The Magnus Protocol 44 - Back to Basic

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Rusty Quill presents

The Magnus Protocol

Episode 44

Back to Basic

You see, this

people cannot even eat or drink without a screen now.

This coffee house deserves the strongest mukufukt, north as a spree.

The children would queue outside for the cocoa.

Now?

Now it is just all smartphones and bad coffee and French fries.

Only Americans call them french fries.

You see,

who can keep up?

Decide for Gietvient Flug.

I am uncomfortable.

You didn't have to come with me.

I am being helpful.

What exactly do you think is going to happen?

She must be what?

At least 70 by now?

You do not think the old can be dangerous.

You're different.

You're

special.

Thank you, Shan.

But you are mistaken.

The Statsi and I, we were similar in many ways.

We both relied on fear and knew how to wield it.

It's not the same.

Is that them?

Yes.

You sure?

I am sure.

Clara Vogel.

Shh.

Mrs.

Vogel.

My name is Alice Dyer.

I'm with the OIAR and

she wishes to know how you found her.

Oh, um, well,

your name was listed in some records I found with the help of my uh

experienced colleague here.

What's she saying?

Excuse me.

Look, I'm sorry.

In Schuldegun, I don't want to be all tourist about it, but Heinrich said you spoke English, and my translation app isn't keeping up.

Can we, you know

who are you to travel with him?

What?

Oh,

okay.

She was one of yours then, I take it.

I told you I am helping.

What do you want, English?

Okay, well,

I'm looking for someone.

Someone I think you may have

kept an eye on back when you were uh um

when you were younger.

Anyway, he was a computer guy, big into alchemy tattoos.

Schweitzer.

So you know who I'm talking about?

Yes, I've watched him work.

See, do you know where I can find him or no?

Oh.

I do not know where he is.

If I did, I would go and kill him myself.

Why?

What did he do to you?

Nothing you would understand.

Right.

Shall we just get down to it then, yeah?

You don't like me.

I get it.

Honestly, the feeling is mutual.

But you know something about Klaus Schweitzer, and I need to hear it.

I was going to offer you money, but I'm not really feeling that now, so let's try this instead.

You tell me what I want to know, or I tell everyone your ecstasy, and then we see how people react.

Ha!

And then what?

They beat an old woman to death?

These fat, lazy children have no stomach for such work.

Your threats do not frighten me, English.

Abadas to ech, mich war, Klar.

Eskipped, I met medchin klein und wein die zo ge klach.

Sie hast die kine sput gemein.

Sie spielt ni mit dem Schwander.

Sie klach die jungs die buse shrein und netchin die siege necken.

Sie lis sie buchen, salt esheim.

Biez alle sie wishtecken.

O Arme klach,

alt und star, Tan kin Wilmit I Spielen and then can Lachen kint me Klaar Bil Heinrich Zie ein Stielen

Schaum ein Kla

Schaumich

at Melite Werd Spielen ya Ich Werd Spielen auf English Klaar

the harben ein gas

I will talk

Christ Heinrich what did you tell her

just remembering old times.

So, Clara,

tell me everything you know about Klaus Schweitzer.

The first time I saw Klaus Schweitzer, I was watching

Schwarzman?

Squad?

Yeah, in Penslauber.

They thought they were punks, radicals, would-be anarchists.

He was easy to see.

His skin was covered in tattoos, strange diagrams on his arms, his chest, even his face.

They reminded me of my grandmother.

She also held folk beliefs.

He visited the squad a few times, and I would have taken him if he was not already on the list.

We needed computer people.

I was chosen to make the offer because I was young and beautiful, and he was ugly.

It was the right decision.

It was very easy.

After we raided the squad, I made him the offer.

He could work computers for me or join his punk friends.

He agreed, of course.

But I do not know if it was because he wanted me or because he feared me.

Perhaps both, I think.

I knew from his fights he was a computer coder from HFE.

Good at statistics.

at predicting people.

This was useful to us.

My superiors tired of arresting the guilty.

Better to stop them before they could commit the crimes.

The program was to track the fears of the targets and so predict disorder and disloyalty.

Find the traitors before they knew themselves.

It was a grand dream.

Schweitzer did not want to work for us, but the idea.

He longed for it, I think.

More even than he longed for me.

So I gave him computers, files, data.

Always he was asking for data.

When he tired, I would encourage him.

I was not very good at this, but when he was slow or stupid, I would scold him.

This I was very good at.

Soon he could not eat, could not drink, could not breathe without checking if it pleased me.

And if it did not.

I did my duty and ensured he did his.

He was an ugly, foolish man, but his work, his work was strange, almost wonderful, but never correct.

No matter how I loved him, how I hurt him, he could not make it work.

Again and again he failed, and so my superiors began to question me.

So I pushed him harder.

Too hard.

By the end, he did not know where the love ended and the fear began.

But all that mattered is that we both knew he was mine.

He could not live without me, and I wanted code, so he would code or die.

I left him to work alone that final time.

He was already mine and would not disobey.

I left him with food for one week and returned after two.

By then, he stank like a caged dog and he could not speak.

But the work

I did not understand the code.

It was

Kaudervech.

But the symbols.

He had carved them into the walls with his nails, into the keyboard, into his own skin.

Copied from the photographs of old tattoos he would shuffle in his hands.

In the glow of the filthy screen, it was hard to tell where his wasted body ended and the work began.

But there was paper falling from the printer, completely clear, except for a list of names, dates and times.

I knew the first name well, Karin Müller.

She was a known thief and speculant at the Lokale Handels Organizazion, and she was already due arrest the next day at the date on the list.

I attended the arrest, but it was not an arrest.

There had been an accident.

Von Müller had been killed by Fleischwolf.

Her arm was caught in the mechanism and she was somehow pulled in.

The second name was an old study mate from the Horschule.

I had not spoken to Matthias since graduating, but I knew where he was working.

I found him just as he placed the electric cable into his mouth.

I read his watching notes before I called the FORPO.

It seemed he had been following special orders from a supervisor who had never existed.

Every name I investigated from that list was the same, broken and strange.

It was not what we asked for, but Schweitzer had made something wonderful and terrible.

I did not understand it.

But I knew we needed it.

I informed my supervisors and then returned to him, ready to take his work from him and hand him over.

But when I stepped inside, I found he was already gone.

He had left and taken the computer, the program, the data, everything, except his filts, his carvings, and a small envelope.

This envelope.

I have not opened it.

I already know what is inside.

A name, a date, and a time.

My time.

Every day I hold this letter.

and dare not open it because what if that date is today and that time is now?

I cannot know, but I cannot not know.

All these years, and I cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot breathe without thinking of him and this letter.

I do not know if it was meant as a gift or as torture.

Perhaps both.

All I do know is that, however much he wanted me,

he loved the program.

And that's everything.

You never saw him again.

No, never.

I do not know how he left the country, but if he had not,

I would have found him.

And this place where you locked him in, where he finished the programme, what was the address?

Alright, fine.

We're done.

You can go.

Finish Diesel um slag Eufnenwode.

She left her envelope.

Do not worry.

I shall return it to her later.

Thank you.

Do you have any sugar?

No.

I like your house.

It's very.

It's not what I expected.

What exactly were you expecting?

I don't know.

Something less.

Hmm.

nice.

I see.

Gwen, when I agreed to speak with you, I was under the impression that you needed to discuss something more substantial than my personal living arrangements.

If that is not the case, then.

No.

I mean, yes, I do.

I.

was just making small talk.

Well, don't.

You're not very good at it.

Oh, and you're just so.

I am glad you're doing well.

Are you?

Yes.

Look, I know we had our.

differences,

but I am genuinely glad you're okay.

Because you need something from me.

No.

Well, sort of.

But also because, well, you left so suddenly and there was no record of you anywhere.

Something I had orchestrated at considerable effort and no small expense.

I was starting to worry that you had been.

disappeared.

I see.

Surely the minister could have disabused you of that particular notion easily enough himself.

Oh.

Well, we don't.

we haven't really been in contact since um

i'm sure he's very pleased with that outcome

well then as you can see i am perfectly content in my obscurity and would prefer to stay that way so what is it that you need that is so urgent that it justifies invading my home like this i'm sorry if i overstepped What do you want, Gwen?

I don't know what to do.

Nobody does.

We just turn up, sort cases, and then horrible things happen.

There's no onboarding, no documentation, and it's not like the minister has any idea what actually goes on at the OIAR.

And before you jump in with, I told you so, I'm still not convinced you know any more than the rest of us.

Then why come here for answers you don't trust?

Because

for all our differences, I know that neither of us can stand to see a job done badly.

So, if anyone knows, it's you.

I don't know why I even bothered.

Dread is organized into four key elements: death, pain, helplessness, and wrongness.

It is essential that these four elements remain balanced.

That is the purpose of the OIAR.

Okay.

Too little of any one of them, and we need to generate more.

Too much of any of them, and we need to increase the others to compensate.

The FR3-D1 system monitors these levels and anticipates what interventions are required in order to maintain balance.

Failure to maintain balance will lead to horrible things happening, which I am guessing is what has brought you to me.

But wait, that would mean

that would mean the system can only trend upwards, generate more dread over time.

Hmm.

Correct.

So, why not reduce them?

Or just get rid of them entirely?

Because it can't be done.

At least not to my knowledge, and there's no one else to ask.

I believe the response team used to try, but in my experience, utilizing appropriately sympathetic externals has proved the most reliable solution.

That doesn't sound.

good.

Perhaps not, but it is the job.

Says who?

I don't know.

Perhaps nobody.

I never controlled the OIAR, Gwen.

I just worked there long enough to understand what the system needs.

The only thing I have ever known with any certainty is that when the levels are unbalanced, terrible things happen.

Leave it unbalanced long enough, and the things you're worried about will become exponentially worse.

I can only hope you've come seeking help before anyone is too badly hurt.

Ah,

that's a shame.

I please don't give me details.

I'd rather not know.

So, what's the Protocol?

Is that just the official name for keeping things balanced?

Now, where did you hear that, I wonder?

In a sense, the Protocol is the last resort for keeping all this secret.

What's wrong with transparency?

I wouldn't try it.

Even if people believed you, which they wouldn't, it would make it impossible to properly operate.

Too many motives, too many variables, too many people looking to take advantage.

So if it looks like someone or something is going to sink the whole ship, you enact the protocol.

Which is?

Isolate, gather, control, excise, and subvert.

Can I please just get one straight answer?

Quarantine the problem, collect the information, extract whatever's useful, burn the rest, blame someone else.

Right.

Just do whatever it takes to keep things balanced.

If you can manage that, when the rest will take care of itself.

Even if people die.

That's the job.

Thank you, Lena.

If there's anything I can do to repay you, like giving me my job back.

Oh.

That was a joke.

You can keep it.

Oh.

Huh.

There is one thing, though.

Oh.

Leave me alone, Gwen.

Forget I ever existed.

Not many of us get out unscathed.

I'd like to stay that way.

I'll

see what I can do.

See you later, Lena.

No, you won't.

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by RustyQuill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 international license.

The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J.

Newell and directed by Alexander J.

Newell.

This episode was written by Alexander J.

Newell and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims.

With vocal edits by Lo Rianne Davis, soundscaping by Tessa Vroome, and mastering by Catherine Rinella with music by Sam Jones.

It featured Billy Hindle as Alice Dyer, Anuja Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lorianne Davis as Celia Ripley, and Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelly.

The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner with executive producers Alexander J.

Newell, Danny McDonough, Lynn C.

and Samantha F.

G.

Hamilton, and associate producers Jordan L.

Hawke, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius DeRaven and Megan Nice.

To subscribe, view associated materials or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com.

Rate and review us online, tweet us at the RustyQuill, visit us on Facebook or email us at mail at rustyquill.com.

Thanks for listening.

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Expect perfumes like You're in a Cult, Call Your Dad, or Vodka and Swearing, the ever-popular Chloroform, or Papa's Waffles.

Sucrebae do a range of exciting and unique fragrances you won't find anywhere else.

They broadly fit into the following five categories: classic scents that pass the test of time, goth scents, for those who like it dark and mysterious, witchy scents that are mysterious and potion-y, nerdy scents, for all the self-professed nerds out there, and femme scents, the classically floral and sweet scents, but we recommend them for anyone of any gender.

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