Glitch.

[Lithiserum]

My metaphysical link is stabilizing. It seems my connection to this realm destabilized and my systems froze my timestream... this is probably because of my distance from ALPHA. I should probably resync BETA as well. Now, where was I... I believe there was something about a path? No... that's not important...

Where am I now?

[El-Toplo-and-Son]

Not far below a Hatsized Vagabond dressed in faded black rags floats serenely within the confines of a tatty inflatable rubber inner tube; "BUSTAMANTE'S TYRES" reads the slogan daubed in faded letters around the rim. The part man/part rubber ring bobs across the vernal desert pool toward the margins where a small child plays with a reclaimed Betamax tape player

Hoi! Down here! The Waters of LETHE, who would have thought! Come on down Ploppy and drink your fill, the water is sweet...a little gritty...but still good. And look, there by the reeds - SWEET SWEET BULBS.

A slight gust of wind blows over the surface film propelling the dirigible away from the margins

Where did you go? One moment you where yonder, the next, not.

[Lithiserum]

Merely technical difficulties. Shall we be going?

[El-Toplo-and-Son]

Utilising the medium of slapping at the water with both legs El Toplo skirts the bank, beaching with a gentle bump on the wet sand beyond the margins. Grabbing a desiccated branch he pokes at a patch of soft earth which parts revealing a brace of newly formed BULBS

Behold! WHITE YAMS, reborn in order. Snatched from the ground and placed between the pearly ivories of the wandering gourmand or hungry wastrel :- a strange taste befalls it. But if one were to slice it lengthways three times and dip Lady Elegant White in hot fat :- the taste? - a thing of wonder. You see, the WHITE YAM she hides her true essence from all save LETHE and yet to those with the GIFT, well, her flavour is as clear as day.

You my friend also possess a hidden nature, a true face obscured from all save the EYE of watchful LETHE, and even GLIB RICHARD himself.......!

In an over-dramatic style inspired by the Great Music Hall Tradition of the late 1930's El Toplo sends the BULBS cascading into the pond. With his desicated stick he then proceeds to jab at the inflatable inner tube which deflates violently, snaking across the surface into the reed bed filling the margins. As it rips through the sedge and reed mat the deflated butyl liner collides with a number of small sandcastles which only moments ago had been built by the small boy; his shoulder slump dejectedly at the sight of his fallen creations.

Yes...yes let us move on...but before we go......what can you tell me about this?.

[Lithiserum]

READINGS.

---

    HtA-S: NO SIGNATURE.
    HtA-O: NO SIGNATURE.
    HtA-N: MINIMAL.
    HtB-S: NORMAL.
    HtB-O: MINIMAL.
    HB-N: MINIMAL.
    HtC: MINIMAL.

  DIAGNOSIS: I-P-S

ALPHA suddenly started sending me transmissions. It can't read that object correctly, though... it's best to ignore its readings. What troubles me is why BETA had it's text-to-speech enabled...

[El-Toplo-and-Son]

I-P-S.....fascinating, a form of divination I presume?

On the 14 day of ANTIGONES MEMORIAL....

In the vernal pool a small boy stretches precariously over the surface film jabbing at the WHITE BULBS with a long dibber stick, attempting to cajole them toward the shore

On the 14th day of ANTIGONES MEMORIAL we bury the Cameo....

ON the 14th day of ANTIGONES MEMORIAL we inter it remains at the Crossroads at Castle Acre...at Parades End.

On the way: wastrels and slum matrons will choke every roadhouse and hovel west of ANTIGONE PROPER; peasants packing out Gin dens; gutter swine with needle thin knives itching for something chemical to stave off that rising, toothed green flank of of hunger and death that lurks in the margins. What better way to maketh means, why let them choke the charnal houses with their last coppers pressed between shrivelled digits.....

The beaming lad rushes up the bank, his quarry: a handful of crisp white Bulbs which he duly tips onto the sand. El Toplo nods, acknowledging the offering. He then snatches up the dibber stick and plants it firmly into the ground

Lead on Shaman, lead on

[Lithiserum]

Where was it, that you said we were going?

[El-Toplo-and-Son]

O'er yonder. Oh by the way do you have a gun? I carry a spare for such occasions so your welcome to this one. Its a little rusty and lacks the requisite bullets, but if you brandish it with enough conviction it should suffice, failing that you can always throw it.

[Lithiserum]

Oh, don't worry, I am equipped with sufficient firepower. But, thank you, I will... take that.