Alien Abduction?
by Charles Gerlach (1996)
Genres: Alien Visitation


action: %
response: Useful information about the game is contained in the "hint" menu.

Coming over the crest of the thickly wooded hill, you see the
decrepit shack that has always been your home. Your long walks through the Appalachian hills usually help clear your mind. You had hoped that the throbbing, insistent pain behind your eyes would go away with this one. You still don't want to admit it, but this pain is exactly how it felt the last two times. You better get your camera. After all, this is why you bought it.

You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, standing ankle deep in autumn leaves. The path you are walking on leads to the south. Your trusty thinking stump is right beside the path here.
action: You examine the stump
response: You have many fond memories of sitting on this stump in the dappled shade and contemplating life.
action: Inventory
response: You are empty-handed.
action: You stand
response: You push to your feet.
action: Go north
response: The peeling paint reveals the low quality lumber used to build this house. You've noticed that the house groans and protests more every winter. In many ways, you're amazed it has survived this long. The screen door leans against the house, having pulled free of the rotting door frame several months ago. There is a huge patch of weeds to the northwest that used to be a garden. The back door is to the north, and the path back over the hill leads south.
action: You pull the weeds
response: It's too far away.
action: Yes
response: Watch the skies!
action: %
response: Useful information about the game is contained in the "hint" menu.

Coming over the crest of the thickly wooded hill, you see the
decrepit shack that has always been your home. Your long walks through the Appalachian hills usually help clear your mind. You had hoped that the throbbing, insistent pain behind your eyes would go away with this one. You still don't want to admit it, but this pain is exactly how it felt the last two times. You better get your camera. After all, this is why you bought it.

You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, standing ankle deep in autumn leaves. The path you are walking on leads to the south. Your trusty thinking stump is right beside the path here.
action: You go northwest
response: You dread going past what's left of your garden in order to get to your well. The weeds stand tall in the cool fall air, mocking you.

The pain in your head gets much worse, whether from getting a closer look at you garden or from the impending 'visit', you aren't sure. It goes away when you return to the back door.
action: You examine the weeds
response: You and Maybel planted the garden together in the spring, before your headaches started. After the headaches and the visits started, you picked what you could and let the rest go to seed.
action: You go southeast
response: Your house is to the north, and the path is to the south. There's no sense in plundering through the woods until it's absolutely necessary.
action: You go north
response: As you grab the doorknob, the pain in your head gets worse. You rub the bridge of your nose, hoping that will help. It doesn't. You don't have much time now, so you press into the house.

"Is your headache gone?" Maybel turns from the sink to look at you. Soapy water drips from the ends of her fingers as she looks at you carefully, taking in your shaking hands, the wild look in your eyes. Her fingers clench. "When you asked me to move in with you, we made some ground rules. I don't talk about your dad, and you don't act like him. No you-ef-ohs and no skits-o-frenia, right? I've been holdin' up my end. Where the hell is yours?" She swears and turns back to the sink.

Your tiny kitchen barely has room for you and Maybel, let alone
your small appliances. The living room is to the north, and the back door is south.
Maybel is washing dishes.
action: You go to the north
response: homey. The plywood floor is mostly covered by a large throw rug. The wood-burning stove casts a cheery glow on the sagging couch and the coffee table overflowing with books. The front door leads north, your bedroom is to the west, and the kitchen is to the south.
action: You go to the west
response: This is the only bedroom in the house. Once you shared it with
your parents. Then you had it to yourself when your mom moved out and your dad went to the asylum. Now you share it with Maybel. Clothes and the old mattress that you use as a bed mostly cover the dirty plywood floor. There is one meticulously clean spot near the bed, reserved for the camera and the pictures. The living room is back east.
You see a Polaroid camera, a photo, and a set of grainy pictures
here.
action: You get the camera
response: Taken.
action: You examine photo
response: This is the one photo that you managed to take the last time this happened. You couldn't take pictures when "it" was overhead because of all of the wild, incomprehensible thoughts they sent screaming through your brain. They let go of your mind only when you were almost unconscious. The ship started moving off over the tree-tops. You managed to get the polaroid up to snap a picture of the receding light through the branches of the trees. It's not enough to convince anyone else, but it might be enough for you. Something to help you believe that you're not as crazy as your father-- if your father really is crazy.
action: You look at the pictures
response: Every time you look at these pictures you think of your father giving the film to you. He was home just to pick up some clothes before the sheriff drove him out to the asylum. He pulled the undeveloped roll out from under the mattress and pressed it into your hand, saying, "Believe. You're my son. They'll come for you too." That was ten years ago. The developed pictures are blurred and grainy, but unmistakably the same thing that has already visited you twice. Judging from the pain in your head, a third visit is on the way.
action: Go south
response: Maybel is washing dishes.
action: You give the camera to Maybel
response: "Oh, go take yer pictures in the woods," Mabel spits the words at you, "Maybe you can sell 'em to the Nah-shun-el En-choir-er!" She snorts. "Wouldn't that be funny. You makin' money off this. Ha!"
action: About yourself
response: Assuming you haven't lost your grip on reality, you are Isaiah Knott, a twenty-seven year old man from the Appalachian mountains. You are wearing your comfortable jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and hiking boots.

You have a hellishly bad headache that's threatening to get worse.
action: You look at the camera
response: This is your treasured camera, the thing that will (hopefully) prove your sanity-- at least to yourself. You had to save up for a month before you could buy it.
action: You go to the north
response: homey. The plywood floor is mostly covered by a large throw rug. The wood-burning stove casts a cheery glow on the sagging couch and the coffee table overflowing with books. The front door leads north, your bedroom is to the west, and the kitchen is to the south.
action: Examine books
response: Looking at the books reminds you of meeting Maybel at the library. When you first started dating her you were both reading every trashy thriller and spy novel you could get your hands on, often over the other's shoulder. Recently, though, you've started getting more and more books about UFO's and mental health. Your reading material has slowly diverged until now you have two completely separate piles of books, encamped on opposite ends of the coffee table.
action: You read the books
response: You pick up one of the mental health books and open it. The letters are blurred, and trying to push your eyes into focus aggravates the pain behind your nose. The best thing for your mental health right now is to get you camera and get out to the clearing.
action: Go south
response: Your tiny kitchen barely has room for you and Maybel, let alone
your small appliances. The living room is to the north, and the back door is south.
Maybel is washing dishes.
action: Go south
response: You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, standing ankle deep in autumn leaves. The path you are walking on leads to the south. Your trusty thinking stump is right beside the path here.
action: Go south
response: This is the path that most of your walks follow. In general, your walks are more pleasant than this one is turning out to be. The path curves off to the southwest, but you know that if you don't head for the clearing to the southeast, the pain will start making you throw up.
action: You go to the south-east
response: You plunge off of the beaten path through the underbrush. The pain
in your head pushes you through a blur of brambles and branches. Your body presses on even after your will has given up, as if it were possible to outrun this spike of pain. Droplets of water spattering your face bring you around long enough to realize that you've just splashed through a wide, shallow stream. There isn't one within miles of your house.

sprawled on a grassy clearing that you realize the pain has stopped: you've arrived. The "ship" is already here, hovering about 30 feet up and quietly humming. Amazingly, they aren't clouding your thoughts like they did the last two times. You roll onto your back, bring the polaroid up, and start photographing the ship between labored breaths. The mechanical whine of your Polaroid drowns out the gentle hum of the ship. Picture after picture comes spewing out of the camera's mouth.

The fatigue from running catches up with you, forcing your head
back into the thick grass. Once your head is relaxed, there isn't much keeping your eyelids open. You find yourself relaxing into darkness. As your conciousness recedes, you start to feel things crawling into your hair, crawling in and you need to lift your head, lift your head up right now and push out of the darkness, get away from the things crawling in your hair, lift your head and

wake up.

You blink your eyes, and see that you're in a hospital ward. Even after getting up, it takes you several moments to realize that this can't possibly be a hospital. There's no bed, no instruments-- no doors, for that matter. There is only blinding whiteness and sterility all around you.

The room is of uniform whiteness, and far too bright. The air
tastes odd; perhaps it is the lack of any detectable odors that makes it strange.

A deep breath brings in a faint hint of nervous sweat-- your own. At least you can smell something.
action: You smell yourself
response: There is just the faintest hint of nervous sweat about you.
action: You stand
response: You're already standing!

A section of one wall turns to a thick white mist. An alien steps through the mist, which becomes seamless wall again. The alien raises its slender hand, palm toward you.
action: You hit alien
response: You strike at the alien, but your blows are stopped by an invisible force. The alien shakes its head and steps through the wall.
action: Hello
response: The alien stands and blinks its large eyes for a few seconds. Finally you see its mouth curl into a tiny smile and its head bobs politely.

The alien gestures to its right, and a yellow square slides out of the wall and hovers by its hand.
action: You look at the square
response: If ever there were a perfectly two dimensional object, this would be it. It looks like someone has found a way to apply yellow paint directly onto a square swatch of thin air.

The alien is repeatedly opening and closing its tiny mouth and patiently gesturing with its delicate arms. First it points to the yellow square, then it points to its own mouth, and repeats.
action: You eat square
response: The yellow square doesn't appear appetizing.

The alien is repeatedly opening and closing its tiny mouth and patiently gesturing with its delicate arms. First it points to the yellow square, then it points to its own mouth, and repeats.
action: You say square
response: You should say what you want to say in double quotes, for example, SAY "HELLO".

The alien moves toward you and gently pushes your jaw up and down before retreating again and pointing at the square. It seems the alien wants you to say something. Something about the square, probably.
action: You talk to the square
response: I suppose you can talk to it, but it can't hear you.

The alien is repeatedly opening and closing its tiny mouth and patiently gesturing with its delicate arms. First it points to the yellow square, then it points to its own mouth, and repeats.
action: You look at shapes
response: Which shapes do you mean, the red cube on the left, the yellow sphere in the middle, or the blue pyramid on the right?
action: You examine cube
response: A soft red light effuses from the floating cube.
action: You look around
response: The room is of uniform whiteness, and far too bright. The air
tastes odd; perhaps it is the lack of any detectable odors that makes it strange.

There are three floating shapes and a large green button in the floor. You see a red cube on the left, a yellow sphere in the middle, and
a blue pyramid on the right here.
action: You look at the button
response: It is a sturdy green button set in the floor.
action: You press the button
response: A green spot, a yellow spot and a black spot twirl into existence. They dance about your head for a moment, and then spin out of sight.
action: You feel cube
response: You tug on the cube, trying to pull it out of its appointed spot. It refuses to budge, although it seems like you could turn it or push it.
action: Turn sphere
response: Which sphere do you mean, the red sphere on the left, or the yellow sphere in the middle?
action: Red
response: You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from red to yellow.
action: You look around
response: The room is of uniform whiteness, and far too bright. The air
tastes odd; perhaps it is the lack of any detectable odors that makes it strange.

There are three floating shapes and a large green button in the floor. You see a yellow sphere on the left, a yellow sphere in the middle, and a blue pyramid on the right here.
action: You turn left
response: You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from yellow to blue.
action: You turn left
response: You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.

You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from red to yellow.
action: You turn left
response: You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.
action: You press the button
response: A green spot, a red spot, and a black spot twirl into existence. They dance about your head for a moment, and then spin out of sight.
action: You look at the shape
response: Which shape do you mean, the red sphere on the left, the yellow sphere in the middle, or the blue pyramid on the right?
action: You turn blue
response: You grab the floating pyramid and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.
action: Exit
response: You step through the door, which promptly disappears. It takes you a few seconds to adjust to the scene around you. Eventually, the message gets through to your brain that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, surrounded
by trees and spring-time air. The familiar path beneath your feet leads south, just like it always has. A thick fog in the distance obscures a normally beautiful view of the surrounding hilltops. There's something subtly wrong with the whole situation, but you can't quite put your finger on it-- something about the trees.
action: You look at the trees
response: You stare at the trees for a long time before you realize what's wrong. Even though the surface of the trees looks rough, their edges are perfectly smooth. It's as though someone took a smooth cylinder and pasted a picture of rough bark on top of it.

As you get caught up in this discovery, you almost fail to notice the initials carved into one of the prominent trees near the path. A tree that you don't remember at all.
action: You look at the initials
response: This tree stands precisely on the spot where your thinking stump should be. As you look at the tree, and the initials carved in it, you can almost feel a glimmer of recognition in the back of your mind, but you're still too befuddled by the loss of your stump. Worse yet, there's no good place to sit and think about this.
action: You read the initials
response: The initials are the classic lovers pair, wrapped in a heart:

P. K.
+
E. M.

Peter Knott and Esther Minnow. Mom and Dad. The ten year old memory pushes its way to the front of your mind: Mom tearfully packing her few things, Dad alternately yelling at her and pleading with her. It wasn't until Aunt Betty picked her up and they drove out of sight that it really hit Dad. He took an axe out the back door and attacked the tree that had witnessed his proposal to her. It was a thick tree. Curses and saliva kept flying out of his mouth in an almost constant stream as he kept chopping. You couldn't bear to watch him and took a long walk through the woods, but it didn't help. The relentless chopping echoed off of the hilltop like rifle fire. It was a couple hours later that you heard the tree fall.

After he went to the asylum, you sawed off all of the splinters and turned the stump into a seat. Now, amazingly, it's a tree once again-- initials and all.
action: You listen
response: You stand still and carefully listen to the woods. No birds are singing, no leaves are rustling. The trees are still and silent.
action: You go north
response: The building to the north looks far too good to be your house. It sports new aluminum siding and shingles; the screen door is in place and freshly painted. Off to the northwest, the garden is an explosion of color. The path through the woods leads back south.
action: You go to the northwest
response: The garden that you let go to weed is flourishing here. Tulips add color to the first greens of the vegetables pushing up through the ground. The well is here, surrounded by flowers. The front of the house is to the northeast and the back is to the southeast.
You see a broken hoe here.
action: You examine the hoe
response: It is painfully obvious that the hoe is broken beyond repair. The break in the middle of the handle is completely smooth; it looks sawed through, not broken.
action: You take the hoe
response: Taken.
action: Go north
response: The screen door doesn't even squeak. Amazing.

The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
action: Go north
response: Your eyes try to take stock of the familiar-yet-not living room, but they are instead immediately drawn to the figure on the couch, who rises and walks toward you, hand extended. "Isaiah! You're here!
Let me have a look at you!"

Your brain reels. It's your father, looking exactly like he did before he went insane ten years ago.

"You've really grown up, huh? Having to take care of your mom these past couple months? Well, now that they've got you too, maybe this testing will go faster. They'll take us home soon. Have a seat." He resumes his place on the couch.

Click.
action: You talk to Dad
response: You try to make a little polite conversation, but with a ten-year gulf and who knows what else between you, awkward silences dominate your conversation. Soon you give up.

Click.
action: You listen
response: You listen carefully for the noise, and eventually determine that it's coming from your dad. You watch him attentively, and see that the noise happens when he blinks. It's kind of like the clicking of a camera shutter.

Click.
action: You examine dad
response: Your father's face is a memory come true. He is almost precisely the man taken to the asylum ten years ago-- except his eyes have lost their spark. He looks complacent and lifeless.

Click.
action: You look at the hoe
response: It is painfully obvious that the hoe is broken beyond repair. The break in the middle of the handle is completely smooth; it looks sawed through, not broken.

Click.
action: You go north
response: With all the other changes, it really shouldn't bother you that the front door works and leads down nice concrete steps to the yard and driveway. It gives you the willies anyway.

The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: You examine Pontiac
response: The old, familiar Pontiac sits in the driveway. It looks to be in pretty good shape, considering you sold it to the scrap yard four years ago. The keys are in the ignition.
action: Go south
response: The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.
Your dad is sitting on the couch.

Click.
action: You kill Dad with the hoe
response: You grapple with your father, who pushes who back with incredible strength. "What the hell was that for?"

Click.
action: Go north
response: The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: You enter the car
response: You'll have to get out of the big, blue Pontiac first.
action: You drive
response: that seems like the best place to go. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you don't have a choice. The view of the road in front of you is unobstructed, but about fifty feet off the road on either side is a thick, opaque fog. You turn off on one of the side streets, thinking, "It's only fog." When the car pushes into the fog, you literally cannot see anything beyond the car itself. You nudge the car forward at about five miles per hour, and eventually see a trace of road in front of you. With your eyes fixed on the line down the middle of the road, you slowly accelerate until the fog starts to lift. Looking up, you see that you're back on the road heading into town.

Resignedly, you follow the road into town. If you were expecting
to be comforted by the sight of other people, you remain unconsoled. No one else is driving on the streets, no one is out walking. The few houses brave enough to stick out of the fog are all dark and silent. The marked path of road comes to a stop right in front of Pop's market. You park in the prime two-hour spot right in front of the store. There doesn't seem to be a lot of competition for it.
action: Look around
response: Outside Pop's, in the big, blue Pontiac
Now that you're at the end of the road, the fog has spread out just enough to give you a taste of town. What you can see is exactly like you remember it, perhaps a little cleaner, a bit newer. Pop's store stands before you to the south, and the library sits regally to the north, the two real landmarks of Springfield.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: Exit
response: Now that you're at the end of the road, the fog has spread out just enough to give you a taste of town. What you can see is exactly like you remember it, perhaps a little cleaner, a bit newer. Pop's store stands before you to the south, and the library sits regally to the north, the two real landmarks of Springfield.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: You enter library
response: It's too far away.
action: You go to the north
response: You head towards the library, not quite sure what you're looking for, but hopeful that you'll find something useful. You stride up the steps, pull the door open, and come up against a wall of fog, just beyond the doorway. Holding your arms out in front of you, you press into the fog, but you still end up coming back out of the library.
You retreat to Pop's stoop.
action: Go south
response: The comforting familiarity of Pop's storefront vanishes when you enter. All of the aisles are barren and empty. The candy display visible from outside is conspicuously absent. The only reason you have to think that this is actually Pop's store is a young-looking Pop standing behind the counter.

Pop looks at you and grins. "Howdy, Isaiah! Looks like you got on board okay." He takes in your slack-jawed expression for a moment.
"I 'spose you're wonderin' how old Pop got himself on board this ship when you probably saw him just a couple of days ago in town, lookin' a lot older. The answer is that I ain't Pop, just a robot that looks and acts a lot like him.
"I'm tellin' you this up front so you won't think I'm trying to
hide stuff from you. We tried not telling your dad right away, but when he figured it out, boy was he sore! He still won't come into town.
"Anyhow, I'm here to help you out. I'll tell you everything I
know, but I warn you now that I don't know everything. If anything breaks, bring it to me and I'll try to fix it. 'Kay?"
Pop is standing behind the counter.

Click.
action: You give the hoe to Pop
response: Pop takes the pieces of the broken hoe and looks them over. "Broke again, eh? That's only the fourth time this month. I think our hosts are finally startin' to realize that they just can't make good tools with their fields. Lucky for you, they picked up an actual hoe when they got you. Only costs a crystal duck."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about Dad
response: "To tell you the truth, our hosts are gettin' a bit worried about him. When he first looked like he was down in the dumps, they figured it was just the stress of the asylum and what-not. They figured out how to make him forget all about that, but he still doesn't seem up to his old self, you know? That's one of the big reasons they started talkin' to you. Maybe you can snap him out of it."

Click.
action: You listen
response: You carefully watch Pop to make sure. Yep, he clicks when he blinks.

Click.
action: You ask Pop about the aliens
response: "A little curious about your 'hosts', eh? Well, it seems to me they're a pretty friendly bunch, but that they can't figure out how we think. I think all this abduction nonsense is designed to get us where they can figure us out. They've got more of a hive mind, if you know what I mean."

Click.
action: Inventory
response: You are empty-handed.

Click.
action: You ask Pop about the duck
response: "Haven't seen the duck yet? Well, it's at the fork in the path behind your house. Of course you'll have to figure out how to get it on your own."

Click.
action: You drive
response: It's a relief to be driving out of town. There usually aren't a lot of people at your house, so at least you can pretend that things are normal when you don't see any.

Eventually you pull in the driveway.
action: Exit
response: The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: Go south
response: The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.
Your dad is sitting on the couch.

Click.

The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
action: You go south
response: You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, surrounded
by trees and spring-time air. The familiar path beneath your feet leads south, just like it always has. A thick fog in the distance obscures a normally beautiful view of the surrounding hilltops. You are surrounded by artificial trees. One of them has initials carved into it.
action: You go south
response: The path leads north and south here.

The wooded path curves to the southwest here.
action: You look around
response: The wooded path curves to the southwest here.
action: Go southwest
response: This is the major hub of this path. It splits to the south and
west, and taking either fork will eventually get you back here from from the other direction. Right at the forking of the path is a huge, menacing contraption.
action: You examine the contraption
response: The large metal contraption is fairly straightforward in design. It has a platform that comes up to your chest, supporting a hollow, transparent cylinder. It also has an axe, connected to a large, tightly wound spring arm, ready to sweep horizontally across the top of the cylinder. Presumably, the purpose of the axe is to discourage the theft of the beautiful crystalline duck, resting serenely in the cylinder.
action: You take duck
response: You reach into the cylinder, wondering how good of an idea this is. You lift the duck, and you simultaneously hear a mechanical chuff and feel your forearm explode in pain. You grab at the axe with your other hand, and pull it back far enough to let your arm escape with the duck. The bruise is already becoming visible.
action: You look at the arm
response: Which arm do you mean, the spring arm, or the bruise on your arm?
action: You wait for a while
response: Time passes...
action: You examine the duck
response: The duck is made from clear crystal that looks exactly like a rush of spring water, frozen in time. Its curves are unblemished, and its form is serene and beautiful.
action: Go northeast
response: You start heading back up the path toward your house. As the trail curves around a large tree, you are startled to find an alien standing in the middle of the path, shaking its head.

There's a sharp prick in your neck, and you slap at the pain and spin around to see what it was. You are dismayed to find that the world continues spinning past you even though you are sure your body has stopped. You slump to the ground...

and awaken in the woods near the contraption.
action: Inventory
response: You are empty-handed.
action: You examine the contraption
response: The large metal contraption is fairly straightforward in design. It has a platform that comes up to your chest, supporting a hollow, transparent cylinder. It also has an axe, connected to a large, tightly wound spring arm, ready to sweep horizontally across the top of the cylinder. Presumably, the purpose of the axe is to discourage the theft of the beautiful crystalline duck, resting serenely in the cylinder.
action: You examine the spring
response: The torsional spring about the axis of this arm looks very strong and very strained. Practically anything could set it off.
action: You take the duck
response: You reach into the cylinder, wondering how good of an idea this is. You lift the duck, and are knocked to the ground by explosive noise and pain.

Shortly before you go into shock, you realize that your arm is missing below the elbow. Shortly after, you stop caring.
action: You go northeast
response: The wooded path curves to the southwest here.
action: Go north
response: The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
action: Go west
response: The gravel road into town is long and boring. It would be a lot easier to drive.
action: Go southwest
response: The garden that you let go to weed is flourishing here. Tulips add color to the first greens of the vegetables pushing up through the ground. The well is here, surrounded by flowers. The front of the house is to the northeast and the back is to the southeast.
action: You ask Dad about the duck
response: "They had me solve that duck puzzle too. Huh. Guess they're seeing if we work the same way. After I got the duck, I wondered what would have happened if I had just grabbed the duck without..." He looks at you, realizing that he's about to give too much away. "...solving it first." He finishes lamely.

Click.
action: You look at the microwave
response: The appliances aren't important.

All of the appliances look new and spotless. In fact, they look quite unused.
action: You go to the south
response: You walk about twenty feet before coming to a wall of dense fog. You press into it, but come out right where you entered, even though you never felt yourself turn around.
action: About yourself
response: Assuming you haven't lost your grip on reality, you are Isaiah Knott, a twenty-seven year old man from the Appalachian mountains. You are wearing your comfortable jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and hiking boots.
action: Go west
response: The bedroom has also learned of the wonders of carpeting, and your shoddy mattress has been replaced with a beautiful brass bed. In the south-west corner of the room is a giant metal cylinder with rounded ends. It stands well over eight feet tall, and comes close to brushing the ceiling. The only break in the seamless metal is a pad protruding out of its side.
action: Examine pad
response: In many of the abduction stories that you read, there were cylinders like this one that contained other abductees. This one is certainly large enough.

A keypad protrudes from the cylinder's side and has nine keys, each with a different alien symbol on it.

Since you stand little chance of deciphering the nine different alien symbols, you decide to treat the three by three grid of buttons as a touch-tone phone and mentally number it that way.
action: Type 123456789
response: (on the keypad)
You start pressing buttons. The keypad buzzes sharply at you when you finish.
action: You look at the pad
response: Since you stand little chance of deciphering the nine different alien symbols, you decide to treat the three by three grid of buttons as a touch-tone phone and mentally number it that way.
action: You ask Dad about the pad
response: "Never heard of it. Sorry."

Click.
action: You ask Dad about the cylinder
response: "You noticed that too, huh? When I first got here, I was real suspicious about that thing, so I hung around the bedroom a lot. An alien came in and punched in a code, and a window opened up in it.
The code was 5222." He types on an imaginary keypad in front of him. "I guess my watching made them suspicious. That night, when I tried to look through the window, they snuck up and hit me with one o' those hypos-- took me right out. I woke up in my bed the next morning. I went back and looked through the window again, but it was empty." He stops and thinks for a minute. "I think that was when they took the wires out of my head, too." He reaches over and gives one of the wires on your head a playful tweak.

Click.
action: You examine the head
response: You run your fingers back over your head, and are shocked to discover four wires (tubes? It's hard to tell from touching them) coming out of the top of your head and re-entering your skull at the base of your neck. What have they done to you?

Click.
action: You feel the wires
response: Without a mirror, it's really difficult to examine them. Just from touch, all four wires are about a quarter-inch thick, and they seamlessly attach to your attach to your skull.

Click.
action: You pull the wires
response: You firmly pull on one of the wires. It's like pulling on a large clump of your own hair. It might come free, but how much will it hurt?

Click.
action: Type 5222
response: (on the keypad)
You start pressing buttons. When you finish with the sequence, a large section of the metal cylinder slowly becomes transparent. The keypad chimes when the process completes.
action: You examine the cylinder
response: In many of the abduction stories that you read, there were cylinders like this one that contained other abductees. This one is certainly large enough.

Now you have a chance to see what is inside the enigmatic cylinder. A large rectangle of the cylinder has become a dark window to the interior.

A keypad protrudes from the cylinder's side and has nine keys, each with a different alien symbol on it.
action: You examine the window
response: Without any light coming from within the cylinder, you are forced to press your face up against the window and cup your hands around your eyes. At first you can see nothing but a small ball of faintly glowing blue light. As your eyes adjust to the darkness within, you can tell that the faint glow is like a turbulent lightning storm; there are localized pockets of activity which occasionally leap across the length of the ball, lighting up new regions in a chaotic pattern.

You continue to watch, fascinated, until you realize that the blue glow is faintly illuminating what's beneath it: your face. Somehow, you are looking at your own body inside of the cylinder, except that your head is open and there is a glowing ball where your brain should be.

Tingles slide down your scalp, and the faintly glowing brain within the cylinder explodes with arcs of color and flashes of light. As the shock passes, the tingles on your scalp recede, and the glowing brain dims to its previous state.

Your heart crawls into your throat as you wait for what you think might happen. Finally, you see your alternate self blink, and hear a faint 'tik' through the skin of the cylinder.
action: About yourself
response: Assuming you haven't lost your grip on reality, you are Isaiah Knott, a twenty-seven year old man from the Appalachian mountains. You are wearing your comfortable jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and hiking boots.

There are four wires protruding out of your head.
action: You look at the window
response: You press against the window again, grotesquely fascinated with your doppleganger inside. The chaotic lightshow emanating from its open skull is fascinating and disconcerting. The faint, regular ticks float out to you as your other self blinks.
action: You pull the wire
response: You firmly pull on one of the wires. It's like pulling on a large clump of your own hair. It might come free, but how much will it hurt?
action: You ask Dad about the wires
response: "Aw, don't worry about those. They'll take 'em out after a couple days." He proffers the top of his slightly balding head for your inspection. "See?"

Click.
action: You ask Dad about yourself
response: "I told ya' they'd come for you." His forehead creases a notch. "I thought they'd give you more than a couple o' months, though."

Click.
action: You ask Dad,  to go west
response: "I'm tellin' you, it's empty. Code's 5222, go look yourself."

Click.

"I just don't feel like doin' much of anything."

Click.
action: You go east
response: You can't go that way.

Click.
action: Go north
response: The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: You drive
response: As you drive into town, you carefully scan the oppressive fog for any weakness. Occasionally you drive down one of the other side roads, but you always end up heading toward town. You roll to a stop in front of Pop's market.
action: Exit
response: Now that you're at the end of the road, the fog has spread out just enough to give you a taste of town. What you can see is exactly like you remember it, perhaps a little cleaner, a bit newer. Pop's store stands before you to the south, and the library sits regally to the north, the two real landmarks of Springfield.
You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
action: You go to the south
response: The comforting familiarity of Pop's storefront vanishes when you enter. All of the aisles are barren and empty. The candy display visible from outside is conspicuously absent. The only reason you have to think that this is actually Pop's store is a young-looking Pop standing behind the counter.
Pop is standing behind the counter.

Click.
action: You ask Pop about cylinder
response: "That big cylinder in your room? It's just monitoring stuff. Don't worry about it."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about 5222
response: I don't know how to ask anything about the number 5222.

Click.
action: You tell Pop about the cylinder
response: It doesn't look as though Pop is interested.

Click.
action: You ask Pop about the wires
response: "Aw, don't worry about those. Once the aliens get all their stuff set up right, they'll take those out again."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about the axe
response: Pop scratches his chin. "I'm afraid I wasn't told 'bout any axe. Maybe if you showed me."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about the contraption
response: "Reckon I don't know too much about that."

Click.
action: You show the bruise to pop
response: "Hoo! That's a doozy!"

Click.
action: You show the bruise to Dad
response: "Huh! Helluva bruise, son."

Click.
action: You examine well
response: This well, like the wood-burning stove inside of the house, was one of the few things of quality you've always had. For as long as you can remember, it has always provided clear, sweet water. It's about two and a half feet in diameter and lined with white stones. A board is mortared into the top of it as an anchor for the rope.
action: You examine the board
response: This board is firmly attached to the top of the well. Its purpose is simply to stop the rope from falling in.
action: You look at the rope
response: The rope is tied to the board at the top of the well, the rest dangles down into darkness.
action: You take the rope
response: You haul the bucket up out of the darkness.
action: You look at the bucket
response: The tall, narrow bucket is cool to the touch. It is full of water.
action: Inventory
response: You are empty-handed.
action: You take the bucket
response: You untie it from the rope and carry it with you.
action: You throw the water at Dad
response: You miss.

Click.
action: You pour the water on Dad
response: Just as you are about to tip the bucket out onto onto your father, he catches your hand. "Not on me! I'm real! You can pour water on anything else, though. Won't bother me a bit."

Click.
action: Inventory
response: You have a bucket. The bucket seems to contain some water.
action: You pour the water in the cylinde
response: The water fills the cylinder, covering the duck.
action: You take the duck
response: You gently reach into the water and lift the crystalline duck out. Once you get the duck past the sweep of the axe, you realize that you had been holding your breath. You let it explode out of your mouth with a gust of relief. A fresh wave of tingles crawls across your scalp.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a bucket and a duck.
action: You tell Dad about the duck
response: "They had me solve that duck puzzle too. Huh. Guess they're seeing if we work the same way. After I got the duck, I wondered what would have happened if I had just grabbed the duck without..." He looks at you, realizing that he's about to give too much away. "...solving it first." He finishes lamely.

Click.

"They had me solve that duck puzzle too. Huh. Guess they're seeing if we work the same way. After I got the duck, I wondered what would have happened if I had just grabbed the duck without..." He looks at you, realizing that he's about to give too much away. "...solving it first." He finishes lamely.

Click.
action: You show duck to pop
response: Pop lifts the crystal duck out of your hands and admires it. "Well, didn't take you too long to get that, did it?" He grins and stashes the duck behind the counter. "I'll go get that new hoe." He wanders into the back room and emerges with a brand new hoe, which he gives to you.

Click.
action: You dig the garden
response: What do you want to dig in it with?
action: You dig with the hoe
response: What do you want to dig in?
action: You hoe the vegetables
response: Although the garden itself doesn't need hoeing, you would like to hack out that unsightly clod of dirt. With a couple of well placed swings, you sever the roots clinging to the clod.
action: You look at the clod
response: It looks like an ordinary clod of dirt to me.
action: You look around
response: The garden that you let go to weed is flourishing here. Tulips add color to the first greens of the vegetables pushing up through the ground. The well is here, surrounded by flowers. The front of the house is to the northeast and the back is to the southeast.
You see a clod of dirt here.
action: You throw the clod at the cylinder
response: You miss.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a bucket, a hoe, and a clod of dirt.
action: You tie the bucket to the rope
response: You carefully tie the rope to the bucket, and drop the bucket into the well.
action: You take the rope
response: You haul the bucket up out of the darkness.
action: You take the bucket
response: You untie it from the rope and carry it with you.
action: You pour the water on the clod
response: The water flows smoothly off of the clod of dirt, leaving it as dry as if it had never been there.
action: You examine the stove
response: This stove was the one thing of quality in your house. It's comforting to see that it hasn't changed.

Click.
action: You open the stove
response: There's nothing in it. It's too warm outside.

Click.
action: You turn on the stove
response: The stove isn't important.

Click.
action: You show the clod to Dad
response: "You got that pulled up, huh? I was trying to pry it up when I snapped the hoe in two."

Click.
action: You show the hoe to Dad
response: "You always bring garden implements inside with you?"

Click.
action: You show the bucket to Dad
response: "Are you nuts, bringin' a full bucket of water inside, you'll ruin..." He looks around. "What am I saying? Everything's made out o' that electric field stuff. You couldn't ruin anything if you tried. Hell, you can't even make anything wet. Go for it. Pour away."

Click.
action: You pour the water on the floor
response: The water flows smoothly off of the ground, leaving it as dry as if it had never been there.

Click.
action: Go southwest
response: This is the major hub of this path. It splits to the south and
west, and taking either fork will eventually get you back here from from the other direction. Right at the forking of the path is a huge, menacing contraption.
The cylinder seems to contain some water.
action: You pour the water in the cylinder
response: The water spills over the top of the already full cylinder and onto the ground.
action: You examine the cylinder
response: It is a hollow cylinder, made of a clear material that you don't recognize. It is about nine inches in diameter, a foot high, and its walls are about a half an inch thick. It is full of clear water, and there is an axe poised to sweep across the top of it.
action: You go to the south
response: You walk about twenty feet before coming to a wall of dense fog. You press into it, but come out right where you entered, even though you never felt yourself turn around.
action: Inventory
response: You have a hoe, a clod of dirt, and a bucket. The bucket seems to contain some water.
action: Go north
response: The rest of the house is to the east.
action: You show the dirt to pop
response: "You got some nice topsoil there."

Click.
action: You show the hoe to pop
response: "Fine piece o' work, innit? That won't break on ya', I'll bet."

Click.
action: You show the bucket to pop
response: Pop grins and starts singing, "There's a hole in the bucket, dear Eliza..."

Click.
action: You go east
response: You try to walk to the store next door, but the wall of fog covers the doorway. Groping for the handle, you pull the door open, step inside and proceed to walk through the fog, which eventually clears, leaving you on the sidewalk in front of Pop's.
action: You pour water on Pop
response: Just as you are about to tip the bucket ontp Pop, he catches your hand. "Whoa there, Isaiah. Water 'n robots don't mix too good, if you know what I mean."

Click.
action: You examine the library
response: You look across the street at your old familiar haunt, the library.
It is a welcome sight, a possible sanctuary from your madness.
action: You go to the north
response: You head towards the library, not quite sure what you're looking for, but hopeful that you'll find something useful. You stride up the steps, pull the door open, and come up against a wall of fog, just beyond the doorway. Holding your arms out in front of you, you press into the fog, but you still end up coming back out of the library.
You retreat to Pop's stoop.
action: You ask Pop about the library
response: Pop scratches his head. "Ya know, I don't think your dad ever went into the library here on the ship. Our hosts prolly never fleshed out the inside of it."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about yourself
response: "You wanna know why yer here?" Pop shrugs. "Mostly just 'cause our hosts want to learn more about people. That, and they wanted to see if you could cheer up yer old man. He hasn't been too cooperative recently."

Click.
action: You ask Pop about Pop
response: "Wonderin' how our hosts got me to act so much like Pop? Well, I reckon' not too many people in town knew that Pop went on some serious weekend benders. About once a month he'd close down for a weekend-- he'd always say he was goin' to buy more supplies-- and head on over to Cedarsburg, check into a flophouse and get roarin' drunk. If he thought he saw aliens pokin' and proddin' him when he was drunk, well, I reckon' he just kept his mouth shut about it. Kinda puts him one up on your dad, don't it?

Click.

"Wonderin' how our hosts got me to act so much like Pop? Well, I reckon' not too many people in town knew that Pop went on some serious weekend benders. About once a month he'd close down for a weekend-- he'd always say he was goin' to buy more supplies-- and head on over to Cedarsburg, check into a flophouse and get roarin' drunk. If he thought he saw aliens pokin' and proddin' him when he was drunk, well, I reckon' he just kept his mouth shut about it. Kinda puts him one up on your dad, don't it?

Click.
action: You take the clod
response: Taken.

Click.
action: You ask Dad about Dad
response: "Aw, I'm fine, Isaiah. Let's just get all this testing over with so's we can get back home and prove we weren't nuts."

Click.
action: You ask Dad about Pop
response: "Oh, you mean that..." You watch him frown as he gropes for a distasteful enough word. "...thing that they've set up to make us feel all homey? Yeah, I've seen him. I was fooled by him for a while, but not any more. I'll take my own company over a robot's any day.

Click.
action: Inv
response: I don't know the word "abot".

I don't know the word "inv".
action: You ask Dad about Library
response: "The Library? Yeah, I remember going to the library. Before they started visiting me. I always liked it there." He starts drifting away, lost in old memories. "But then I started reading all the books about the government conspiracies to keep the aliens a secret. I read about all of the abductees, and saw their stories had to be true. I knew I wasn't nuts, but your mom decided that if I stopped reading the books, I'd stop hallucinating the ship that was visiting me." He shakes his head. "I wonder where she thinks I've been for the past couple months? Inside my own mind?"

Click.
action: You check your inventory
response: "The Library? Yeah, I remember going to the library. Before they started visiting me. I always liked it there." He starts drifting away, lost in old memories. "But then I started reading all the books about the government conspiracies to keep the aliens a secret. I read about all of the abductees, and saw their stories had to be true. I knew I wasn't nuts, but your mom decided that if I stopped reading the books, I'd stop hallucinating the ship that was visiting me." He shakes his head. "I wonder where she thinks I've been for the past couple months? Inside my own mind?"

Click.

You have a hoe, a bucket, and a clod of dirt. The bucket seems to contain some water.

Click.
action: You follow you
response: "I just don't feel like doin' much of anything."

Click.
action: You put the clod in the cylinder
response: You drop the clod into water, and the water turns murky. The axe whistles past the cylinder and swings around the spring arm several times before coming to rest.
action: You examine the axe
response: You examine the axe, carefully feeling the cool metal of its head, brushing its cutting edge with the ball of your thumb. It's real.
action: You pry axe
response: (with the hoe)
After working the blade of the hoe underneath the handle of the axe and levering it a couple of times, the axe comes free.
action: Inventory
response: You have a hoe and a bucket. The bucket seems to contain some water.
action: You go southwest
response: This is the major hub of this path. It splits to the south and
west, and taking either fork will eventually get you back here from from the other direction. Right at the forking of the path is a huge, menacing contraption.
You see an axe here. The cylinder seems to contain some water.
action: You show axe to Dad
response: Your dad raises his eyebrow. "Do I need this?"

Click.
action: You hit Dad with the axe
response: You grapple with your father, who pushes who back with incredible strength. "What the hell was that for?"

Click.
action: You listen
response: You watch your father carefully, just to be sure. Yep, he clicks when he blinks.

Click.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a hoe, a bucket, and an axe. The bucket seems to contain some water.
action: You show the axe to Pop
response: "And just what are you plannin' to do with that?"

Click.
action: You hit Pop with axe
response: You grapple with Pop, who pushes you back with incredible strength.

Click.
action: You examine the store
response: Every detail about Pop's store is perfect: the green canopy awning that got cranked in at night, the huge Jingle bell hanging on the inside of the door, even the finger smudges on the window right in front of the candy display. You can remember making some smudges of your own when you were in grade school and your dad brought you into town.
action: You go north
response: The interior of the library is filled with dense fog, but you can
just barely make out the outline of the front desk.
action: You look at the desk
response: You focus your mind on that outline of the desk. What should it look like? You close your eyes and remember the light pine base, the speckled formica on top. You feel a tric kle of sensation down your scalp. You open your eyes and see that the fog has thinned out somewhat: the desk is now only partially obscured.
action: You look around
response: The interior of the library is filled with dense fog, but the front desk is almost visible through it.
action: You examine the desk
response: You continue to look at the desk, and start thinking about little details: the thunk of the mechanical card puncher, printing the date on your library cards. The line of tickling down your head starts up again, and the fog starts blowing away from the desk. Soon you find yourself remembering the aisles of gold carpet that led to the shelves behind the front desk, and the small windows up by the vaulted ceiling. As the details begin pouring into your head, the trickle on your scalp becomes a torrent of tingling, and the fog seems to retreat at the speed of thought. Soon you are standing in the library you remember.
action: Look around
response: This is the library that you remember, the desk, the carpeting, the walls, they all feel right to you.
action: You go south
response: You can't go that way.

The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.
Your dad is sitting on the couch.

Click.

The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
action: You drive
response: You have to get in the car before you can drive it.
action: You examine the desk
response: It's not until you step towards the desk that you realize what you had been subconsciously hoping to find here. Laying on the desk are the two newspaper articles that might convince your dad of what's happened.
action: Examine newspaper
response: These are the two articles that you always come back to in the library's newspaper archives. One is yellowed and stiff, the other is only a few weeks old.
action: You read the newspaper
response: You must have read each of these articles hundreds of times, perhaps trying to glean some deeper meaning out of them, maybe just to make yourself numb to the implications. Every detail of these articles has been pressed into your being. You know every word before you read it. The first is from ten years ago:

illegal handgun  and opened fire  yesterday,
killing  one  and  critically   injuring two
others  before employees  managed to wrestle
him to the ground.

According to witnesses, he was screaming
"Wife-stealers!" repeatedly. We talked to
his  neighbors,  and learned that  Knott  is
convinced  that aliens  have  been abducting
him  for the  past  several months,  and the
stress of his claims caused his wife to move
out.

At  the  urgings  of his  lawyer,  Knott
pleaded  no contest at  his hearing  and has
been  committed  to an institution  for  the
criminally insane.

The other is from just two weeks ago:

rampage,  the people of Springfield have not
forgotten.

him early, a large crowd gathered around the
Mayor's office and staged a  loud protest on
his lawn.

Knott's release, but unless the county comes
up with more  money for  the facility,  they
will have to release twenty patients and lay
off several staff members in order to remain
operational.

A spokesman for the complex said: "We are
only thinking of releasing those individuals
that  have  responded  completely  to  their
therapy and that  we believe  pose no threat
to themselves or to others."
action: About you
response: Assuming you haven't lost your grip on reality, you are Isaiah Knott, a twenty-seven year old man from the Appalachian mountains. You are wearing your comfortable jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and hiking boots.

There are four wires protruding out of your head, and a large, painful bruise spreading across your arm.
action: You show the newspaper to pop
response: Pop takes the articles and briefly glances at them before handing them back. "These are entirely outside of my program. Sorry."

Click.
action: You show the newspaper to Dad
response: You watch your father's lips move as he scans down the articles. His brow furrows and he shakes his head several times as he reads. Finally, he looks up at you quizzically. "I don't know where you got these, but they aren't real. First of all, I've only been here a couple of months, so this one from..." He checks the date again, "ten years from now is just a plain lie." He shakes his head. "They're both lies! I've been here the whole time, I couldn't have killed anybody. Unless these aliens are body snatchers, and it was my evil twin that done it." His agitation fades as he puts the articles on the coffee table. "Ain't no way those are real." When you look back to the coffee table to retrieve the articles, they're gone.

Click.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a hoe, a bucket, and an axe. The bucket seems to contain some water.

Click.
action: You examine the desk
response: The old, familiar library desk is a welcome sight.
action: You go to the south
response: The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.

The building to the north looks far too good to be your house. It sports new aluminum siding and shingles; the screen door is in place and freshly painted. Off to the northwest, the garden is an explosion of color. The path through the woods leads back south.
action: Chop tree
response: You swing the axe and strike the initialed tree. There is a loud thunk and the impact jolts your arms. You pull the axe away and inspect the initialed tree. It appears undamaged.
action: Chop window
response: You swing the axe and strike the window. There is a loud thunk and the impact jolts your arms. You pull the axe away and inspect the window. It appears undamaged.
action: Chop cylinder
response: The metal of the cylinder appears to be much stronger than the blade of the axe. Aside from a faint scratch on the cylinder, all you have accomplished is severely dulling your axe blade.
action: Chop dad
response: [TADS-1026: wrong number of arguments to user function "<NO SYMBOL TABLE>.<NO SYMBOL TABLE>"]
action: Chop bed
response: You swing the axe and strike the brass bed. There is a loud thunk and the impact jolts your arms. You pull the axe away and inspect the brass bed. It appears undamaged.
action: Chop cylinder
response: (on the keypad)
You start pressing buttons. The keypad buzzes sharply at you when you finish.

The metal of the cylinder appears to be much stronger than the blade of the axe. Aside from a faint scratch on the cylinder, all you have accomplished is severely dulling your axe blade.
action: Type 1026
response: (on the keypad)
There are only nine keys. (You can't use zero.)
action: You tell Dad  about the cylinder
response: "Okay, okay, I'll go look at it." He gets up and wanders into the bedroom.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You have a hoe, a bucket, and an axe. The bucket seems to contain some water.

You wait for some noise from the bedroom, some sign that your dad is still functioning. Eventually you hear him say, "Bastards lied to me. They lied." There is a short pause, and then the harsh phrase "Bastards'll pay." He storms into the living room, obviously on his way towards the back door.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes...
Your dad strides angrily off to the south.
action: Go south
response: The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
Your dad strides angrily off to the south.
action: Go south
response: The building to the north looks far too good to be your house. It sports new aluminum siding and shingles; the screen door is in place and freshly painted. Off to the northwest, the garden is an explosion of color. The path through the woods leads back south.
Your dad strides angrily off to the south.
action: You wait for a while
response: Time passes...
action: Go south
response: You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, surrounded
by trees and spring-time air. The familiar path beneath your feet leads south, just like it always has. A thick fog in the distance obscures a normally beautiful view of the surrounding hilltops. You are surrounded by artificial trees. One of them has initials carved into it.
Your dad is here.

Your dad keeps running his hand over the tree with the initials carved in it, and muttering.
action: You give the axe to Dad
response: Your father looks at you for a long moment before it registers what you are offering. He accepts the axe grimly. Your dad looks at the axe solemnly for a moment, and a tear streams down his cheek. "Too many damn lies." are the only words he says before beginning to swing the axe at the tree with all of his might.

The sound of hollow thuds fills the air. You can't see any visible damage on the tree, but your father continues chopping with demented ferocity.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

Just as you are about to give up hope that the tree can be damaged, you see sparks of electricity shooting off of it, and smoke starting to rise off of its branches. Your father continues striking it with the axe, and there is a loud crackle as the tree simply winks out of existence, revealing a tall, seamless metal tower inside the spot the tree had been. Your father, unfazed at this transformation from wood to metal, starts striking up sparks and horribly denting the side of the tower with his axe.

An alien hurries down the path. Its gaze is locked on your father, and it's holding a metal prod.
action: You look at the alien
response: The alien is wielding a metal prod at your father.

You watch the alien as it approaches your father and touches the metal prod to the base of his skull. Your father stiffens and falls to the ground. The alien turns to you and holds your gaze as the ground beneath it becomes foggy and it and your father are swallowed into the hill.
action: You hit the alien with the hoe
response: As you rush the alien, you can feel that you are stepping over some internal boundary. The madness rises within you, but the only way out of it seems to be through it. You strike at the alien with the hoe, and experience what feels like an eternal moment of fear and rage. Your hand comes over your head in slow motion, yet with all of your strength behind it. You can hear your father's axe bite into the tower just as the hoe reaches the alien's face. You hear the metal of the tower yielding: a slow, tortured squeal of anguish.

The world around you begins to melt away-- the alien, your father, the hoe-- they all fade into nothing. It is only the screaming: the shrill, metallic squealing that accompanies you all the way into unconsciousness.

Your eyes come into focus on a slate-gray sky. Your arms are firmly gripped by two guards on either side of you, who are firmly escorting you towards the gates of Juniper Hill asylum. The same asylum that your father was taken to.
action: You look around
response: You've only been to Juniper Hill once before, when you had to go
sign the paperwork as your father's legal guardian-- your mom couldn't be found. It looks the same as it did then: serene, quiet, dead. Through the closed outer gates you can see the plush, well-tended lawn where the less violent inmates are allowed to go.
You see your bruise here.
The guards are gripping your arms.

Through the pain and confusion, your mind relives that instant of striking the alien over and over. Was there really an alien there to hit? If you were hallucinating, isn't it possible that what you saw as an alien was just an ordinary person? The possibilities of what you may have done start to sink in. When your dad went on his shooting spree in the restaurant ten years ago, was he seeing people, or alien faces conjured up by his own fevered imagination?

Maybe Juniper Hill is where you belong-- you and your father.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

You close the last twenty feet to the gate. The guard on your right releases your arm to go talk to the gate-keeper. The other guard clamps down painfully on your left arm. The scene around you seems to blur; is it just your eyes tearing up from the pain? You feel an all-too-familiar tingling sensation along your scalp, and the world comes into focus again.
action: You wait a while
response: Time passes...

The guard continues conferring with the gate-keeper for a moment.
action: You go south
response: You can't go that way.

The gate-keeper pushes a button, and the heavy, wrought-iron fence is hydraulically pushed open. The guard returns to your side and grabs your arm again. They escort you across the plush lawn into the freshly whitewashed building. They force you into a small room where they wrestle you into a straight-jacket, and then they take you to a classic padded cell, and put you inside. Any doubts you may have had about the reality of your situation are quickly dispelled as you rub your face against the rough canvas padding on your walls. The cell is real.

Real enough, anyway.

In a total of 542 turns, you have achieved a score of 175 points out of a possible 200. You also received 15 bonus points.

You may restore a saved game, start over, quit, or undo the current command.
action: Look around
response: The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.
Your dad strides angrily off to the south.
action: You chop Dad with the axe
response: I don't know how to chop Dad.

Your dad's murmuring gets louder, you can hear snatches of it. "...need an axe ... where? ... Think!" His mumbles trail off again.
action: You hit Dad with the axe
response: You grapple with your father, who pushes who back with incredible strength. "What the hell was that for?"

Your dad keeps running his hand over the tree with the initials carved in it, and muttering.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

Your dad's murmuring gets louder, you can hear snatches of it. "...need an axe ... where? ... Think!" His mumbles trail off again.
action: You give the axe to Dad
response: Your father looks at you for a long moment before it registers what you are offering. He accepts the axe grimly. Your dad looks at the axe solemnly for a moment, and a tear streams down his cheek. "Too many damn lies." are the only words he says before beginning to swing the axe at the tree with all of his might.

The sound of hollow thuds fills the air. You can't see any visible damage on the tree, but your father continues chopping with demented ferocity.
action: You wait
response: Time passes...

You watch the alien as it approaches your father and touches the metal prod to the base of his skull. Your father stiffens and falls to the ground. The alien turns to you and holds your gaze as the ground beneath it becomes foggy and it and your father are swallowed into the hill.
action: Go north
response: The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.

You wander aimlessly for a while, but eventually the aliens give you other puzzles to work on. You do so listlessly, thinking back to the bizarre opportunity you had with your father, and wondering what you could have done differently. Eventually, you crawl into bed, tired and confused.

When you awake the next morning, you feel a little odd. You sit up and rub your face, running your hands back over your head. Ah, that must be why you feel odd, they took the wires out last night. You yawn, stretch, and blink to clear your eyes.

Click.

In a total of 543 turns, you have achieved a score of 160 points out of a possible 200. You also received 15 bonus points.

You may restore a saved game, start over, quit, or undo the current command.
action: About yourself
response: Assuming you haven't lost your grip on reality, you are Isaiah Knott, a twenty-seven year old man from the Appalachian mountains. You are wearing your comfortable jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and hiking boots.

There are four wires protruding out of your head, and a large, painful bruise spreading across your arm. Your dad strides angrily off to the south.
action: You feel the wires
response: Without a mirror, it's really difficult to examine them. Just from touch, all four wires are about a quarter-inch thick, and they seamlessly attach to your attach to your skull.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You have a hoe and a bucket. The bucket seems to contain some water.

Just as you are about to give up hope that the tree can be damaged, you see sparks of electricity shooting off of it, and smoke starting to rise off of its branches. Your father continues striking it with the axe, and there is a loud crackle as the tree simply winks out of existence, revealing a tall, seamless metal tower inside the spot the tree had been. Your father, unfazed at this transformation from wood to metal, starts striking up sparks and horribly denting the side of the tower with his axe.

An alien hurries down the path. Its gaze is locked on your father, and it's holding a metal prod.
action: You hit alien
response: It feels dangerous to go after the alien with nothing but your bare hands, but you go for it anyway. The element of surprise is on your side, at least: the alien is completely focused on your father. As you close the final few steps to the alien, it sees you out of the corner of its eye and reflexively jerks its arm. The metal prod grazes your temple and sends a jolt of electricity through your body, hurling you to the ground, momentarily as helpless as a newborn.

You watch the alien as it approaches your father and touches the metal prod to the base of his skull. Your father stiffens and falls to the ground. The alien turns to you and holds your gaze as the ground beneath it becomes foggy and it and your father are swallowed into the hill.
action: You feel the wires
response: The guards have your arms firmly pinioned to your sides.

Through the pain and confusion, your mind relives that instant of striking the alien over and over. Was there really an alien there to hit? If you were hallucinating, isn't it possible that what you saw as an alien was just an ordinary person? The possibilities of what you may have done start to sink in. When your dad went on his shooting spree in the restaurant ten years ago, was he seeing people, or alien faces conjured up by his own fevered imagination?

Maybe Juniper Hill is where you belong-- you and your father.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are empty-handed.

You close the last twenty feet to the gate. The guard on your right releases your arm to go talk to the gate-keeper. The other guard clamps down painfully on your left arm. The scene around you seems to blur; is it just your eyes tearing up from the pain? You feel an all-too-familiar tingling sensation along your scalp, and the world comes into focus again.
action: You hit the guard
response: You flail with your free arm at the one guard still holding you, but to no avail. Even one-handed, his grip is stronger than your arm, leaving his other hand free to rebuff your attacks and get some good jabs in of his own. The other guard glances over, unconcerned.

The guard continues conferring with the gate-keeper for a moment.
action: You feel the wires
response: Without a mirror, it's really difficult to examine them. Just from touch, all four wires are about a quarter-inch thick, and they seamlessly attach to your attach to your skull.

The gate-keeper pushes a button, and the heavy, wrought-iron fence is hydraulically pushed open. The guard returns to your side and grabs your arm again. They escort you across the plush lawn into the freshly whitewashed building. They force you into a small room where they wrestle you into a straight-jacket, and then they take you to a classic padded cell, and put you inside. Any doubts you may have had about the reality of your situation are quickly dispelled as you rub your face against the rough canvas padding on your walls. The cell is real.

Real enough, anyway.

In a total of 544 turns, you have achieved a score of 175 points out of a possible 200. You also received 15 bonus points.

You may restore a saved game, start over, quit, or undo the current command.
action: You pull the wire
response: You sense that this is probably your only chance to do anything, and so you seize on the one possibility that offers you hope. You reach up with your free hand and pull on one of the wires with all of your strength. The pain is incredible. The guard realizes something is wrong when your knees give out from under you. You can hear them frantically shouting something, but the words are lost behind a fine red mist of pain. As the pain pushes you to the limits of your very being, you feel a moist ripping and the wire starts to pull free. Then, you thankfully lose consciousness.

You awaken on the ground in the clearing where you saw the ship. The morning is growing bright in the east. Stiff joints protest your weight as you stand up amongst the litter of pictures on the ground.
action: You get the pictures
response: Gathering the pictures up off of the ground, you try not to look at them, being terrified of what they may show, yet insanely curious as to what's on them. Once you have them piled in your hands, you take a deep breath and try to still your nervous heart.

Clammy fingertips far too distant and removed to be yours reach out and start flipping through the pictures. All of them seem to be identical. All of them capture bare tree branches carefully silhouetted against the full moon and the clear, starry sky. Numb fingers slowly flip identical pictures past unseeing eyes.

Your mind focuses on one part of that scene, and the more you think about it, the more clearly you see it-- the gentle face of the moon, not only looking down at you, but winking at you conspiratorially, as if it knows something that you don't.

In a total of 543 turns, you have achieved a score of 200 points out of a possible 200. You also received 15 bonus points.

You may restore a saved game, start over, quit, or undo the current command.
Please enter RESTORE, RESTART, QUIT, or UNDO: >