Narrator 1: Saskia del Norma is a Trustee. She doesn’t talk about it very much. Doesn’t usually wear her abacus at all, as a matter of fact. Many people are very surprised to learn she even HAS one.

Narrator 3: Being so low-key about her affiliations is for the best, of course, considering her numerous misgivings about Trust society and the actions that she’s decided to take to do something about them. You know this now. Atticus Concord knew it too and died because of it.

Narrator 2: Saskia runs the Black Candle Cabaret as a front for escapees—for Trustees who wanted out… those an endless debt to the Trust who knew they had no chance of ever breaking even. Those who broke a contract and fled.

Narrator 3: Those in Breach.

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “Sherman,” Saskia says. They’re at the Cabaret bar. There’s very little business; most of their regular customers are busy thronging at the Mission. “I don’t want to put you at risk with the increased Trust presence we’re about to have. I think it’s time for you to keep moving.”

Narrator 3: Sherman has been sitting quietly, gaze unfocused, watching the mob through the windows. He nods, but just barely. [Sherman] “I can’t thank you enough, Saskia” he says, “for helping us along the way.”

Narrator 1: That one other bartender (you remember the one: the socially adept one) is coming around the bar, himself, and he sees this exchange… and he knows what it means. He knows that it applies to him, too. He nods. He blinks a lot very rapidly just for a second. Just something… something in his eye.

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “Oh, Emmet, I’m going to miss you too,” Saskia says to him, reaching out for his arm.

Narrator 1: (Emmet) “Yeah,” he says. “It’s been a good run. Sherman?” He circles the bar. “I… I don’t know quite how to say this…”

Narrator 3: “All the best to you,” Sherman says. He gives him his hand. “Journey’s mercies. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.”

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “Where’s Tzila?” Saskia asks. “We need to get all of you moving.”

Narrator 3: (Sherman) “She was out with her school friends earlier today. Then she wanted to tag along with Lark while she was in town for her errands. I told her to be back by now, I don’t know why she’s late.

Narrator 1: Well, she’s late because (in addition to playing with her friends this very morning) she was also pulled into a murder investigation, interrogated by Jonas Spahr and Phineas Thatch, and—having been released from their ship—is currently venting to Lark in Goe’s Garag. You, of course, know about the murder investigation. Sherman does not.

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “She’ll be here. It’s time. I’ll go tell Ettie and Ellie to pack up. Weepe?” she calls. He’s coming down the stairs by the bar. “Severance pay; our staff is turning over.”

Narrator 1: “Oh, yep. Seems like, uh, maybe a good time for that sort of thing,” Weepe says, coming down the stairs… but stopping and turning around to go back up again. “Better make these fine folks scarce, I suppose, before—”

Narrator 2: —but he doesn’t have time to finish that sentence.

Narrator 1: Sherman, Saskia, Emmett, some passing dancers, the cabaret’s Maître d’, a few customers at tables, and Mr. Weepe… TURN. Entering the cabaret with an entire company of soldiers fanning out past him is Phineas Thatch.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Sorry to interrupt. This is a raid.”

[Theme music.]

Narrator 1: The company members are streaming in, fanning out throughout the space, weaving through tables, blocking all avenues of escape from the Cabaret.

Narrator 2: There’s someone positioned at every door. Every window, even. No one is allowed to leave. No one is allowed to enter.

Narrator 3: Phineas is in charge of this operation. [as Phineas] “This establishment is harboring refugees in Breach with the Trust. Those in violation, declare yourselves voluntarily and your sentence may be reduced.” Phineas isn’t quite sure, again, if this is exactly what you’re supposed to say. He’s sort of winging it here.

Narrator 2: There’s a deadly silence inside the Cabaret. He certainly seems to be commanding everyone’s attention.

Narrator 1: But everyone stares at him, mute and frightened. No one says anything. No one has anything to declare.

Narrator 2: So he forges ahead.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Company! Search the Cabaret.”

Narrator 1: And they do; they move forward, seizing everyone pretty much indiscriminately.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Question everyone. Get their names. Proof of residency. Make sure all of their papers are in order.”

Narrator 1: And no one resists; nobody wants to dig themselves in any deeper. Those in attendance who ARE runaways, of course, don’t want to give anything away… and those employees here who are NOT (for there ARE some who are not) also do not object because they don’t want to incriminate themselves unnecessarily.

Narrator 2: Many of them look to Saskia for some kind of direction—some kind of help.

Narrator 1: Weepe is standing halfway up the staircase to the upper balcony, frozen, seeing all of this. No. This is too soon.

Narrator 2: He wasn’t supposed to be here when this happened!

Narrator 1: This wasn’t NEARLY enough time!

Narrator 2: Saskia is naturally horrified.

Narrator 1: She breaks away from the bar, nervous, but face set—determined—and marches straight up to Phineas.

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “Do you have some kind of proof of this supposed Breach? You’re so fond of paperwork! Then show me your certification for this unannounced search immediately.”

Narrator 1: (Saskia, continued) “You have no right to walk into my establishment without VERY good reason, sir.”

Narrator 3: Almost casually, Phineas produces a list, unfurling it before her very eyes.

Narrator 1: She scans it: a list of names.

Narrator 2: Her face goes utterly pale.

Narrator 1: They are the names of every single illegal employee of the Cabaret. In alphabetical order, no less.

Narrator 2: Every single breached individual.

Narrator 1: She has nothing good to say. Phineas watches her, almost smiling.

Narrator 2: She struggles to find words. Comes up with nothing.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “We’ll have to arrest you too, ma’am. And Mr. Weepe?” His attention alights on the man on the stairs. “You could be of even MORE help if you just point out each of these people to us.”

Narrator 1: Weepe practically shits himself. He clutches the railing of the staircase as all eyes in the Cabaret turn to him (Saskia’s… ever so slowly… included).

Narrator 2: She turns almost reluctantly, almost as if wishing that she wouldn’t find him there when she turns around. But there he is.

Narrator 1: On the stairs, looming over the audience chamber at the front of the Cabaret.

Narrator 2: His face perhaps as unreadable as ever. But to her, the guilt is unmistakable. [Saskia:] “Oh. I SEE.”

Narrator 3: The dreaminess fades… and the expression on her face is replaced with an incredibly hollow, just fathomless disappointment and sadness as she looks at her longtime business partner.

Narrator 1: He looks back at her, fighting to control his expression. This is NOT how this was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to KNOW it was HIM! No one here was! The Cabaret is silent, all eyes on him.

Narrator 2: Phineas is still waiting for an answer.

Narrator 1: (Weepe) “Um…” Weepe sputters, his voice echoing in the silent cabaret.

Narrator 2: Phineas’s brow furrows for a moment.

Narrator 1: (Weepe) “Well… uh… I… there’s no reason… I don’t know quite WHY you would, um—”

Narrator 2: (Phineas) “Are you resisting an official investigation, Mr. Weepe? Would you like us to arrest YOU, too?”

Narrator 1: (Weepe) “Uh, no! But I just don’t know what you… I don’t know what help I could possibly be to this operation! I don’t know—”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Well, you could start ID-ing these people for us.”

Narrator 1: Two members of the company are approaching the stairs, climbing towards Weepe.

Narrator 2: And Weepe sees that he basically has no choice. He just hadn’t been planning to do it THIS way… in front of everyone.

Narrator 1: All his former staff stare up at him, watching with horror and rage as the company members flank him, waiting for him.

Narrator 2: Saskia’s expression is the worst of all: he’s never seen ANY look like that on her face before.

Narrator 1: (Weepe) “You provide the list and I will provide the verification.”

Narrator 2: Several company soldiers step into formation around him.

Narrator 1: Weepe, mumbling pointless excuses, leads them deeper into the Cabaret.

[Transition: time passes.]

Narrator 3: Phineas has taken point, essentially establishing a small staging area. He is currently interviewing Saskia.

Narrator 2: She has taken a seat icily on one of the bar stools. Her two dogs (the big black Foldhounds) have slunk out of wherever they were sleeping and are sitting on either side of her, initially quite alarmed at the goings-on, giving Phineas a little experimental growl, but… something in his bearing immediately had them cowed… and now they are half-leaning, half-hiding behind Saskia’s legs.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Now, Ms. Del Norma, I’m going to take you through some questions if you could please respond truthfully.”

Narrator 2: The detached expression has returned to Saskia’s face. She’s hollow and rigid, staring off into space.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Could you enumerate for me your sources? Who are the other organizers on the Breach route that you’ve been in touch with?”

Narrator 1: (Saskia) “I don’t know.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Not a single name?”

Narrator 2: She shrugs noncommittally.

Narrator 1: This does make sense to Phineas. After all, the Breach route is highly secretive with connections mostly kept anonymous even from each other. She COULD be telling the truth.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “What are the circumstances in which you make your contacts, Ms. Del Norma?”

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Narrator 1: She’s not going to be very helpful. This is clear to Phineas. She is rigid. She is very dignified. She won’t even look at him. She gazes off at the window at the relentless pandemonium outside. There is still so much tumult in the streets—still so much mania for new Valor.

Narrator 2: She gives a sigh and her shoulders slump slightly… and she looks at Phineas, just for a moment, searchingly into his eyes. Seems to see something there. [Saskia:] “This can’t be easy for you, either, Adsecla. You’re… you’re just a boy, really, aren’t you?”

Narrator 3: Phineas is TOTALLY uncomfortable with this.

Narrator 2: Whatever she saw there in his face, she shouldn’t have been able to see it. He shuts that down.

Narrator 1: Yes, he’s scared. No, he has no idea what he’s doing. But she sure as hell doesn’t need to know that.

Narrator 2: In any case, this woman is too uncooperative and too unsettling to interrogate any further and there are other people here that he could be questioning.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Well, that will be all for now, Ms. Del Norma. Cuff her!”

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “I’m not going to fight you. Don’t touch me.”

Narrator 1: And they don’t. And she sits, impassive, not resisting.

Narrator 3: Phineas wheels over to the next person flanked on either side by more members of the company. “Who is this?”

Narrator 2: (as a company member) “This is Sherman Guthrie.”

Narrator 1: Guthrie? Interesting.

Narrator 3: This catches Phineas’s attention. [Phineas:] “Guthrie? You must be Tzila’s father?”

Narrator 1: Full attention, suddenly. Immediate eye contact. [Sherman:] “How do you know Tzila?” Sherman asks him. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

Narrator 1: Phineas realizes: Tzila’s FATHER? This… THIS is his lead. Sherman… he’s intent, stepping forward towards Phineas, the soldiers taking his shoulders, restraining him. 

Narrator 3: Sherman is completely misunderstanding Phineas’ motives here, he assumes that the Trust is after Tzila because she’s in Breach, like him. (Sherman) “Tzila hasn’t done anything! It was MY decision to breach. She’s not at fault; I brought her here with me!”

Narrator 3: But Phineas isn’t interested in any of THIS. Phineas leans in, his face very close to Sherman’s now.

Narrator 1: The bartender still sputtering about his daughter, denying her involvement in the Breach.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Guthrie, did you know Francis Peabody?”

Narrator 1: This takes Sherman very much aback. He starts, blinks, shakes his head. “Who?”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “You might know him better by his local nickname, ‘Fuze’?”

Narrator 1: “What?” Sherman says. “Yes.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Do you have any idea who might have killed him?”

Narrator 1: This doesn’t even compute with Sherman. “What are you talking about? Who would kill Fu—?”

[A weird hanging silence as Sherman begins to realize what’s happening.]

Narrator 2: No. No no no no no.

Narrator 1: Phineas is waiting, taking full stock of the phenomenal emotional evolution playing out over Sherman’s face. ‘Does he know who might have killed Fuse?’ “No,” Sherman says, supremely unconvincingly.

Narrator 2: Maybe it’s because he’s afraid for Tzila. Maybe it’s that he’s under arrest. Maybe it’s that he just learned his old pal Fuze is dead and probably murdered by his other… ‘pal.’ (Question mark?) But in any case, he’s not thinking clearly, and his lie is so transparently, phenomenally bad… that he might as well have just said “yes.”

Narrator 1: Phineas reacts instantly.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “You… know!” he says. “You know EXACTLY who! WHO are they? WHERE are they?”

Narrator 1: “I don’t have any idea!” Sherman says, objecting.

Narrator 2: At that moment, unlight pours in like a spotlight across Sherman’s face.

Narrator 1: The front door into the Cabaret has just opened.

Narrator 3: Phineas casts his eye over to the door.

Narrator 1: And in the door is a very, very distinctive armored, caped silhouette: Jonas Spahr is here.

Narrator 2: Here to witness Phineas’s big moment.

Narrator 1: And the scene is a thing of beauty, Phineas realizes.

Narrator 2: Everyone in the Cabaret is under his control. Everything is going exactly according to plan… and on top of all that, he has here under his thumb a LEAD in a legendary unsolved crime…

Narrator 1: …which, if solved, would redeem him COMPLETELY with the absolution and Valor he yearns for in the eyes of the Trust. In the eyes of SPAHR.

Narrator 2: Do not show weakness.

Narrator 1: And in this tableau—with everything under his control—with all these Breach renegades under arrest, the company responding to his command, Spahr in attendance gazing directly across the Cabaret at Phineas… as Phineas stands before a sputtering man making a fool of himself AND making a fool of Phineas… and THAT… just WON’T DO.

Narrator 3: Phineas’s armored fist collides with the side of Sherman’s face.

[A blow. An injured cry.]

Narrator 2: Blood and spit go flying. Sherman reels backward, completely dazed. The pain hasn’t even set in yet.

Narrator 1: The continuous stream of lies and objections suddenly silenced. Phineas throws him against the bar, grabbing him by the shirt…

Narrator 3: …and it’s almost as if, from a distance, Phineas hears his own voice commanding Sherman to GIVE UP THE NAME. [as Phineas…?] “GIVE ME THE NAME!” He hears himself… but it’s as though it’s coming from elsewhere.

Narrator 1: And Sherman is so surprised and hurt that he reacts in a very primal fashion, immediately lashing out as well. And that goes very poorly.

Narrator 2: His knuckle is immediately split against the Adsecla’s armor.

Narrator 3: And Phineas hauls him up into the air and slams him down onto the surface of the bar.

Narrator 2: There’s a sickening crack.

Narrator 1: Broken glass splinters under Sherman’s back. He screams.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “I want answers!”

Narrator 1: “I don’t have them!” Sherman cries out. He DOES. He CLEARLY does. And Phineas WILL have them.

Narrator 2: Moc Weepe, by this point, has completed his circuit of the Cabaret with the company soldiers and has come back around to the bar just in time for this scene to greet his eyes…

Narrator 1: …and is somewhat arrested by the display before him. Sherman is having the shit kicked out of him.

Narrator 2: Most of the staff are in cuffs, watching helplessly. Saskia is standing by, regarding all this with a look of utter horror and shock. She sees Moc Weepe re-enter the room. [as Saskia:] “Are you satisfied?” she asks. “Is it everything you hoped for?”

Narrator 1: The Adsecla in his armor is mauling Sherman. Sherman is now weakly, tremblingly trying to fend off the armored blows to his head and upper body. Phineas is beside himself, shouting in his face, demanding answers. If Sherman even has them at this point to give up, he almost can’t get them out.

Narrator 2: It’s as though the Adsecla has entered some kind of primal battle rage and he can’t even see that his efforts to get the answers out of this man are killing him. He’s not going to be able to answer ANYTHING if he keeps this up.

Narrator 1: Is it everything [Weepe] hoped for? This is all his fault. And for a man who usually doesn’t give a shit about consequences, this is suddenly feeling so very, VERY wrong.

Narrator 2: The soldiers are watching him… casually watching the exchange between Saskia and him.

Narrator 1: But [Weepe] can’t say [that it feels wrong]. Not with the Prime Consector standing there, his head turning towards Weepe. Not with the company men at his sides. And Weepe… is it ‘everything he hoped for?’ [as Weepe] “It’s all for the good of the Trust,” he says.

Narrator 2: And that just sounds like shit coming out of his mouth.

Narrator 1: Even to HIM.

Narrator 3: And the soldiers aren’t stupid, either.

Narrator 1: They don’t buy it.

Narrator 2: Saskia gives him one final look of utter disgust and dismisses him.

Narrator 1: And this is all happening very fast.

Narrator 3: Phineas is just wholesale torturing Sherman.

Narrator 1: Even Spahr is concerned.

Narrator 2: Saskia makes a pained noise in her throat and moves to cross the room. [as Saskia] “Consector! Stop this!”

Narrator 1: He doesn’t even listen; he’s already on the move on his own accord.

Narrator 2: (Saskia) “Can’t you see he’s killing him!? If you want answers from him, you’re going to have to stop this!”

Narrator 1: Spahr seizes Phineas, pulling him off of Sherman. [as Spahr] “THATCH!” he shouts. “STOP!”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “I’m on the trail, Spahr! This guy’s the lead! We have the killer! He knows who it is! But he won’t talk! He needs to be taken for questioning because he won’t talk, Spahr!”

Narrator 1: And Spahr sees Phineas more ALIVE, more involved than he has EVER been… but there is a strange fury there.

Narrator 2: A berserk gleam in his eye.

Narrator 1: A desperation that HORRIFIES Spahr.

Narrator 2: (Spahr) “Alright! We’ll take him for questioning!”

Narrator 1: And Phineas shows initiative, dammit, and takes Sherman away.

Narrator 2: He seizes his scruff—by his collar. Drags him across the floor.

Narrator 1: The soldiers get out of his way. Spahr watches him go. Saskia, reaching out, trying to touch him, trying to do something… but the company holds her back.

Narrator 2: Sherman, at this point, is now completely limp.

Narrator 1: He’s barely breathing. Or…

Narrator 2: …is he breathing at all?

[Phineas burst out of the Cabaret into the crowded streets.]

Narrator 3: Phineas erupts into the teeming streets of Stationary Hill, hauling the brutalized body of Sherman Guthrie out with him.

Narrator 1: The throng in the street is so consumed with passion, still mobbing their way up the hill towards the post office and the attached Mission, all still in a frenzied line… desperately scrambling to open their new accounts and acquire shares of Midst. No one even notices as Phineas begins to drag Sherman’s body out the door, down the street, headed for the shipyard… headed for the Consector’s ship and the cells it contains.

Narrator 2: Lark is there in the throng of people, struggling against the current.

Narrator 1: She is holding Tzila’s hand very firmly. They are not going to be separated in this crowd. If that happens, they’ll never find each other again. It is time to go. There is no time. Lark has to wrap this up now, get out of here, get Tzila back to Sherman, and get out of town.

Narrator 2: She’s regretting even deciding to do THIS much to get Tzila to her dad. But before she can take another step, she sees this Consector or an Adsecla come bursting out of the door of the Cabaret covered in blood with… Sherman.

Narrator 1: Sherman is dead.

Narrator 2: Lark does a 180—immediately turns the hell around, yanking Tzila with her.

Narrator 1: [Tzila] doesn’t see any of this scene outside the Cabaret: does not see her father. Does not see the Adsecla. And Lark VERY concertedly keeps it that way. She presses herself forward, straight into Tzila, blocking her view of the Cabaret, powering her back into the crowd… moving her away in the opposite direction.

Narrator 2: Lark yanks her into the first alley they pass. Crouches down. Grasps Tzila’s shoulders. Looks her straight in the eye. “It’s not safe here anymore.”

Narrator 3: And she’s right.

Narrator 1: It’s not safe anymore.

Narrator 2: Because the moon explodes.