About The Scarlett Kite
Hi! I'm Scarlett Kiteway, I'm 20 years old, a journalism student in Perplex City and this is my blog all about the excitement over the search for the Cube. I'll be keeping track of what the media over there is saying about it, and maybe a little bit about my life as well!
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Friday, October 20, 2006
Lockdown
Category: me, 02:28 PMI'm writing this from Violet's apartment on Moebius. I've been staying here the past few days. Well, since we got back from Viendenbourg really. I haven't even been out of the apartment today - I've just been sitting in the window seat, monitoring the chat and news channels on my key, browsing some favourite Earth sites and knowing I won't be able to get at them much longer. Vi said Kurt had sent her a quick mail with a warning about the lockdown beginning at 5.30pm today. I think I may never want to leave the apartment again.
I had a conversation with my father yesterday. He's been trying to get through since Monday but I haven't been answering. I can't really remember a lot of the things he said. He was angry, and he was trying to hide it but he couldn't. I remember he said: "Why, Scarlett? Why couldn't you talk to me?" And I didn't have an answer - at least not one that made any sense. And I remember he said: "I want you to come home." And I started crying, and Violet took the key away from me and shouted at him for a while about lying and deceiving, and how he owes us an apology. I've been doing that a lot lately. Crying.
I miss my dad, the dad I used to know, or thought I knew. And I miss the world how it was, when I thought he could solve it all for me. And I don't know what to do or what to say about any of this so I just say: I'm sorry. I don't know how much of this is my fault, but for the things that are, I'm sorry.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Chrysalis
Category: me, 04:17 PMHave you ever had the feeling of having outgrown yourself? Or where you suddenly take a turn around a corner and come face to face with the person you were a year or two ago and realise, properly realise that you're just not them anymore? And you think - when did this happen? I seem to have been looking the other way and pretending to be that person I used to be when all this time, I've been... changing.
So, I was wondering what to write here, about all of this, and feeling confused and sad, and staring at my blog I noticed this, which I wrote not so very long ago:
"I'm not just, like, majoring in journalism, I really love it! I know some people think it's a bit hokey, but I really believe that journalists can make a difference. My friend Iona Rodie who writes for the Sentinel has changed City Council policy on the environment with her writing. One day I'm going to do the same."
I remember what I thought when I wrote that. I still believe it. Journalism is something that can change the world, can make a difference, can right wrongs and expose lies. But every gain is a loss, you know? I remember writing that about Iona's environmental stories, and feeling so excited and happy that she'd stopped some corporate dumping of waste in a protected habitat. And now I can't stop thinking about what happened in that corporation. Did someone lose their job? Were they thrown out of their house? Did their partner leave them? What happens then?
Violet isn't sure about what we've done. Her instinct was to keep everything secret, to investigate more, maybe to find a way to use the information to our advantage. But she agreed it was my call. Because of Lancewood. Because of Major Maine. And because I still believe that revealing the truth can change the world, I've made my decision and you'll hear about it soon. I don't know what's going to happen now. I don't think it'll be good. But everything's different already - there is no good decision anymore. The world has changed while we were looking the other way.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Decisions
Category: me, 11:52 AMWe've all read over those documents that Kurt got off the Viendenbourg network. Thank you for deciphering them for us, but now that you have, I really wish you hadn't.
"Subject reports extreme pain, disorientation."
"Subject lost."
"Subject severely injured. Expired at 18:15."
Something awful is happening at Viendenbourg, that much is clear, and... my father is directly responsible. This is the same man who tucked the blankets up to my chin at bedtime and taught me how to catch fireflies, you know? And I've known for ages now that my father was somehow involved in all of this, from the last time I went into Viendenbourg, but I'd hoped there was some sort of innocent explanation. I think now it's too late for that.
And, try as I might I can't get away from the fact that if my father authorised the experiments on Major Maine, it was he who made me... Well. He might as well have had his hand on the gun with me.
So now we're all huddled together in our tent. It's pouring rain outside, which isn't helping moods, and we're trying to decide who to tell, what to tell. We have to tell someone, we're agreed on that, but there's no way of knowing who to trust. I said on Hobbs Island, maybe the safest thing is to tell everyone. But I don't know what will happen if we do. I don't know what will happen to my dad.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Scrambled
Category: me, 06:01 PMI guess Violet told you all about our adventures at the Viendenbourg Heritage Centre. It's weird. The compound is still the same, the low-slung grey building is still there but now there's this tourist attraction for, apparently, the general public. It's very odd - obviously it hasn't been there long but really it still had that wet-paint smell to it. It looks so new I practically expected to find bits of it still wrapped in plastic. We feel kind of idiotic not having thought to check up on our key networks about what might have been going on here, but what were we supposed to do? The last time I was here it was a top-secret military facility, who would have thought it'd turn into a theme park?!
Anyway, Violet and I came up with a plan of attack with Kurt. That part of the tour, right at the end, when the children connect their keys to the Viendenbourg network - we decided to hook up at that point. Kurt didn't think he'd be able to find a way in through military security in the few minutes we'd have (and he was right - apparently just looking at the gateway practically made his eyes bleed) but he devised a little plan to retrieve some less-guarded files, the dumped corrupt files stored in temporary files on the system.
Which we now have. Most of it is garbage, just strings of meaningless characters, but Kurt said he thought this part looked significant. He thinks there are several files all mangled together and we hoped, well, we thought, that you might be able to help us untangle them? Kurt gave me the original file and the same one in hex too.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
A year on
Category: me, 05:12 PMIt's been a year, almost to the day, since I first came to Viendenbourg. Then, I was with my boyfriend and my friends and a strange man called Allain who knew more about the place than he ought to have done. But I didn't know how important that was yet. A year ago I was camping in these woods with my friends and we built the campfire high and told ghost stories and took pictures of each other posing in front of the splinterwood trees and the towering crowns of purple hawksblossom. A year ago I hadn't even put anyone I loved in danger, let alone, well. Let alone killed someone.
I haven't said any of this to Violet. I know she's noticed that I've been quiet. I haven't wanted to say much about anything much since Lancewood and I guess she knows why. But coming here, coming back here and remembering everything that happened last time I was here... if I were to tell her to go back she wouldn't listen, and if I were to explain to her what I'm thinking she couldn't help. But the hawksblossom's blooming again and I'm a little sad, and a little frightened.
We brought the car this time - can't bring it through the woods of course but we've taken it as far as we can and have set up camp in the forest. Kurt took us shopping for a whole new camouflaged tent, with smart-skin which blends into the surroundings. We're taking precautions. He's also rigged up the same bafflers Allain and I had last time, this time super-streamlined, extra-safe, highly-monitorable. Violet says she doesn't know when he gets time to sleep for doing all of this. I think maybe he didn't sleep at all this weekend, just got by on a bunch of Ceretin but I don't know if she knows that either.
I had a conversation with Kurt on Saturday night. Vi and I were at his apartment. She was asleep on the couch and Kurt had his soldering gun out, creating some kit for us.
He carried on working as we talked, in that careful meticulous way he does.
"So that was quite bad, what happened at Lancewood."
I nodded slowly.
I said: "It's difficult to talk about."
Kurt fiddled with a few more connections and pulled out a thin-beamed laser to fix a lattice-work of tiny wires in place.
"Yup," he said. "It's, um, it doesn't get much easier."
I nodded again.
"A bit easier," he said, still looking at his work, "these things are, you know. It's better if you can work out how to talk about them."
"Do you?"
"I've talked to Vi a bit about it. Sometimes. Look, um,"
"Yes?"
He frowned at his circuit board, retrieved a tool that looked like a tiny button-hook and used it to twist two minute screws in place.
"If you ever want to talk. About Lancewood, you know, and I guess. You can talk to me."
I don't know if Kurt's going to be the person I'll want to talk to about all of this, but I really appreciated the thought. Vi hasn't really known what to say so she's sort of ignoring the whole I-killed-someone part of our expedition and is concentrating on the we-have-to-get-to-the-bottom-of-it element. Which is fine. It's good to have a project.
So, we're back in the forest. We have our special anti-confusion-field gizmos. And tomorrow we're going back to Viendenbourg to find out what's going on. And in my pocket, I have Major Jake Maine's dogtags. Just to remind me why we're doing this.