Narrator 3: Phineas Thatch is falling.

Narrator 1: Bodies tumble around him in a brilliant void of clouds, plummeting through thin air, surrounded by shimmering rain.

[Whistling winds]

Narrator 2: Mica fragments like gleaming razors scratch and cut, abrading his skin, scouring his lungs. He’s probably about to die, but strangely, it’s situations like this where he tends to feel the most calm. His life has never really belonged to him anyway.

Narrator 3: The cosmos’ interminable gravity is pulling him down, down, down, plummeting through space, through the yawning void that is the Un.

Narrator 1: Everything is falling to pieces around him, but he feels a rare certainty in this moment. No one else is going to tell him if this choice was right or wrong, but he thinks he can live with that. For a few more moments at least.

Narrator 2: He cannot survive a fall like this through open air for long.

Narrator 3: More on that later. Phineas isn’t falling quite yet.

Narrator 1: In fact, very much the opposite.

Narrator 2: Surely the two things aren’t related. Whoever said that things that go up must come down?

Narrator 3: Because right now it’s all about going up!

[Wind sound effects disappear, replaced with an abrupt and decisive music sting, and the sound of a ship blasting by.]

Narrator 1: Kozma Laszlo’s sky yacht blasts out of the cloud bank, hurtling upwards, Unwards, headed to the Highest Light.

Narrator 2: This ship is a rental. It is not her foldmersible and doesn’t quite drip with her personality in the same way.

Narrator 3: That being said, though, she certainly moved a lot of her stuff over here, though.

Narrator 2: And she commissioned the flashiest unship she could. She likes to travel in style, after all.

Narrator 3: Inside of the ship, Kozma Laszlo is with Phineas Thatch. They are both going up. Remember, this is key.

Narrator 2: Everyone in the ship is going up together as, indeed, the ship moves up.

Narrator 3: And they’ve set up a sort of temporary office on her ship. They’ve got a great view of the sky, of the clouds, of the crystalline Un that they’re traveling through.

Narrator 1: It’s been a view they’ve been enjoying now for about three days.

Narrator 2: Kozma Laszlo is just as busy as always, sitting there at her intimidating, ponderous desk, the same desk from the foldmersible. That’s one of the pieces of furniture she had moved over.

Narrator 3: And she’s just as busy. She’s finishing up a danish, reading a newspaper.

Narrator 2: Even though Phineas has been sharing a ship with her, it’s been really hard to get any one-on-one time with the Baron.

Narrator 1: She’s busy. She’s very important. She is Kozma Laszlo, after all.

Narrator 2: She kept saying they needed to have a conversation, but then would reschedule it, and here we are at last, almost at our destination, and still no conversation having been had.

Narrator 3: But now we’re here and, well, Phineas is a little anxious and nervous, to—

Narrator 2: What else is new?

Narrator 3: —to be honest.

Narrator 2: Generally he’s a little anxious and nervous, but particularly as they make their return back to the Un, a place that holds some unique associations,

Narrator 3: Some baggage, you might say.

Narrator 2: some feelings for him.

Narrator 3: He’s had some time to sit with his thoughts, but here he stands in front of the Baron, wringing his hands, intimidated by this force of a lady.

[A buzzer sounds, and a sliding door fissures open] 

Narrator 1: Laszlo’s lieutenant, one of her main heralds, pops in. (Laszlo’s lieutenant) “We have begun our approach to the Highest Light, Baron, ma’am. We will be landing shortly.”

[The sliding door fissures closed again]

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Neat. Well, if we are about to land, we’d better wrap this up and get down to brass tacks then, eh, Phineas?”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Uh, ah, certainly. What was it that you wanted to discuss, Baron?”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Well, first of all, when we get to the Highest Light, we… well, YOU… are going to need to be… sneaky. Do you know how to do that? My sources indicate you will definitely be in trouble if discovered. I certainly don’t intend to reveal you to the Trust. And luckily you’re currently presumed dead.”

Narrator 3: Phineas is… continues to be… struck and thunderously blasted by this extremely powerful little lady.

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “I noticed you haven’t been shaving. That’s good. Beard maintenance is still important, though. We don’t want you looking raggedy. I can hook you up with a stylist friend in the Light if you’re interested.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Oh, actually I do know a little about, like, uh, broadcast makeup, uh, and—”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Neat. So let’s talk a little bit more about the future of your career, kid. Specifically, what you’re going to be doing for ME.”

Narrator 1: So, Laszlo is a bit of a collector— of items, of power, of people. And, y’know, adding an ex-Prime Adsecla to her collection of goodies is pretty valuable. This is a— Phineas is a terrific addition to her stable of things. And she’s now in the process of discovering, of discerning, exactly what she intends to do with him. She’s got some ideas, but first she’s gotta… set him up a little bit.

Narrator 2: She leans forward across the desk at him, fixing him with her gaze. (Kozma) “So. Tell me about your life with the Trust.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Sure, um. I guess it kind of began when I was a younger person. I was Unlifted, um, raised by an organization known as the Family.”

[Kozma makes frequent interruptive sounds of understanding throughout the conversation] 

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “I know what the Family is.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “And they had me on the Company track pretty early on, um…”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Sure they did. Makes sense.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Everything— Everything was pretty much essentially planned out for me. I didn’t have a whole lot of… choice in where I went or where I was placed, but… at least with that, I was always aware of what I was supposed to do next.”

Narrator 1: Oh, this is great. Kozma can totally work with this. He belongs to her now.

Narrator 2: Putty in her hands.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Obviously the goal was to become Valorous by any means necessary and I was so close, but it was always just out of reach, something always coming up, something always in the way. One more job, one more mission, one more good deed, but… I was never quite good ENOUGH, for myself or… for them.”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Mmm. A familiar sentiment. And what was it specifically, Phineas, that made you decide to breach?”

[Phineas’ theme emerges, plaintive and contemplative]

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “I guess I, I found myself doing… terrible things… for reasons that I thought were right. For the good of the Trust. But… hurting people, chasing children…”

Narrator 2: Phineas is wringing his hands as these words come tumbling out of him.

Narrator 3: This is kind of the first time he’s had the opportunity to really talk about this with someone. Smoking a moth is one thing. Having a conversation, that’s something else.

Narrator 2: What a perfect first therapist, Kozma Laszlo.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Valor was the excuse, but… There are other ways, better ways, to be good, to do the right thing.”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Do you think the Trust needs to change, then?”

Narrator 3: That’s a big question.

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Yes or no?”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Uh, I mean… it’s not perfect the way it is now, so… yeah?”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “And how would YOU change it?”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “I… I don’t know. It’s so complicated. It’s such a vast system. I mean, from what I’ve seen, the way I feel it is… I guess Valor is almost like a poison. It’s this drive to count and to measure what is right and what is good… and it just twists us, it twists everyone in the system into horrible people. It’s too big and too established, but… if you could maybe change the way that people think about it, maybe change something about Valor itself…”

Narrator 1: Laszlo is smiling at him just a little.

Narrator 2: She takes a quick sip of her coffee. (Kozma) “Are you ready to go back?”

Narrator 3: Well, he’s been getting there. He’s been on a journey, that’s for sure. But now that that journey is taking him back up, back to the Highest Light, well—

Narrator 2: —and somewhat sooner than he imagined, as well.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “I mean, yes, I know the city, I know my way around. I don’t know that many people outside of the system, but I can take care of myself. I’ll be careful and lay low.”

Narrator 2: (Kozma, laughing) “No, no, no. Are you READY to go BACK? To the Trust? To Valor, your Consector, all that?”

Narrator 3: Now THAT’S the question.

Narrator 2: What the Baron is really asking is “can I count on you?” Phineas is pretty newly reformed, after all, if you can call it that. He hasn’t really been tested yet. It’s easy to say you’ve quit something when you can’t have it anyway.

Narrator 3: And, well, the Trust sort of quit him first, after a fashion. He’s thinking about how to answer, but—

Narrator 1: —before he can say anything, the lieutenant herald returns, interrupting them. (Laszlo’s lieutenant) “Baron, ma’am, excuse me. You’re going to want to hear this.” He’s carrying a teletheric. It’s turned on.

Narrator 2: Oh, this better be good. The Baron must not be interrupted lightly.

Narrator 1: The voice of—you guessed it—Jedediah Pom is booming on the airwaves.

Narrator 2: Let’s listen.

[The squawk of a tuning teletheric transducer.]

Narrator 1: (Pom) “Wanted alive to answer for the infamous murder of Maximilian Loxlee, Valorous is his memory, among other crimes: Clara Mire, alias Lark, the most Caenumous criminal in the cosmos. Her capture, or information leading to capture, shall be richly rewarded with a fortune in Valor, the largest ever offered by the Trust for a single deed. The Trust’s entire available fleet has been dispatched to scour the cosmos for this criminal, but as of this broadcast, she now knows we are searching for her, so… we request that everyone be on the lookout for this Caenumous criminal. The Valor could be yours to claim. Remember, Clara Mire is wanted ALIVE. [Hyperspeed voiceover] *Reward in Valor or equivalent local isletary currency, available upon request. Exact reward sum subject to current exchange rates. Final calculations, discounts, deductions, intention fees, and circumstantial surcharges to be finalized upon verification of rendered service. The Trust bears no liability for damages resulting from pursuit of this reward offer. Any interactions with the accused will be considered in the calculation of your reward, and may result in penalties should you be found to be aiding and abetting this criminal. This message has been authorized by the Upper Trust, the Central Vault, and the Consectorial Company.” 

Narrator 2: Kozma, who has been twirling a shiny executive heavy boss pen, stills the action of her fingers and deliberately sets it down on the surface of her desk. (Kozma) “Just like the Trust to try to fix their economy by hunting and probably ritually sacrificing some old lady. [laughs] Pathetic. They are a mess right now. Anyway, I gotta get ready. Let’s chat again real quick just before we disembark. And get rid of this for me.”

Narrator 1: She hands Phineas her leftover lunch.

Narrator 3: Phineas grabs the plate, which appears to include some kind of danish and a hot egg affair, and scurries out, taking the leftovers with them, slinking down a couple of hallways toward the cargo hold.

Narrator 2: There isn’t anyone else down here. It’s quieter, darker.

Narrator 3: A couple of big wardrobe trunks of Kozma’s, some extra gear.

Narrator 1: You can never have enough pantsuits.

Narrator 2: He continues walking forward, approaching the shadows in the back, squeezing between some of the larger crates and luggage items.

Narrator 1: And there, in the deep recesses of the cargo hold, there lurks a shadow within the shadows.

[A subtle strain of Lark’s musical theme.]

Narrator 2: A stowaway.

Narrator 3: There lurks… a Lark.

Narrator 2: She just glares at him as he approaches, holding the platter of leftovers before him, like some kind of offering, tremulously.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Uh… We’re landing soon!” he says.

Narrator 2: He has the air of someone who drew the short straw to bring the caged tiger its hunk of meat at the zoo.

Narrator 1: As fearsome as Kozma Laszlo may be, she’s got nothing on Lark.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Heeeey… How’s your day going?”

Narrator 2: Well, that is a stupid question. Lark’s day has been going terribly, like every day spent stowed away on this ship. She has been cooped up down here, hiding from everyone, lurking around in the cargo hold. Only Phineas knows she’s here and she is dependent on him for every meal and every scrap of information during this whole voyage.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “So, I have good news and bad news, um… The good news is we’re landing soon! The bad news is that there’s kind of an all-frequencies broadcast, um, playing right now. It sounds like the Trust is looking for someone, someone named Clara Mire, alias… Lark… who murdered Maximilian Loxlee.”

Narrator 2: (Lark) “That a fact?”

Narrator 1: Somehow she’s not surprised. This does explain the ominous feeling she had during that brief stopover on Midst, like a searchlight was about to beam down on all of her hiding places. Hmm. Makes sense now.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Um, the reward for her is astronomical.”

Narrator 2: Lark just keeps staring at him.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “So. We are definitely gonna talk more about that later, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry, okay? Old me might have turned you in for the reward, but I don’t, I don’t want Valor anymore.”

Narrator 2: (Lark) “Old you? From a week ago?”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Yep! Well, gotta go. Uh, you just stay hidden, stay here, and I’ll come get you when it’s safe. Oh! And here’s the rest of Kozma’s lunch. Uh, bye!”

Narrator 2: He shoves the plate off to her. She does take it. She’s not going to get food any other way.

Narrator 3: And he dashes back up to the ship’s main level. [Door swishes open]  As he does, he catches sight of the city through a porthole in the hall. Oh my god.

Narrator 2: It looks like there’s some bad weather on the horizon. There’s some large grim storm clouds suffused with glowing wads of mica billowing there distantly, not like a Fold storm, not like a tearror, just a normal low pressure system kind of thing.

Narrator 1: Normal cloud storm.

Narrator 2: Regular weather.

Narrator 1: On approach to the Highest Light, Kozma Laszlo’s ship breaks through towering cumulonimbus formations as Trust gunships join them in formation, escorting them into the city.

[A whoosh of Trust vessels joining formation with the unship]

Narrator 2: Phineas shrinks away from the window as these ships fly into view.

Narrator 3: Dead ahead, the glorious city of the Highest Light.

[A dramatic music sting signals the appearance of the Highest Light. Triumphant, glorious, menacing.]

Narrator 2: Perched atop countless huge flying islands of mica, all interconnected by sky bridges and causeways, a glimmering giant glassy sprawl, shining spires, a metropolis of soaring greenhouses and terrariums full of trees and flowers.

Narrator 1: Crystalline luxury, all encircling a grand structure of great drama and significance on its very own hovering island of mica at the core of the city: the Central Vault, a prominent landmark at the very heart of it all.

Narrator 2: Clouds above and below, and even drifting between these sparkling spires.

Narrator 3: This city is like an arcology, an entirely internal cityscape, enclosed in glass and steel and curtains of water, protected from the deadly mica dangers outside.

Narrator 1: Kozma’s unship sweeps into a grand Upper Trust dock, containing already a few dozen lavish Trust vessels. Her ship passes through a sheer curtain of water and circles into a huge enclosed terrarium full of light and plants and flowers.

[Past the waterfall, the ambiance is suddenly awash with chirping birds and gusting wind.]

Narrator 2: Some leaves get shredded as mica dust is blown in with the gust of wind that the ship brings with it, before everything is then filtered in preparation for disembarkment.

Narrator 3: Some of the dignitaries who are already assembled flinch in the breeze, but they remain steadfast awaiting Kozma.

Narrator 1: As the ship lands heavily, Phineas can hear from within a booming announcement. (Laszlo’s lieutenant) “Make ready! Kozma Laszlo, Baron of the Fold Shallows and all islets therein, except for Midst… has arrived!”

Narrator 2: Phineas joins up with Kozma in the ship’s vestibule with the gathering ranks of heralds there.

Narrator 1: Standing amongst her entourage of associates, guards,

Narrator 2: she’s brushing off her velvet waistcoat, getting ready to make her entrance,

Narrator 3: and seeing Phineas arrive, waves him over, her glittering bejeweled fingers sparkling in the unlight.

Narrator 2: She reaches into an inner pocket and plucks out a glossy, dark business card type of a thing, embossed with some gilt lettering and inscribed with some additional swift handwriting. (Kozma) “Ah, there you are. I have several days of meetings with the Upper Trust, ugh, but after that I have arranged a private rendezvous at this address. Don’t lose this card. Until then, lay low.”

Narrator 1: She leans in toward his ear, conspiratorially.

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “When we meet up later, I’ll be introducing you to some of my contacts here in the Highest Light. People with whom you’ll be working closely if you decide to continue in my service — an offer which I hope you will be considering very, very seriously.”

Narrator 1: The outer doors are unhitching, unlocking, preparing to swing wide.

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Just in case the ship is checked by Company security during check-in procedures, you should hide. You might check the cargo bay. A person could probably hide there without being noticed.”

Narrator 1: Phineas’s eyes momentarily go very wide and then go very much totally back to being totally normal.

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Oh, uh, really?”

Narrator 2: (Kozma) “Slip out later once the coast is clear.”

Narrator 3: (Phineas) “Great… tip. I’ll do that. Thanks, Baron. Um, see you later.”

Narrator 2: Nice, Phineas. Smooth.