text: [Themes: Science Fiction, post-apocalyptic, science fiction]
  
  The dropship sways dangerously as the pilot trys to correct for slipstream effects. Clutching the thin monofilament line doesn't do a lot for your stability, but at least it helps you concentrate. You risk a glance below - stupid thing to do, really, at this height, even after taking the anti-vertigo treatment - and you're rewarded with a glimpse of the ruins. Tantalisingly close, almost totally preserved. After all these years, to finally reach an intact Ancient site -
  
  The line shears in your fingers, and in sudden slow-motion horror you watch the buckle, the support harness, your entire equipment pack come wrenching up and over your arms. The debris dangles gracefully in midair for the longest moment, then slides away out of reach as gravity takes over.
  
  Your involuntary scream, drowned in the wind, turns to a jerking gasp as you fall through the jungle tree cover, rolling, sliding, and finally landing with a thud on solid ground -
  
  The ground of the Ancients!
  
  This appears to be some kind of courtyard in the centre of an Ancient dwelling. The building itself swings around to the north and west, terminating in a crumbling retaining wall due south. A smaller domed construction opens to the northeast, through a wide metal door (closed). To the east is a flat space that could bear further exploring.
  
  You hear a high-pitched decelerating whine -- a dropship turbine in trouble -- from the northeast, followed by a dull roaring crash. Just in time, you duck and cover your eyes. Blue-white light etches across the landscape, then the gravity blast wave hits. Every molecule in your private universe shudders.
  
  A minute later, you get to your feet, pain gnawing your body. Scratch one dropship; nobody could have survived that crash. Scratch your equipment. Now it's just you, your wits - and the Ancients. Hope you're as good a xenohistorian as you claimed at the Institute. Because unless you find some kind of way out of here, it could be months before a recovery team locates you.
  
  [Author's Note: You play as a xenohistorian on an expedition. You've been dropped (more literally than you planned) by a dropship over the ground of the Ancients. Your equipment was scattered and the dropship crashed. Now it's just you, your wits, and the Ancients to help you find a way home.]
  
  > examine myself
  You're a world-renowned xenohistorian and student of Ancient artifacts. And you're in reasonably good shape, given the mess this field trip has turned into.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are empty-handed.
  
  > go east
  You're standing in a square area of neatly trimmed green lawn, shimmering faintly in the afternoon light. To the west, the lawn gives way to courtyard, and beyond it to the west and north are buildings. An odd, paved rectangular depression in the ground leads down to the southeast; the encroaching jungle vegetation further back is kept at bay by a barrier of translucent sheeting.
  
  Something about the scene gives you a sudden tingle of recognition, a surge of awe. As if you're walking into a legend.
  
  > go southeast
  You're standing in a concrete rectangle set into the ground, paved with a grey substance, probably stressed concrete. It's recognisable as a swimming pool, a popular Ancient recreation fixture. Whatever water was once here has long since drained away, probably through the outlet grate set centrally in the pool's floor.
  
  You see a bright orange object here.
  
  > examine the object
  It's a bright orange polymer casting, moulded in the shape of a spiral disk. A tiny legend on the now faded material reads, in the Ancient language, FRISBEE (tm) HELIPTA.
  
  > take the frisbee
  Taken.
  
  > Inventory
  You have a Frisbee Helipta.
  
  > throw Frisbee
  The Frisbee Helipta spins furiously as it leaves your hand, hovers briefly before shooting straight up into the air, then glides in a graceful spiral back into your hand. Reminds you of a a modern dropship in flight.
  
  > look at the grate
  In the outlet grate you see a set of cards.
  
  > take the cards
  With some difficulty, you fish the set of cards out of the outlet grate. Taken.
  
  > examine the cards
  It's a set of card-sized holographic images, in full colour, printed on some kind of synthetic backing material which has survived immersion in a pool of water for years. Flicking through the holos, you see images of an Ancient family seated in an aerial vehicle; a young girl, holding what looks like a fabric toy; the same girl, a little older, throwing an orange disklike object; the family again, together, around the pool; the girl, older yet, examining a blade of grass with an optical instrument. Definitely, this is an important xenohistorical artifact.
  
  > examine the barrier
  The barrier is a thin, translucent film, resembling modern polycarbon alloys. Possibly an early form of monomolecular diamond; if so, it confirms some of your theories about the development of Ancient materials handling. It stands nearly three metres high, forming a protective wall across the entire south and east edges of the lawn area.
  
  > look at the lawn
  The lawn grass radiates a pale green glow.
  
  You suddenly realise what it is that struck you about the lawn. It's glowing! And it's _completely untouched._ The chill works deep into your spine. This is a find so staggering, you'd never thought it possible.
  
  Glowgrass. One of the earliest successes of Ancient genetic engineering. A simple enough idea; graft firefly genes into the DNA of common lawn grass. Primitive tests on tobacco plants had proved the concept worked; the rest was only a matter of commerce. (Ancient economic theory was strange in many ways, but you're as well informed as any modern scholar can be).
  
  And by the end of the Ancient era, almost every family home had its glowgrass lawn. You picture children playing on the soft shining green mat, imagine the laughter and music of a vanished age. An age of ghosts, legends, heroes.
  
  One small clump of grass, growing alone by the concrete edge, attracts your attention; it would make a perfect scientific specimen for the Institute.
  
  > take the clump
  Taken.
  
  > examine clump
  It's a clump of glowgrass, unchanged since the Ancient era. The tiny green blades glow with a pale green light.
  
  > Smell clump
  It smells just like a clump of glowgrass.
  
  > go west
  This appears to be some kind of courtyard in the centre of an Ancient dwelling. The building itself swings around to the north and west, terminating in a crumbling retaining wall due south. A smaller domed construction opens to the northeast, through a wide metal door (closed). To the east is a flat space that could bear further exploring.
  
  You briefly catch a metallic glimmer from the top of the wall.
  
  > examine the glimmer
  The object looks metallic, and out of place in the vegetation above the wall. It could - you hardly dare to hope - could be a piece of equipment from your pack, but you can't tell which one from this distance.
  
  > examine the ship
  The dropship is gone, crashed somewhere nearby in the jungle. Another casualty of these local slipstream winds. The critics at the Institute were right; you were lucky to get this far alive.
  
  > get glimmer
  The metallic object is too high to reach with your hands alone. Perhaps you could find something to help you get it down.
  
  > examine the glimmer
  This is definitely a piece of your equipment. It's a magprobe, a silvery rod about ten centimetres long and half a centimetre wide.
  The ceramic inductors inside are crude, useless for interfacing with any modern technology, but sufficient to manipulate small ferromagnetic devices.
  
  > open the northeast door
  The door appears to be locked, using a simple ferromagnetic latch from the middle Ancient period. Perhaps the magprobe might prove useful here, after all.
  
  > use the probe
  Try unlocking something with it.
  
  > unlock the door with probe
  After a few minutes of careful manipulation with the magprobe, you feel the door's magnetic contacts click open. You breath a sigh of relief; those hours of studying Ancient artifacts at the Institute training finally paid off.
  
  > open door
  The wide metallic door slides upward, creaking a little, and clangs jerkily to a halt.
  
  > Go northeast
  This domed construction is fairly small compared to the building proper, and open to the air at the southwest. Given today's scholarly confusion about many Ancient living habits, it could serve any number of functions. But the giveaway is the vehicle stationed in the middle of the floor. An interior door, currently closed, leads west to to whatever mysteries lie within the main building.
  
  The vehicle, a primitive skycar, rests under the centre of the dome.
  
  Glancing around the dome, your spirits rise a little. Your initial orbital scan of the site has proved accurate; the building is intact. And if the living quarters are as well-preserved as this... then who knows what treasures you might find?
  
  > look at the vehicle
  You recognise the Ancient vehicle from Institute file fragments. If this one is anything like the reconstructions you examined, it uses a solid-state power cell to jumpstart deuterium-hydrogen fusion, ejecting its clean-burning fuel directly as accelerated reaction mass. A clumsy system, compared to today's gravitic drives, but possibly more reliable in the short term. The skycar's sleek angular lines are marred by ugly thermal scars, as if the vehicle was caught in some kind of blast before being landed here. An entrance hatch in the vehicle's side is closed.
  
  Looking at the skycar, you feel a surge of hope. Despite the vehicle's age, it seems intact. Maybe, if you could somehow get it to work...
  
  The thought dies as quickly as it came. Stupid idea. You have no idea how to fly the thing, and who knows what parts are missing?
  
  > open hatch
  At a touch from your hand, the skycar's entrance hatch swings open.
  
  > look in
  What do you want to look in?
  
  > enter the car
  You step into the vehicle.
  
  Skycar, in vehicle dome
  The interior of the skycar is fairly cramped compared to a modern altiwing or dropship. There's a control console directly in front of you, and a viewshield through which you can see the vehicle dome. The exit hatch to your side is open; in the rear of the car is an access panel (currently closed).
  
  > look in the Skycar
  You're in the skycar; it's all around you.
  
  > open the panel
  Opening the access panel reveals a power cell, a corroded metal coil, and a triangular hole.
  
  > examine the hole
  It's a triangular hole, with what looks like some kind of one-way filter or valve beneath it. It's inscribed with a teardrop symbol.
  
  > look at the coil
  It's a thin coil of some heavily corroded metal, about ten centimetres long and three across.
  
  > examine the symbol
  Which symbol do you mean, the green button, or the triangular hole?
  
  > leave
  You step out into the vehicle dome.
  
  This domed construction is fairly small compared to the building proper, and open to the air at the southwest. Given today's scholarly confusion about many Ancient living habits, it could serve any number of functions. But the giveaway is the vehicle stationed in the middle of the floor. An interior door, currently closed, leads west to to whatever mysteries lie within the main building.
  
  The vehicle, a primitive skycar, rests under the centre of the dome.
  
  > Go west
  You'll have to open the western door first.
  
  > look at cube
  The cube is black and nearly featureless, apart from a blue button marked with a lightning bolt symbol, a hexagonal socket, and a ten-centimetre disk slot. There's a yellow disk in the slot. Black words embossed on the cube's polymer face spell out the legend "Sonjitsu 2100 Immersive Entertainment System", whatever that means.
  
  > press the blue button
  The button clicks, but nothing happens. The device doesn't seem damaged; perhaps it requires an external power supply.
  
  > Examine hexagonal
  The socket is hexagonal, about two centimetres across. It's probably designed to take some kind of cable.
  
  > examine the sculpture
  The floor sculpture seems to be formed from some transparent semi-plastic polymer, poured into a web of interlocking fractal loops and twists. It stands about half a metre high and two metres around, and gives softly when you touch it. As a sculpture it's quaintly beautiful, in an abstract kind of way; but you sense there's some further purpose to it. Perhaps the fact that it's in a direct line of sight to the black cube might mean something.
  
  > sit on the sculpture
  Of course! That's what it is - a seating device! Okay, you're now sitting on the sculptured chair. The polymer loops sway beneath you, distributing your mass until you feel nearly weightless. The black cube is now directly centred in your field of vision.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You have a set of holograms, a clump of glowgrass, and a magprobe.