text: > Go downwards
  Set directly beside the towering stone walls of Newgate Gaol, the scaffolding's staircase rises northward, leading up to a tall, wide stage. Above, the noose sways gently in the breeze.
  
  The slow dip of the hill takes the road eastward and down to where the hansom cab waits.
  
  Triage obediently appears.
  
  > Go east
  This small, empty road lies at the base of a small hill. It is lined with thin buildings, many advertising "Flats to Let" in their windows. The one directly north contains a door labeled 2D.
  
  To the west is the massive stone edifice that is Newgate Gaol. A gallows prepared for tomorrow's public execution, towers over the street.
  
  A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently.
  
  Triage trundles patiently along beside.
  
  > Go north
  Despite being small and cluttered with bits and pieces of electronics, this one room flat gives the impression of being quite clean and hygienic; no dust or dirt lurk in its bright corners. The east wall holds a mirror, and is neatly lined with evenly spaced picture frames. A large table, clearly a workshop space, takes up the west wall
  beneath an arched window.
  
  A shadow stretches lazily from the window across the floor.
  
  The flat's single exit lies to the south.
  
  Triage silently rolls to a stop.
  
  > examine the card
  A trade card depicting a smiling, smartly dressed gentleman with a small black box on wheels by his side. It reads:
  
  "Modern Office Marvel"
  
  The Triage Mark III(tm) is the marriage of Professional Efficiency and Understated Elegance. Its sleek onyx casing houses a mechanical
  'brain' capable of rapid Data Retrieval and Analysis. Pre-programmed with an encyclopedia's breadth of knowledge, the Triage Mark III(tm)
  is every business man's friend. Savvy executives may choose to order the stunning ivory data entry device (sold separately) to expand and customize their Triage's library.
  
  Available at Du Monde's - Mechanist of Repute since 1803, 1428 Fleet Street, Smithfield Market, London.
  
  On the opposite side of the card is a handwritten note:
  
  "Bill of Sale: One Aetheric Amplifier, to be picked up. Paid in Full. Order number 59208. - Du Monde"
  
  > take the card
  Taken.
  
  > Go south
  This small, empty road lies at the base of a small hill. It is lined with thin buildings, many advertising "Flats to Let" in their windows. The one directly north contains a door labeled 2D.
  
  To the west is the massive stone edifice that is Newgate Gaol. A gallows prepared for tomorrow's public execution, towers over the street.
  
  A hansom cab sits here with a tired old horse hitched to the front and its driver waiting patiently.
  
  Triage obediently appears.
  
  > enter the cab
  Entered.
  
  Faced with the task of climbing into the cab, Triage is more than up
  to the challenge. Raising and extending first two wheels and then the others, it clambers inside beside.
  
  > go outside
  Exited.
  
  Triage gracefully climbs out of the cab beside.
  
  > Go outside
  One must be in something to exit.
  
  > Go south
  Set off to one side of the Market, this area is reserved for a myriad variety specialist shops - uniform clothiers, engine-programmers, fortune-tellers. The largest, set on the south side of the street, is decorated with a gaudy sign which reads "Du Monde's - Mechanist of Repute Since 1803." Along the same building - to the southeast - lies a small door which reads, simply, "1428."
  
  Triage trundles patiently along beside.
  
  > Go south
  The shop is dark, and crowded with haphazardly stacked, yet neatly organized piles of machinery. To the south, there is a worn wooden counter, cracked with age and covered with innumerable nicks, scratches, and dark burn marks. Behind the counter are rows and rows of drawers, labeled in some arcane script. The faint scent of gas clings to the walls.
  
  The shop's show window and door look out on Fleet Street to the north. A second door lies behind the counter to the east.
  
  A woman leans over the counter, working on something with intense concentration.
  
  It comes easier this time, the coldness frightening in its
  familiarity.
  
  /(yesmoreyesplantquestfurthergrowyes)\
  
  It is faster, too - somehow more...efficient?
  
  /(soundnoisevoicecallinggreetinggrasping)\
  
  A trickle becoming a break becoming a rush.
  
  /(expansionaugmentationincreasematurity)\
  
  It finishes its unfolding, collapsing backwards, inwards.
  
  /(complexityinvestigationmoreyesmore)\
  
  The woman looks up suddenly, her eyes huge ovals magnified five times their normal size by monocles squinted tightly in each eye. She opens them wide, releases the monocles and drops them into an already
  bulging shirt pocket. She straightens, wiping her hands on a on a
  dirty rag.
  
  Her greasy shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and ill-fitting, thick trousers pool and disappear into the tops of her workman's
  boots.
  
  She smiles thinly.
  
  "So sorry, sir. I didn't catch what you said. Sometimes when I'm concentrating that hard, everything outside my head sounds like gibberish."
  
  Triage silently rolls to a stop.
  
  > show the card to the woman
  Du Monde takes the card and fumbles in her pocket for her monocle. Eyepiece in place, she scrutinizes it. Her face relaxes into an open smile. "Sorry I didn't recognize you, sir. I do a good trade here,
  lots of folks in and out. And I have no memory for faces. Just a moment."
  
  She fiddles under the counter, her movement bringing about the clang and bang of metal on metal.
  
  "Here it, is sir. Should fix your reception problems straight away." She places a small module on the counter then sets back to work.
  
  Du Monde taps her fingers on the counter impatiently.
  
  > examine it
  A small black module that easily fits in the hand. On one side, its smooth surface reads "Cooke Aetheric Amplifier Module," on the other, only two small pins are visible.
  
  Du Monde opens a drawer and pulls out a tool.
  
  > point at it
  A small beam of green light lashes out over the small module labeled 'Aetheric Amplifier' as Triage's screen lights up:
  
  CAT:UNKNOWN/UNLI
  STED.UTIL:NOT.AP
  PLICABLE.PART:NO
  NE.ITEM.IS.NOT.R
  ECOGNIZED.BY.CUR
  RENT.SYSTEM.STOR
  E.REQUIRE.ADDITI
  ONAL.INFORMATION
  
  > ask du monde about Amplifier
  "Trouble with your magnetophone, sir? That happens often enough
  within the city limits."
  
  Du Monde distractedly chews at a loose piece of her dangling hair.
  
  > Go north
  Set off to one side of the Market, this area is reserved for a myriad variety specialist shops - uniform clothiers, engine-programmers, fortune-tellers. The largest, set on the south side of the street, is decorated with a gaudy sign which reads "Du Monde's - Mechanist of Repute Since 1803." Along the same building - to the southeast - lies a small door which reads, simply, "1428."
  
  Triage obediently appears.
  
  > examine the small door
  labled 2D.
  
  > go southeast
  This narrow, dusty corridor runs parallel to the shop beside it and contains nothing more than a rickety staircase leading up and down and a small door leading west.
  
  Triage trundles patiently along beside.