text: [Themes: Espionage, Evil protagonist, supernatural]
  
  > go downward
  The interior of the chapel is exactly what you'd expect: A ������������������������������������������������ in front of a ������������������������������������ without the ������������������������ and ������������������������������������������������������������. The whole place ���������������������������������, but that's hardly
  surprising, given ������������������������������������������. It's a ������������������������ place, for obvious
  reasons, and the ������������������������������������������ doesn't make it any less ��������������� or
  ��������������������������� to those of my kind, the ��������������������������� notwithstanding. Even
  though humans would undoubtedly love to know that ������������������������������������������������������,
  it's simply ������������������������������������ and ������������������������������������������, which neatly explains the meaning of life. An unobtrusive stairway at the back of the room leads upward, and the much more inviting exit from the chapel is to the
  west.
  
  A hatrack stands to one side of the doors.
  
  > Go west
  The gardens on the eastern edge of the hotel lie in uniform, geometric precision. Straight gravel paths bound squares of brightly colored flowers, each with a placard bearing the scientific names of its contents. The breeze from the nearby sea mixes the faint aromas in the various plants into an unidentifiable but not unpleasant smell. A ponderous chapel made of rough stone looms at the eastern edge of the gardens, and a well-worn path leading northeast skirts around it. To the west, there is a wide portico that leads into the hotel.
  
  > go north
  The hotel's lounge is a maze of overstuffed leather chairs. Next to each one is a narrow table with an ashtray and an occasional discarded newspaper or magazine on it. A trolley with drinks sits at the ready against the far wall. Passages lie in all four cardinal directions. In addition, an ornate, sweeping staircase leads upward into the part of the hotel for guests. While the human guests are of little interest,
  my predecessor also kept a room here on one of the upper floors.
  
  The drunk exhales contentedly.
  
  > Go east
  This gallery is a small, stark alcove adjoining the lounge to the
  west. The walls are bare and white, and the carpet is a deep brown. An exhibit at the far end of the room shows off a few brightly colored pieces of pottery, protected by a velvet rope in front of the display.
  
  A bell with a large crack is displayed on a plinth here.
  
  > ring bell
  I ring the bell, producing an uncanny tone.
  
  > read the book
  I skip to a random entry in the almanach and read it aloud. Going through the minor biographical details of a well-placed angelic official whose entry is almost entirely redacted is tedious, but it should be sufficient for the ritual.
  
  > Light candle
  I hesitate before lighting the candle. The ritual and ensuing conversation would go completely unnoticed by humans, but I want to keep far away from Kingfisher during them. I'd better find a more private location.
  
  > Light candle
  I hesitate before lighting the candle. The ritual and ensuing conversation would go completely unnoticed by humans, but I want to keep far away from Kingfisher during them. I'd better find a more private location.
  
  The waiter loafs in the corner.
  
  > go to the north
  Unlike the rest of the casino, this small room is refreshingly severe and empty. Bookshelves filled with identical logbooks line the windowless walls, occasionally broken up by racks of electronic equipment. The only exit is an imposing door to the south.
  
  An elaborate laser grid encloses a metal strongbox.
  
  > Light candle
  I hesitate before lighting the candle. The ritual and ensuing conversation would go completely unnoticed by humans, but I want to keep far away from Kingfisher during them. I'd better find a more private location.
  
  > Go north
  This small garden lies at the center of the hedge maze. Moss grows optimistically through cracks in the mosaic floor, and vines wrap around the columns ringing the open area. A fountain in the center, flowing but full of vegetation and other flotsam, breaks the summer humidity. A torturous path to the south heads back into the maze.
  
  The kid stands off to one side, looking bored.
  
  > Go up
  I make my way to my predecessor's room, ignoring the frivolous rooms
  of the human guests.
  
  My predecessor, Krait, used this hotel room as a temporary base of operations for his role as chief of station. Of course, he had no use for its amenities. Thus the bed and dining table were both employed, judging from the papers scattered across them, as makeshift desks. A smaller but bona fide desk sits in the corner, with an artless landscape in watercolors hanging above it. The liquor cabinet lurks untouched in the corner, and the ashtray on top of it is completely empty. The stark white carpet here is plush and spotless.
  
  The only exit from the room is to the south.
  
  > close the door
  I don't see the double doors here. They were at Lawn.
  
  > Light candle
  I light the candle with a snap of my fingers, completing the ritual.
  
  With the ritual components in place, I chant ������������������������������������ (footnote 4)
  and open a secure line to headquarters. A hazy image of a weedy demon in a lab coat appears before me. We quickly exchange signs and countersigns, and I explain my problem.
  
  "So, Whiptail, any ideas about what could be going on?"
  
  "Does it hurt when you do this?" he asks, twisting his claw
  in a way that would undoubtedly be painful if we weren't wearing functional anatomy like Halloween costumes. I repeat the gesture and shrug.
  
  "But your influence just bounces off humans?"
  
  "It's more like hitting a wall."
  
  "Hmm. It sounds like it could be a thaumatic force dampener."
  
  "What's that?"
  
  "They've been in development for years, but we never���wait, have you been cleared for Project ���������������?"
  
  "No."
  
  "Ah. Then they haven't been in development for years. It must be something else."
  
  "I don't really care what it is; I just want to shut it off."
  
  "Well, thaumatic force dampeners aren't a thing, of course���"
  
  "Of course."
  
  "���but if they were a thing, then shutting one off would
  easy.
  It has to be tied in to a corporeal object in the human realm to function. Get rid of that, and you'll get rid of the dampener too."
  
  "But how am I supposed to do that when I can't influence humans?"
  
  "Ah! I've got just the thing for that. Hang on!" he says brightly,
  then disappears from view. Whiptail runs the research and development team for my department, and his office is an unorganized mass of brilliant inventions, half-finished prototypes, and complete junk.
  Even through the tinny secure line, I can hear him rummaging through heavy piles of equipment. Eventually he shows up in person again, bearing some sort of incomprehensible widget, as well a few fresh
  scars from bits of jagged metal.
  
  "So, Sidewinder, the thing that is definitely not a thaumatic force dampener is going to stop you from influencing humans' intents. I can help you influence their manners, though."
  
  "Good. Humans are revolting."
  
  "Not that kind of manners. With this device, you should be able to influence how humans do something, even if you can't directly
  influence what they're doing. So, for example, I can't help
  you make a human run or make it stop running, but I can help you make it run quickly or slowly."
  
  "That sounds useful."
  
  He nods. "I'll arrange for someone to drop it into the field. I don't know where exactly, but you should be able to find it. Hopefully it'll be enough for you to shut down the device." He passes off the widget
  to someone off to the side whom I can't see. "Let me know if you need anything else. I always need test subjects for my inventions, and there's less paperwork afterward if the test subjects are immortal."
  
  I quickly thank him for his help and shut down the portal.
  
  > Footnote 4
  (4) ...and chant ������������������������������: My original
  draft had an
  unredacted but useless incarnation here���the infernal equivalent of a "555-" telephone number. Invoking it summons a horde of imps to flay the invoker with scorpions filled with bees. It would have been a hilarious prank, but the lawyers made me censor it. If you want to try it out, though, just light a candle and chant ������������������ (footnote 5).
  
  > Footnote 5
  (5) ...and chant ������������������: Looks like they read the
  footnotes
  too. Oh well.