Start of a transcript of HALOTHANE An Interactive Restoration Copyright 1999 by Quentin.D.Thompson. License 1999, The Theatre Of The Sensible. [Please type 'help' in times of doubt - or just for fun. To toggle between default and original colours, use 'colours on' and 'colours off'.] Release 1 / Serial number 990928 / Inform v6.15 Library 6/8 Standard interpreter 1.0 (6F) / Library serial number 981213 >l under manuscrip You rootle among the papers for a few seconds, and find a flower and a note buried amongst them. Funny, you don't remember putting them there.... [Your score has just gone up by four points.] >read note In a slanting, Old-World style font, the following words are printed - François, Ch 1. Lines 34 - 39. "Let there be light", a Voice said. "But before there can be light", it continued, "there must be a source of light". "And", added the Author, "a light producer". "That might be a little difficult for the future generations to understand", the Voice rebuked. "Very well", replied the Author. "We shall use an ancient word - the Greek halogenos, the light producer. "That is good", the Voice sighed. "But things have a knack of getting lost in transl....." [Here the line ends in mid-sentence, as if the printing process was suddenly interrupted.] >smell flower You take a deep breath - but smell absolutely nothing. Bizarre... >l under desk Ah, your trusty fan. You pull it out, anticipating a rather high nocturnal temperature. [Your score has just gone up by two points.] >put fan on chair You put the fan on the chair; it's now pointing more or less towards your bed. [Your score has just gone up by four points.] >turn on fan You switch the fan on. >lie in bed You get onto the old bed. >sleep You feel yourself drifting slowly into sleep. Strangely enough, the breeze from the fan doesn't quite smell like night air, or even like yesterday's leftovers...Your back touches cold metal, and your level of consciousness wavers. A voice floats around your head, in one ear first, the other next... "Welcome to your world." [Please press SPACE....] [ Two girls burst into the smoking-room. One had a round face with freckles and dark hair streaming out in a windswept confusion, the other had freckles and curly chestnut hair. "A rescue - a rescue!" cried Kitty Mooney. "Pam and I are going to rescue Colonel Clapperton." -- Agatha Christie, "Problem At Sea".] H A L O T H A N E An Interactive Restoration [Press SPACE to begin.....] HALOTHANE An Interactive Restoration Copyright 1999 by Quentin.D.Thompson. License 1999, The Theatre Of The Sensible. [Please type 'help' in times of doubt - or just for fun. To toggle between default and original colours, use 'colours on' and 'colours off'.] Release 1 / Serial number 990928 / Inform v6.15 Library 6/8 Chapter One - Respiratory Distress Operating Room (on the operating table) This looks suspiciously like the operating room they took you to when you were much, much younger, to have your tonsils taken out. However, it's strangely empty. The only obvious exit is through a door to the west. Standing near the bed is a slightly broken trolley. A small gauze face mask, of the type worn by surgeons during an operation, lies discarded on the floor. [Your score has just gone up by seven points.] >save Ok. >i You are carrying nothing. >x me Harold Banks, auteur manqué. >x mask A simple mask, disposable, and meant to cover the mouth and nose of all those who enter the O.R. It looks as if it hasn't been used, but - if so - why was it thrown here? >stand You get off the operating table. Operating Room This looks suspiciously like the operating room they took you to when you were much, much younger, to have your tonsils taken out. However, it's strangely empty. The only obvious exit is through a door to the west. Standing near the bed is a slightly broken trolley. A small gauze face mask, of the type worn by surgeons during an operation, lies discarded on the floor. >x trolley Made of the same metal as the table - and showing no signs of rust - the trolley, probably meant to support instruments and bandages - is currently empty. One of its wheels is broken, which might explain why it isn't used. >get mask Taken. >w (first opening the door) Instrument Room A small, narrow annexe to the O.R., where scalpels, forceps and the like are sterilized prior to operation. Apart from the passage to the east, back to the O.R., there are only four walls around you, that don't look very interesting, and an LCD display panel facing you. There is a faint suggestion of disinfectant in the air. Strangely, there are no instruments here, just a blue cylinder. >x lcd The LCD display panel - judging by the fact that there are no switches, power lines or knobs in the vicinity, its supply source is a mystery to you. It seems to work just like it's meant to, displaying letters and numbers. (How exciting.) It currently has nothing to say. >smell air You can't see any such thing. >smell The odour of sanctity this isn't. >get panel That's hardly portable. >turn it on That's not something you can switch. >read it Though there's nothing on the panel, you fancy you can detect the glow of letters that have recently faded : Light production low. >e Operating Room This looks suspiciously like the operating room they took you to when you were much, much younger, to have your tonsils taken out. However, it's strangely empty. The only obvious exit is through a door to the west. Standing near the bed is a slightly broken trolley. >e You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >wear mask You put on the face mask. >w Instrument Room A small, narrow annexe to the O.R., where scalpels, forceps and the like are sterilized prior to operation. Apart from the passage to the east, back to the O.R., there are only four walls around you, that don't look very interesting, and an LCD display panel facing you. There is a faint suggestion of disinfectant in the air. Strangely, there are no instruments here, just a blue cylinder. >x cylinder A blue cylinder with a valve attached to it, with a black mark across one side indicating that it's been marked for disposal. One side bears a single word in red letters, with some smaller print underneath: HALOTHANE. >open valve You open the valve, and a jet of pleasant-smelling gas escapes. However, since you're wearing the face mask, it doesn't bother you. Suddenly, under the influence of the halogenated hydrocarbon vapour, writing begins to appear on the LCD panel! >x panel The LCD display panel - judging by the fact that there are no switches, power lines or knobs in the vicinity, its supply source is a mystery to you. It seems to work just like it's meant to, displaying letters and numbers. A single sentence is displayed on the panel. >read it There's just one line on the panel, which doesn't tell you much : Emergency Exit. Touch Panel to Escape. Not Verified. >touch exit You can't see any such thing. >touch panel As you reach out for the panel, you can feel it suddenly open out and swell, until it becomes a door of sorts. Hesitantly, you step into the door..... [Please press SPACE....] First Interposition - Invasion of Privacy Driveway, Outside House You stand, hesitantly, on a futuristic-looking driveway, feeling that you've somehow been here before. There is nothing to guide you, except a door standing east of you, and a sign next to it. Even the name on the sign sounds familiar, though you can't remember why. The door to the house, not at all imposing, is closed. [Your score has just gone up by six points.] >i You are carrying nothing. >