguise/costume/funny clothing for proposal-of-marriage white large.
  
  Mentally you check off "find jacket receipt in the recycling chute (Valenti's suggestion)" on your list of remaining tasks. You run over the things various people have decided you ought to do:
  give the jacket receipt to Liam
  acquire vaccine from the research facility (HC's orders)
  wear white jacket (Valenti's idea)
  find a working float unit
  summon Liam and show him the gift box
  meet with Ambassador Aylene to present your gift
  
  > examine disk
  An Earth-style computer disk an inch and a half on a side, and labeled "JOURNAL, TRANSLATIONS" in spiky unfriendly handwriting.
  
  > put the disk in the computer
  You put the data disk into the spare data slot.
  
  > consult computer about the journal
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  --: Valenti's data disk contains a variety of data entries, article annotations, translations of this and that, etc., and is more easily approached by trying to extract a single topic of information than by straight reading. Hence the need to look things up.
  
  > consult the computer about the gifts
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  Gift day: Three times per local year you are expected to exchange gifts with a representative of the Aleheart government. These days are keyed to the anniversary of first Earth contact and are not celebrated by the rest of the population in general.
  
  gift symbolism: draft proposal: According to the etiquette files, those proposing marriage or cooperative scientific ventures may do so by creating a sample of the kind of project they hope to undertake. In the case of marriage, these are usually representations of the offspring that might be engineered from the two parents; for purely business relationships, other kinds of model, sample, or technical proposal are appropriate. A superior looking to employ or adopt an inferior may give a sample of the kind of work the inferior will be expected to produce as a condition of the employment.
  
  gift symbolism: personal token: Etiquette files reveal that an object personally significant to the giver is an appropriate gift when establishing a relationship of friendship in which no joint work or project is intended. Also sometimes used for marriages not intended to produce offspring.
  
  gift symbolism: knife: Apparently, according to the etiquette files, any edged instrument is a symbol of restrictions, living under strict controls imposed by someone else, and dating back to clinical trials in which new genetic lines deemed to be failing their intended purpose were slaughtered with a knife. This practice is now called flushing and does not require a blade, but the associations remain.
  
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  six months ago: ...Mealy-mouthed third-rate translation of a traditional courtship greeting. Not sure whether High Command is so dumb that they don't know this, or so dumb that they don't tell their emissaries. Not sure which would be dumber. What do they think Gift Day is about? Hostess presents?
  
  > consult the computer about the red
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  color symbolism: red: Red is the color of superior power, requiring relatively expensive dyes. It is worn by parties offering conditional adoption.
  
  Conditional adoption: An agreement by which one party becomes responsible for the needs of another party, in exchange for some concessions -- usually part or all of that party's work. Somewhere between hiring and slavery. Usually offered with red clothing and a token of the sort of work required. Cannot seriously be offered by someone without the credible appearance of power, however.
  
  There isn't any personal data available from logs or annotations.
  
  > consult the computer about the white
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  color symbolism: white: White is the color of balance, being the color of the rings in summer sky. It is worn to offer marriage, equitable business, or cohabitation in shared house under non-hierarchical terms.
  
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  15 days ago: Got suited for white jacket today for wedding proposal. Not quite sure what the tailor thought. Charged it to personal funds since do not want it on HC bill.
  
  > consult the computer about the black
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  color symbolism: black: The color of termination, worn to refuse an agreement; to propose corporate splits or divorce.
  
  There isn't any personal data available from logs or annotations.
  
  > consult the computer about grey
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  color symbolism: grey: Grey is considered neutral and signifies a lack of decision.
  
  There isn't any personal data available from logs or annotations.
  
  > consult the computer about the purple
  The computer beeps irritably: NO RESULTS FOUND. PLEASE REPHRASE AND TRY AGAIN.
  
  > consult the computer about the widget
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  six months ago: Aylene gave me a live rock! Which, in theory, calculates what everyone thinks of me, to many decimal places of accuracy (!). Don't think she realized what negative reinforcement this would be. Can't help experimenting with ways to make numbers go up and down. Bet I could crash all three to zero if I ran through the Solarium bareassed. Apparently the thing corresponds to a portion of the alien brain. I admit (if only to myself) that I find the concept disgusting. But I admit a lot to myself lately. I gather my predecessor talked to herself as well. I need some recordings of human speech or may go insane...
  
  three months ago: I tried asking her whether she can factor in my thoughts the same way her little live rock tracks everyone else's. She said no, I don't broadcast. She looked tremendously uncomfortable. I cannot say how smug this makes me.
  
  > consult the computer about Aylene
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  eight months ago: Met my counterpart, the ambassador Aylene, today. Frankly, High Command should have left Yamashita here -- they probably did wonderfully having tea parties together and comparing fashion notes. Have never met another human -- no, strike that, because she isn't human. Have never met any person with so little emotional affect in speech and behavior. Not sure what gene modifications they made to her, but it is frightening.
  
  five months ago: Coming to terms with the bowing. When Aylene bows, when she smiles, when she says polite formulas, the etiquette system doesn't seem stupid. She's not bowing to show how well-bred she is. It's a liturgy of respect. You bow to show that you respect someone but also to remind yourself of this fact. Sincerity can work inward as well as outward. You don't have to like someone to treat them well. If you practice this sometimes leads to liking.
  
  Then again, sometimes not.
  
  five weeks ago: Is it possible that Liam is jealous of me because of Aylene? I find him lurking around after she's been here, looking sniffy and grim. Naturally Aylene's live rock doesn't offer any sort of data analysis function. That might be dangerously useful.
  
  four weeks ago: Another long, long talk with Aylene. She may be coming around on the cohabitation idea, of shared resources and an integrated society. But there are concessions involved on both sides, and she is more afraid of her people than I am of mine. There's no way they're going to be able to live on Earth and preserve their daintiness about eating, for instance. Which in my opinion would be no bad thing, but one can hardly say that...
  
  28 days ago: Naturally after I read that I asked Aylene about it (if we're modeling our alliance on a marriage I'd rather not have "marriage" mean "eugenics program"). She says in practice there's hardly any "flushing". I still have some serious questions about this, but I think inasmuch as it applies to the current occasion we're looking rather at a joint stewardship of the resources available to both planets. HC should be able to live with that. I don't know whether the general population would be so enthusiastic, but the general population seems to think it's a point of principle not to make any concessions or in fact live in the real world in any way.
  
  25 days ago: And, well, the personal component of all this. I very nearly put it to Aylene as an offer based on symbolism and political expediency. She would have understood that, but... I would like to marry her, in truth, and not simply as a means to an end. She was silent after I raised the possibility. I think I went about it wrong, but it's damned difficult to know what "right" looks like here. How the hell would I know?
  
  24 days ago: She won't talk to me today.
  
  23 days ago: They voted her out. I cannot believe they voted her out. What kind of employment system is that, anyway?
  
  5 days ago: News from Kruger: I am out. No explanation. Replacement already en route. Pack bags, prepare to leave. Can't bring myself to contact Aylene.
  
  > consult the computer about the SOC
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  six months ago: Aylene gave me a live rock! Which, in theory, calculates what everyone thinks of me, to many decimal places of accuracy (!). Don't think she realized what negative reinforcement this would be. Can't help experimenting with ways to make numbers go up and down. Bet I could crash all three to zero if I ran through the Solarium bareassed. Apparently the thing corresponds to a portion of the alien brain. I admit (if only to myself) that I find the concept disgusting. But I admit a lot to myself lately. I gather my predecessor talked to herself as well. I need some recordings of human speech or may go insane...
  
  > go to the west
  The floor of the Receiving Room is decorated with broken glass. It's not conducive to strolling around without a float unit.
  
  > Time
  It is 1:31 pm -- here, anyhow.
  
  > Go east
  You stand at the western end of a shallow rectangular pool -- no doubt part of the reason the air is softer and more humid here than it was outside. The garden paths open at the east end of the pool; the Embassy is west, at your back.
  
  If you look down, you catch the reflection in the surface, and a number of small red fish swimming around, in formation, making symbols which you cannot read.
  
  > Go east
  You wander between plots: what catches your eye this time is a writing-desk-tree, spreading to a flat surface at about three feet.
  
  The Grand Solarium is an enormous dome with an oval roof of glass and grown metalwork. Inside is a botanical garden, which, on this planet, is a kind of art museum. Each plot displays some invented shrub that would be illegal on Earth.
  
  The southern end of the dome, where they grow edible crops, is hidden by a decorative screen of hanging flowers. The garden also continues to the east; away to the west is the front of the Earth Embassy, now your home.
  
  A double set of insulating doors leads north to the outdoors.
  
  > Go north
  You head out of the Solarium and down a brief slope, into the clearing at the center of town.
  
  The street runs north/south, so that you have an uninterrupted view of Cordia Peak, and the leading edge of the glacier at the northern edge of town.
  
  Both sides of the street are built up. A substantial building of metal and glass lies to the east, houses to the west.
  
  The ring system is mostly obscured by the grand solarium to the south, accessible through the insulating doors. The solarium is a huge domed structure to keep in as much heat and warmth as possible; the Earth embassy is inside.
  
  At the center of the open space here is a monument shaped like a tusk or tooth.
  
  > look at the monument
  It has look of force-grown bone, monolithic and taller than a man.
  
  The symbolic lettering of the current language has been painted on the side, but the original carving is in Chinese and English: "To those who, in the name of the Company and for the advancement of knowledge, were killed, modified incorrectly, or born unfit."
  
  > Go east
  A repulsion field prevents you from entering the building without the proper security device.
  
  > go south
  The Grand Solarium is an enormous dome with an oval roof of glass and grown metalwork. Inside is a botanical garden, which, on this planet, is a kind of art museum. Each plot displays some invented shrub that would be illegal on Earth.
  
  The southern end of the dome, where they grow edible crops, is hidden by a decorative screen of hanging flowers. The garden also continues to the east; away to the west is the front of the Earth Embassy, now your home.
  
  A double set of insulating doors leads north to the outdoors.
  
  > Go south
  You approach the curtain of vine; it draws away, then begins to repel you. Your face feels hot, as though sunburnt. You step away.
  
  > examine the vine
  Flowers with all the color bred out, translucent buds clustered on grey vines. They separate you from the southern part of the dome.
  
  > think
  You run over the things various people have decided you ought to do: give the jacket receipt to Liam
  acquire vaccine from the research facility (HC's orders)
  wear white jacket (Valenti's idea)
  find a working float unit
  summon Liam and show him the gift box
  meet with Ambassador Aylene to present your gift
  
  > squeeze the rock
  The surface has a give to it, and it squeaks once. Small regretful letters read: AIDE CURRENTLY OUT OF RANGE. Maybe in the embassy proper, then.
  
  > go west
  You wander between plots: what catches your eye this time is a wispy groundcover exuding fog.
  
  You stand at the eastern end of a shallow rectangular pool -- no doubt part of the reason the air is softer and more humid here than it was outside. The Embassy is just west of here, at the far end of the pool.
  
  If you look down, you catch the reflection in the surface, and a number of small red fish swimming around, in formation, making symbols which you cannot read.
  
  > squeeze the rock
  The surface has a give to it, and it squeaks once. COMING, reads the skin lettering tersely.
  
  Liam slips through the locked barrier from the south.
  
  > show the receipt to Liam
  Liam takes the receipt numbly and looks at it, then back at you. "You are... seeking this apparel?" he asks. You nod curtly in a manner you hope suggests decisiveness rather than an inability to speak his language.
  
  The silence becomes uncomfortable. You realize after a moment what has changed: he is now floating at the same height as you, looking you in the eye directly. For some reason he is not at all pleased with this request.
  
  Mentally you check off "give the jacket receipt to Liam" on your list of remaining tasks. You run over the things various people have decided you ought to do:
  acquire vaccine from the research facility (HC's orders)
  wear white jacket (Valenti's idea)
  find a working float unit
  summon Liam and show him the gift box
  meet with Ambassador Aylene to present your gift
  
  A moment later -- more quickly than you expected -- he returns with the white jacket, and something else: a pale pink fruit. He puts the fruit into your hand firmly so that it is squeezed.
  
  > examine the fruit
  It is one of those recording fruits into which information is put.
  
  The pink fruit hisses sparks and juice, but then it begins to play, a projection hovering in the middle of the air:
  
  Liam is standing in the foyer next to Aylene. The Ambassador has ordered a white jacket, he says.
  
  It is not a surprise. Her hands are clasped in front of her, the sleeves almost covering them. We are discussing a treaty of cohabitation.
  
  Liam frowns. It pleases me that they admit they are wrong to exile us from Earth...
  
  But you prefer not to mix cultures, Aylene finishes.
  
  I would prefer that they beg us to return and we refuse.
  
  She smiles affectionately. Like an angry lover! But Valenti has not guessed how you felt toward him when he arrived here.
  
  > show the fruit to Liam
  Liam is entirely occupied with the recording he wants to show you, and you find you have a hard time looking away either.
  
  In the recording, Liam turns pink. Unlikely that he would guess any social thing that is not told to him three times in English! And I only admired -- he seemed to have energy, much purpose.
  
  He has. Her own tone is wistful. But I know you, Liam. You are not unjust to the Earth folk because Valenti disappoints you. If the right thing is cohabitation, you judge the possibility fairly.
  
  What good will come of it? he asks. They are not-- The subtitling flickers here, flashing through a half-dozen words: social nice adjusted sane-minded obedient easily-understood. They do not design new lines. They will probably forbid us designing ourselves.
  
  Aylene answers: In a year ice will break the dam and the Solarium wall. We will all take the train to Tanhua to be retired. We have few choices.
  
  > examine the fruit
  It is one of those recording fruits into which information is put.
  
  The TY line are bred for winter survival. Fur, hibernation, slow metabolism. He runs a finger over the fuzz on the backs of his wrists.
  
  I've followed your designer's experiments, Aylene says. They move too slowly.
  
  We wasted time on Earth compatibility, he replies, bitter. I commented this on design proposals, but everyone is mad with wanting to go Home. Earth songs sung again, the Sanctuary of Earth plants restored, people laugh with teeth showing. Does Valenti like the almost-humans? No, he takes no interest. And if we do not go to Earth, they are trouble -- retrograde stock, badly socialized, expensive to feed.
  
  > examine the fruit
  It is one of those recording fruits into which information is put.
  
  She turns to him abruptly. Be careful. When I am removed after Gift Day, you will be Ambassador.
  
  His mouth opens, but he recovers. Then let Earth also send a different speaker. Valenti has no respect for us. I cannot talk to him.
  
  He has no respect for groups, only individuals. You see the bad; there is also good. He does not expect us to sacrifice any lines of stock--
  
  If we go to Earth, the TY are useless. If we stay, the Earth-compatibles...
  
  She puts up a hand, hushing him. Valenti is at the door. His eyes go to Aylene; he moves towards her, barely sparing a glance for Liam, who smiles wryly.
  
  The recording flickers out.
  
  The images over, Liam seems to feel that you have seen whatever he wanted you to see, so he puts the white jacket you demanded over your arm.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a puffy white jacket
  a pale pink fruit
  a silver kiddush cup
  some fuzzy bunny slippers
  a yellow paper note
  a mail packet
  an empty gift box
  a handheld computer (in which is a data disk)
  a grey widget saying SOC 13.08113, POW 20.7639, INT 11.61016
  a magnificent ensemble of flowing scarlet robe, chronometer, grey undersuit, shoes, and socks
  
  Liam waits for your instructions, though with a faint air of impatience.
  
  > look at the white jacket
  The jacket is loosely cut, as you would expect, with floatpins throughout. The cuffs have two narrow stripes of gold and red, like a uniform. It looks very fresh and crisp. Possibly Valenti never wore it, and that's why he didn't bother to keep it. It looks as though you might be able to wear it, though you may look strange.
  
  Liam waits for your instructions, though with a faint air of impatience.
  
  > look at the slippers
  They have rabbit ears and are a collector's item from before the plague years. They are also pink. Your friend Jane gave them to you, motivated by inscrutable Jane-like humor; they still bear the stamp of Salvage and Reclamation on the soles. Presumably your felonious dockworker recognized their worth and decided it was better not to steal them, but under the circumstances you'd rather have some of the clothing you actually intended to wear.
  
  Liam slips through the locked barrier to the south.
  
  > consult the computer about the research center
  The computer shows you how to go to the research facility. You'd start with east, from here.
  
  > consult the computer about the symbols
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  gift symbolism: draft proposal: According to the etiquette files, those proposing marriage or cooperative scientific ventures may do so by creating a sample of the kind of project they hope to undertake. In the case of marriage, these are usually representations of the offspring that might be engineered from the two parents; for purely business relationships, other kinds of model, sample, or technical proposal are appropriate. A superior looking to employ or adopt an inferior may give a sample of the kind of work the inferior will be expected to produce as a condition of the employment.
  
  gift symbolism: personal token: Etiquette files reveal that an object personally significant to the giver is an appropriate gift when establishing a relationship of friendship in which no joint work or project is intended. Also sometimes used for marriages not intended to produce offspring.
  
  gift symbolism: knife: Apparently, according to the etiquette files, any edged instrument is a symbol of restrictions, living under strict controls imposed by someone else, and dating back to clinical trials in which new genetic lines deemed to be failing their intended purpose were slaughtered with a knife. This practice is now called flushing and does not require a blade, but the associations remain.
  
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  six months ago: Have been making progress with the translations of etiquette guide... much appears to center upon proposals of various kinds. I have gathered the formal proposal system they're using on us is not (contrary to what they might say) a frequent feature of daily life for them either, but is rather some archaic bit of hazing they got out of mothballs. As a test, maybe. Or maybe because the symbols and terms of it are actually, God help us, simpler than communicating all the nuances in their language.
  
  seven weeks ago: Liam told me about the flint knife in the Earth Sanctuary. Turns out it wasn't brought by us (always thought that a really odd thing to send) but they brought it here from Earth themselves. There's some sort of gloomy symbolism there which, as usual, he couldn't bring himself to explain directly. A less useful assistant would be difficult to find.
  
  25 days ago: And, well, the personal component of all this. I very nearly put it to Aylene as an offer based on symbolism and political expediency. She would have understood that, but... I would like to marry her, in truth, and not simply as a means to an end. She was silent after I raised the possibility. I think I went about it wrong, but it's damned difficult to know what "right" looks like here. How the hell would I know?
  
  > look at the symbols
  They have red-gold scales and fat round bodies, and are about two inches long. The formations are symbols from the syllabary, but you can't read them.
  
  > translate the symbols
  With a computer, you can read the writing system here, but that is about all.
  
  > go to the east
  You wander between plots: what catches your eye this time is a thorn-tree with black fruit smelling of oil.
  
  The Grand Solarium is an enormous dome with an oval roof of glass and grown metalwork. Inside is a botanical garden, which, on this planet, is a kind of art museum. Each plot displays some invented shrub that would be illegal on Earth.
  
  The southern end of the dome, where they grow edible crops, is hidden by a decorative screen of hanging flowers. The garden also continues to the east; away to the west is the front of the Earth Embassy, now your home.
  
  A double set of insulating doors leads north to the outdoors.
  
  > consult computer about research center
  The computer shows you how to go to the research facility. You'd start with north, from here.
  
  > Go north
  You head out of the Solarium and down a brief slope, into the clearing at the center of town.
  
  The street runs north/south, so that you have an uninterrupted view of Cordia Peak, and the leading edge of the glacier at the northern edge of town.
  
  Both sides of the street are built up. A substantial building of metal and glass lies to the east, houses to the west.
  
  The ring system is mostly obscured by the grand solarium to the south, accessible through the insulating doors. The solarium is a huge domed structure to keep in as much heat and warmth as possible; the Earth embassy is inside.
  
  At the center of the open space here is a monument shaped like a tusk or tooth.
  
  > look at the building
  Which do you mean, the substantial building or the houses?
  
  > look at the substantial building
  Large enough to contain hundreds of apartment dwellings, or to provide considerable office space. There is a sign on the wall.
  
  > go north
  You walk along the crunching gravel for some time, noticing here and there a few gravel walkways off to the east and west, but nothing open to visitors. There are fewer Colonists at this end of town.
  
  To the northwest is a public building with a deep portico; to the east, one with a conical roof. The others are private houses, but, except one or two, they don't look lived in. There is a general atmosphere of neglect.
  
  The street continues south into the heart of town, or north towards the mountain and the glacier. A track for a floating train cuts southeast between the buildings.
  
  The rings in the southern sky are partly obscured by the buildings on the horizon, but are still bright enough to catch the eye.
  
  > go to the north-west
  Once this was a kind of hothouse, but the glacier has knocked out loadbearing portions of the north wall. The roof is buckled at that end and gives a view of patchy sky; only a steel scaffold prevents it from falling in completely. Gusts of warm air from the wall vents quickly turn to cloud.
  
  A pamphlet lies discarded near kiosks that line the west wall. The bulk of the area, though, is full of plant lines, growing on frames as in a vineyard.
  
  > read pamphlet
  The pamphlet appears to say Greetings noble companion. Welcome to data compression and storage tree! Designed by (long string of letters and numbers, constituting some colonist's unique personal identification).
  
  Data compression tree analyzes/presses recording and finds correspondences/similarities/relations to known/studied narrative/story structures! Content re-expressed as combination of known/studied structures! Output significantly more compact than original!
  
  SCIENTIFIC mode best suited for compacting very long meetings with scientific content into brief precis; STORY mode captures plot events; SOCIAL mode includes both dialogue and emotion-projection data. More advanced version of Data compression tree available for large projects -- contact designer!
  
  (Output fruit has similar function to other recording fruits. Squeeze output fruit to display content!).
  
  > examine the frames
  They're recordings: the fruits store data. Or they did. The skins are frosted over now.
  
  > get the fruits
  That's fixed in place.
  
  > squeeze the fruits
  You pinch one of the fruits at random. A tiny woman appears in hologram, singing a soprano part. Her voice is staticky and broken. The flesh of the fruit is bruised from being pinched when it was half-frozen.
  
  > enter the kiosk
  The kiosk is no larger than a contamination testing booth back on Earth. It briefly evokes the old fear that somehow, despite every reasonable precaution, this time you will turn out to be infected, and you'd have to tell your mother, and she would be so upset. That would be the worst thing: having to tell your mother.
  
  The only thing of note here is a metal box, mounted on the wall at about shoulder-height, with a bonzai-sized tree growing out of the top.
  
  > examine the tree
  (the tree machine)
  A machine titled DATA COMPRESSION AND STORAGE. There is a miniature tree growing out of the top, naked of foliage. On the front of the metal box are green and blue push-knobs, and a movable bronze pointer.
  
  On the left side of the machine there is a funnel, the right size for inserting a recording fruit.
  
  > examine the pointer
  The four settings of the pointer are ORIGINAL, SCIENTIFIC, STORY, SOCIAL.
  
  The pointer is currently set to original.
  
  > put the pink fruit in the funnel
  The pale pink fruit rolls down inside the machine. There is a whirr like your mother's juicer on the first day of a new diet.
  
  > set the pointer to the story
  The pointer turns with a heavy click. The selector now points to story.
  
  > set the pointer to scientific
  The pointer turns with a heavy click. The selector now points to scientific.
  
  > set the pointer to social
  The pointer turns with a heavy click. The selector now points to social.
  
  > get the kumquat
  Taken.
  
  > examine it
  There is a symbol reading STORY COMPRESSION on the skin of the kumquat.
  
  > Exit
  (heading east, since that is the only direction available)
  
  Once this was a kind of hothouse, but the glacier has knocked out loadbearing portions of the north wall. The roof is buckled at that end and gives a view of patchy sky; only a steel scaffold prevents it from falling in completely. Gusts of warm air from the wall vents quickly turn to cloud.
  
  A pamphlet lies discarded near kiosks that line the west wall. The bulk of the area, though, is full of plant lines, growing on frames as in a vineyard.
  
  > go outside
  You will have to be more specific about which direction you want to go. From here, you can head southeast and west.
  
  > squeeze the kumquat
  The projection plays, bringing on stage Aylene and Liam in similar, bright-colored costumes.
  
  Aylene sings: I AM PLEASED TO TELL YOU I AM BEING WED.
  
  Liam: MY DEAR FRIEND, IT IS THE PUREST DELIGHT TO HEAR IT. WHO IS THE FORTUNATE GROOM?
  
  Aylene: IT IS VALENTI! THE HANDSOME AND MOST ADMIRABLE VALENTI! THE HONORABLE AND WELL-GROOMED VALENTI OF SUPERIOR GENETIC INHERITANCE! (And so on in this mode for some stanzas, endowing Valenti with such virtues as reinforced femurs and multiple rows of sharklike teeth.)
  
  Liam: THIS CANNOT BE!
  
  Aylene: WHY NOT?
  
  Liam: THIS CANNOT BE!
  
  Aylene: I ASK AGAIN: WHY NOT?
  
  Liam: HE WAS PROMISED TO ME! OH PERFIDIOUS WRETCHED MAN, OH WRETCHED LYING MAN, OH (etc. for a number of verses), AND WHAT IS MORE I WOULD BE DELIGHTED TO LIVE WITHOUT HIM, AND I WISH YOU JOY OF HIM, AND MAY YOU BOTH PERISH OF THE POX
  
  Then the compression system gave up, apparently, because the music splutters out and the antagonists stand glaring at one another, their sequined sleeves glittering in the faux light, until the projection stops.
  
  > go to the south-east
  To the northwest is a public building with a deep portico; to the east, one with a conical roof. The others are private houses, but, except one or two, they don't look lived in. There is a general atmosphere of neglect.
  
  The street continues south into the heart of town, or north towards the mountain and the glacier. A track for a floating train cuts southeast between the buildings.
  
  The rings in the southern sky are partly obscured by the buildings on the horizon, but are still bright enough to catch the eye.
  
  > go to the east
  A grand, hexagonal room with a tiled floor of intricate design. Around the outside of the room runs a bench, divided by carving into seats -- perhaps ten seats on a side -- and there is a label on each seat, except for a few blank ones left at the south-east side of the room.
  
  But it can't have been used for some time. The glass is knocked out of the windows, the tiles broken.
  
  > read the labels
  The seating label appears to say A3 representative... TY representative... RA....
  
  > consult the computer about Liam
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  Liam: All that's available is a brief dossier about Liam's former employment and job rankings, which are cryptic in format and convey almost nothing to you.
  
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  seven months ago: God. Where to begin? Liam would not be assigned this -- as I discover -- extremely low-ranking position as my assistant if he had turned out to be good at any of the traditional skills, such as manufacturing birds that fly backwards, or engineering climatic disasters. He is sensitive, petty, and desperate for my approval, since only my approval will improve his rank and get him out of here. He has some good points, such as tolerance for boredom, but this is not enough to prevent me wanting to strangle him.
  
  seven weeks ago: Liam told me about the flint knife in the Earth Sanctuary. Turns out it wasn't brought by us (always thought that a really odd thing to send) but they brought it here from Earth themselves. There's some sort of gloomy symbolism there which, as usual, he couldn't bring himself to explain directly. A less useful assistant would be difficult to find.
  
  five weeks ago: Is it possible that Liam is jealous of me because of Aylene? I find him lurking around after she's been here, looking sniffy and grim. Naturally Aylene's live rock doesn't offer any sort of data analysis function. That might be dangerously useful.
  
  22 days ago: Fight with Liam. Not my finest hour. Sometimes am almost glad they're getting me out of here. Filched the recording, that not being something I want anyone else to have a copy of. And I used to have such high ideas about what diplomacy could be.
  
  > consult the computer about the lines
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  two months ago: Funny sort of personal conversation with A. Turns out that she is descended from Peter and Charla herself -- the whole A line is. This is such a strange thought to me. Apparently they're among the most human-like of the remaining lines (though with certain obligatory modifications, of course), which I suppose is why she was assigned to deal with us.
  
  > Exit
  (heading west, since that is the only direction available)
  
  To the northwest is a public building with a deep portico; to the east, one with a conical roof. The others are private houses, but, except one or two, they don't look lived in. There is a general atmosphere of neglect.
  
  The street continues south into the heart of town, or north towards the mountain and the glacier. A track for a floating train cuts southeast between the buildings.
  
  The rings in the southern sky are partly obscured by the buildings on the horizon, but are still bright enough to catch the eye.
  
  > look at the track
  The tracks run away between the houses, heading southeast towards southern settlements and eventually to Tanhua. They stop at the edge of Broad Street, so this must be the end of the line for any supplies or visitors being brought up from the south -- though presumably there is a larger station and a proper loading and unloading dock elsewhere.
  
  > go to the south
  After a few minutes of walking, you reach an area with Colonists around. You carefully don't stare at them as they carefully do not stare at you. But from the sides of your eyes you watch how they float a few inches off the ground; how they do not touch things.
  
  The street runs north/south, so that you have an uninterrupted view of Cordia Peak, and the leading edge of the glacier at the northern edge of town.
  
  Both sides of the street are built up. A substantial building of metal and glass lies to the east, houses to the west.
  
  The ring system is mostly obscured by the grand solarium to the south, accessible through the insulating doors. The solarium is a huge domed structure to keep in as much heat and warmth as possible; the Earth embassy is inside.
  
  At the center of the open space here is a monument shaped like a tusk or tooth.
  
  > go south
  The Grand Solarium is an enormous dome with an oval roof of glass and grown metalwork. Inside is a botanical garden, which, on this planet, is a kind of art museum. Each plot displays some invented shrub that would be illegal on Earth.
  
  The southern end of the dome, where they grow edible crops, is hidden by a decorative screen of hanging flowers. The garden also continues to the east; away to the west is the front of the Earth Embassy, now your home.
  
  A double set of insulating doors leads north to the outdoors.
  
  > Go east
  This area is set aside from the rest of the Solarium by a stone wall. There are no engineered plants that you recognize, only green grass. It smells like the Chicago suburbs in August.
  
  At the center of the grass is a hexagonal stone dais large enough to elevate one person above the crowd.
  
  A few Colonists stand facing the center with the silent attitude of worshippers.
  
  > examine the dais
  It is carved. It's also old. Along one edge of the hexagon it reads (in English): "RIP Peter Long, Director of High-Risk Research".
  
  > consult computer about Peter
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  four months ago: More research. My Charla seems to have been married to Peter Long. Wish I had a clearer idea of what Peter Long was up to.
  
  four months ago: So. Put together the archive files on Charla and her companion Peter Long here. I have what appear to be six versions of the same events, recorded in distinctly stylized and different forms -- including what looks like an opera. (Or some perversion thereof.) I'd say they were literary reworkings but no, they seem actually to be a convention-based compression of some original, now-lost data recording. The weird thing is that they don't all end the same way -- apparently the conventions of recording are allowed to override, for instance, matters of fact.
  
  four months ago: Oh my. Cross-comparing the data and the compression algorithm information I could find I think I have worked my way to a fuzzy but more-accurate version of the original. Spent a good while in the archive building messing with the kiosks. Got to talk to A about this, find out if it is really true. If it is, we may end scuttling the whole treaty if I report what I found on Charla and Peter Long. Long is really the issue; it's just our bad bad bad bad bad luck that Charla's relatives are still alive and, worse, pushy about finding out what became of her.
  
  four months ago: Amazing it never occurred to me to wonder exactly what happened when they lost Earth contact here. Peter Long's solution seems obvious. In retrospect.
  
  three months ago: Long talk with A, and she essentially confirmed for me what I had already pieced together, though with some bits that I hadn't quite understood about Peter and Charla. And then I got rid of the recordings. The destruction of data, a slippery slope. This was much bigger than getting rid of Yamashita's correspondence disc but it felt less awful, somehow. This is something I cannot, cannot report back if I want these people saved. And increasingly I do. Even my infuriating assistant.
  
  two months ago: Funny sort of personal conversation with A. Turns out that she is descended from Peter and Charla herself -- the whole A line is. This is such a strange thought to me. Apparently they're among the most human-like of the remaining lines (though with certain obligatory modifications, of course), which I suppose is why she was assigned to deal with us.
  
  27 days ago: Went to the Earth Sanctuary and heard a few songs. Strangely moving. One of them was in fact about old Peter. Felt like it was the play to catch the conscience, etc., except of course in this case I'm not the murderer and it's everyone else's conscience that really ought to be bothered, not mine. It was a good song, though. They got out the flint knife at the end -- it's a prop of this performance, I gather.
  
  > consult the computer about Charla
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  seven months ago: Huge wad of demands from Earth that I do research to find people's missing ancestors. In my spare time from carving out a treaty, I am to look for someone's great-aunt Charla.
  
  five months ago: More background research. Think I found the files on this Charla character, but they're very strange. All their historical data is preserved in severely lossy formats.
  
  four months ago: More research. My Charla seems to have been married to Peter Long. Wish I had a clearer idea of what Peter Long was up to.
  
  four months ago: So. Put together the archive files on Charla and her companion Peter Long here. I have what appear to be six versions of the same events, recorded in distinctly stylized and different forms -- including what looks like an opera. (Or some perversion thereof.) I'd say they were literary reworkings but no, they seem actually to be a convention-based compression of some original, now-lost data recording. The weird thing is that they don't all end the same way -- apparently the conventions of recording are allowed to override, for instance, matters of fact.
  
  four months ago: Oh my. Cross-comparing the data and the compression algorithm information I could find I think I have worked my way to a fuzzy but more-accurate version of the original. Spent a good while in the archive building messing with the kiosks. Got to talk to A about this, find out if it is really true. If it is, we may end scuttling the whole treaty if I report what I found on Charla and Peter Long. Long is really the issue; it's just our bad bad bad bad bad luck that Charla's relatives are still alive and, worse, pushy about finding out what became of her.
  
  three months ago: Long talk with A, and she essentially confirmed for me what I had already pieced together, though with some bits that I hadn't quite understood about Peter and Charla. And then I got rid of the recordings. The destruction of data, a slippery slope. This was much bigger than getting rid of Yamashita's correspondence disc but it felt less awful, somehow. This is something I cannot, cannot report back if I want these people saved. And increasingly I do. Even my infuriating assistant.
  
  two months ago: Funny sort of personal conversation with A. Turns out that she is descended from Peter and Charla herself -- the whole A line is. This is such a strange thought to me. Apparently they're among the most human-like of the remaining lines (though with certain obligatory modifications, of course), which I suppose is why she was assigned to deal with us.
  
  > consult the computer about the knife
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  gift symbolism: knife: Apparently, according to the etiquette files, any edged instrument is a symbol of restrictions, living under strict controls imposed by someone else, and dating back to clinical trials in which new genetic lines deemed to be failing their intended purpose were slaughtered with a knife. This practice is now called flushing and does not require a blade, but the associations remain.
  
  Your search turns up the following entries from Valenti's personal log:
  
  seven weeks ago: Liam told me about the flint knife in the Earth Sanctuary. Turns out it wasn't brought by us (always thought that a really odd thing to send) but they brought it here from Earth themselves. There's some sort of gloomy symbolism there which, as usual, he couldn't bring himself to explain directly. A less useful assistant would be difficult to find.
  
  27 days ago: Went to the Earth Sanctuary and heard a few songs. Strangely moving. One of them was in fact about old Peter. Felt like it was the play to catch the conscience, etc., except of course in this case I'm not the murderer and it's everyone else's conscience that really ought to be bothered, not mine. It was a good song, though. They got out the flint knife at the end -- it's a prop of this performance, I gather.
  
  > look at the colonists
  Quiet and thoughtful.
  
  > Go east
  From here, you can go west (to grand solarium).
  
  > Go west
  The Grand Solarium is an enormous dome with an oval roof of glass and grown metalwork. Inside is a botanical garden, which, on this planet, is a kind of art museum. Each plot displays some invented shrub that would be illegal on Earth.
  
  The southern end of the dome, where they grow edible crops, is hidden by a decorative screen of hanging flowers. The garden also continues to the east; away to the west is the front of the Earth Embassy, now your home.
  
  A double set of insulating doors leads north to the outdoors.
  
  > Go west
  You wander between plots: what catches your eye this time is vines growing tablet-like medicinal berries.
  
  You stand at the eastern end of a shallow rectangular pool -- no doubt part of the reason the air is softer and more humid here than it was outside. The Embassy is just west of here, at the far end of the pool.
  
  If you look down, you catch the reflection in the surface, and a number of small red fish swimming around, in formation, making symbols which you cannot read.
  
  > Go south
  From here, you can go west (to the front stairs) or east (to grand solarium).
  
  > look at the orange
  Short orange trees growing in tubs next to the staircase. They have glossy dark leaves and orange fruit.
  
  > consult the computer about the float unit
  Your search turns up the following articles:
  
  Float technology and human adaptation: The article describes, with pictures, the float units built for humans who want to replicate the colonists' natural floating abilities. A supply of these were apparently built for the use of ambassadors and stored in the basement of the Embassy, since it was observed that humans tended to break them at a high rate.
  
  There isn't any personal data available from logs or annotations.
  
  > go to the south
  Little more than a chilly concrete box. It continues some distance to the north.
  
  Something resembling the root system of Yggdrasil covers the south wall; from close up it appears to be a complex heating system with pipes and tubes.
  
  A personal float unit hovers three inches off the floor at the middle of the room.
  
  Mentally you check off "find a working float unit" on your list of remaining tasks. You run over the things various people have decided you ought to do:
  acquire vaccine from the research facility (HC's orders)
  wear white jacket (Valenti's idea)
  summon Liam and show him the gift box
  meet with Ambassador Aylene to present your gift
  
  > get the unit
  It is not designed to be lifted, only ridden. The outer shell is extremely dense.
  
  > Ride unit
  Reminding yourself that you have never yet broken your neck on one of these things, you put your left foot onto the float unit and attempt to take your right foot off the floor.
  
  Naturally, being frictionless, it glides away, and you fall into a painful split.
  
  The good thing about this, remember, is that you're alone down here. Plenty of opportunity to try again.
  
  > Ride unit
  You circle the float unit a few times, sizing it up. When it looks most helpless and unsuspecting, you hop on.
  
  It dips, wobbles, tries to dodge -- but you master it. Yes. You are aboard.
  
  > examine unit
  The purpose of the float unit is to allow you to do awkwardly what the natives do well: hover a few inches off the ground (or water). It consists of an oval platform four or five inches thick and made of dense material, with a reservoir for floatpoints inside. There is also a dial on one side. The unit currently hovers three inches off the floor.
  
  > examine dial
  A small dial, unlabeled but presumably meant to control the floatation of the unit.