#couron

Map Wall - Several maps have been attached to a bulletin board hidden inside the alcove. They're held up by small pins. The board has come loose from one corner.

Map Wall - The maps look old and faded. Your eye catches a map of Insulinde, a map of Revachol, and a map of Martinaise.

You - Look at the map of Revachol.

Map Wall - The north coast of a verdant island is shattered by the delta of a river. It is the River Esperance. Countless bridges put the shards back together, connecting city blocks to river islands. *La Delta*, says a great, artificial heart in the centre, teeming with lifeforms and construction.

Map Wall - To the east, rolling hillsides: Le Jardin, Stella Maris, the suburbs of Saint-Batiste, swallowed up into the megacity. They sound *rich* to you. This is Revachol East.

You - And west of the river?

Map Wall - Couron. It's somewhere to live. Not bad. Then there's Jamrock -- it's *bad*. People shouldn't live there, but they do. Then Faubourg -- it's almost *as* bad and much larger. Then Coal City. It's the worst.

You - And Martinaise?

Map Wall - It's so small you can't even see it on the map. No... wait. There it is! North of Jamrock, the strip of coast next to the Greater Revachol Industrial Harbour. It looks downright despondent. It's almost Coal City, to be honest.

Shivers - No. Coal City is worse. A charred limb. Rain falls on its slick black streets. And then there's the Burnt-Out Quarter in the heart of Jamrock... is it cold in this bookstore, or is it just *you*?

Volition - No. This is somewhere to be. This is all you have, but it's still something. Streets and sodium lights. The sky, the world. You're still alive.

Shivers - All around you, rain falls on the great city of Revachol. Rain drips from the eaves and floods the gutters, washing the filth away.

Shivers - The spring thaw must be here. The snow is melting...

You - What am I doing?

Shivers - Looking up at the sky, cold water dripping from your hair.

You - What do I see?

Shivers - Grey sky like great battleships, clouds colliding with one another. Rain falls down on the world.

You - How does it feel?

Shivers - Your shirt sticks to your chest. The shoulders of your disco blazer grow heavy. The cold finds its way in under your skin. You shiver, and the city shivers with you.

Composure - You're not dressed for this weather. You should get an overcoat, or a patrol cloak.

You - What is in the west?

Shivers - Sheets of rain over the water. A flight of stairs leading into the ocean. Wave after wave washing the coast of Martinaise, with its motorboats and gently swaying reeds.

Shivers - The ruins of a half-sunken seafort crumble on an inlet. Beyond the Bay of Revachol, ghosts rise into the sky.

You - Who are you, ghosts?

Shivers - The skyscrapers of La Delta, the financial district. Faint golden light seeps from the office windows.

Inland Empire - Will you ever go there?

You - Will I?

Shivers - No. You are just one of the hundreds of thousands who watch them rise across the bay from Martinaise every day.

You - What is down the shore?

Shivers - Urban coastline, rain dripping off eternite-covered roofs. Cinder blocks left over from half-finished construction. A defunct research and development building once seized by revolutionaries. An old wooden church stands on stilts above the water.

You - And beyond that?

Shivers - Coal City, end of all lines.

You - Run your fingers through your dampened hair.

Shivers - Your hair is an oily mess flecked with ash from neighbouring coal plants. Smoke stacks rise somewhere in the distance.

You - What's in the east?

Shivers - The great gates of the industrial harbour are locked. A chill runs down your back. You shudder like an animal trying to shake water from its hide.

You - Clench your teeth to stop shuddering.

Shivers - Behind the gates -- heaps of supply crates. Red and blue metal shipping containers slick with rain. The Greater Revachol Industrial Harbour is an artificial mountain range. Immense wealth resides within, and immeasurable poverty in its shadow.

You - And before that?

Shivers - You -- on the Martinaise plaza. A small dot looking up at the sky. Droplets form on your eyelashes.

You - And beyond that?

Shivers - La Drisienne, King Dris's Passenger Harbour. Cruise ships flanked by dock arms. Cranes watching over the mouth of the river distributary.

You - What is across the distributary?

Shivers - Couron, the lower middle class. Distributary after distributary cuts the city blocks in half. Seven-story buildings trail off into the rain.

You - What is beyond the Couron?

Shivers - A silvery curtain of rain over the houses. The class divide.

Rhetoric - You have never been there. They don't need the law east of the river.

You - What's in the north?

Shivers - Capeside apartments -- tower blocks crowd one another, 4.46 mm bullets still lodged in their war-torn stone walls.

Shivers - Hallways collapsed from the mortar hits of a war that was lost long ago. Clotheslines go to waste in the rain. Radios play.

Rhetoric - The morning news.

You - And closer to here?

Shivers - A yard. Rain falls onto the roof of a woodshed. Filthy water pools around a body. Droplets of rain slip from the dead man's cold cheeks.

You - What's in the south?

Shivers - A traffic jam. Rain thrumming on the roofs of motor vehicles. Inside, drivers watch water streaming down their windshields. The statue of a king shudders, he too is cold. The canal bridge has been raised.

You - What's on the other side?

Shivers - The road ascends; a raised motorway loops above the ghetto. Beneath its concrete columns -- a sea of rooftops, woodwork, and tar stretches northward. Four-story buildings as far as the rain can fall. The snows melt in Jamrock.

You - What is Jamrock?

Shivers - Revachol is the capital of the world. Jamrock is the capital of Revachol. Droplets form on your eyelashes.

Inland Empire - It's home.

You - Why am I not there?

Shivers - To be in Martinaise, where no one goes. At the run-off point of a long-forgotten canal, in the whitest part of town. In the shadow of the day the Revolution failed.

You - What am I doing here?

Shivers - Standing in the rain, looking north, where Jamrock Rock City stretches inland.

You - Where do I live?

Shivers - On a street there that flows like a muddy river in the snow, with fire traps rising on either side. A film rental opens its doors to the rain, an armoured motor carriage rushes past the corner where you used to walk together... Suddenly, the hair on your back rises.

Shivers - YOU CANNOT RETURN.