I heard an strange voice, telling me about emptiness, trying to keep me from going back to the word. I enjoyed the silence, until the only option left was to "Take me there". That went too far, sudently I was scared of death. I didn't want to die, so I demanded do be brought back in the world. The voice warned me that the word was not a place I will enjoy, but I procedded anyway. The other option seemed worse.

Then, I suddently woke up naked and really tired. All my clothes were scattered across the room, a cold breeze was coming from the window, which was smashed by something. I couldn't remember anything, not even how I looked like or where I was. I started exploring the room and picking up my clothes from the ground, my nekctie was hunging from the fan, a music tape was broken. I figured out that I was missing one of my shoes so I probably throw the other one outside the window, breaking it; so I headed outside to get my other shoe.

According to a random blonde girl in her 20' just outside my door, I am a (drunk) policemen, sent to the city to investigate a dead body in the back of the motel. I did not remember anything, the girl claims that I made a lot of noise the night prior. Indded, her desciption matches the conditions of the room: a broken window from a shoe, music tape destroyed, an empty bottle of alcohol and clothes everywhere. According to the girl, I came in the city three days prior, during the night I screamed "I don't want to be this kind of anymal". I still can't remember anything about It.

The current season was winter. We were in the year 51 of "this century", It was monday. I leared a bit about the city and that there has been a failed revolution here. Apparently the economy embraced the free market and and empty life full of dancing… what a real shit.

I didn't want to bother the blonde girl anymore, so I headed downstairs where there were a hall and a bar. The door to the kitchen was reserved to the staff until 13:00, It was 8:45 so I thought I could check this place later. The mess hall was reserved to Union members and It opens at 16:00. There was a sleeping man in the hall, an old lady, a cafeteria manager, one of my collegues and a karaoke place. I had to resist the temptation to sing something in the karaoke, what did I have to sing about anyway?

I met my buddy Kim Kitsuragi from precinct 57. I am from 41, apparently. For some reason I didn't have my badge with me, I needed to report this as soon as possible. Even If I didn't remember anything, I pretended to be a police officer, hoping that memories would come back soon.

I wen to to talk to the cafetteria manager, his name is Garte. He did not call the police, he claimed; It was probably Sylvie, another bartender that works there, he usggested. He have us her number. Garte tells us that people say that it was the Union dockworkers who hand the body in the tree, It was an execution. But who is the murdered person, and why did this group wanted to kill him? Garte talls us that the man was a security guard for the harbour company, a merchenary, and the Union probably wanted to send a message.

Ah shit, I had to pay the damages I did the days prior, and the accomodation, but I really had no money. This was quite a bad situation, I needed to find 120 coins or I would have no other place to rest except the streets. Fuck, I couldn't even remember where I lived, I was thinking hard about it.

I went outside and used Kim's radio to talk to the station and report that I am missing my badge, I also realised I couldn't find my gun anymore. The police station laughed at me and denied me any money, I was really fucked. They called me Dick Mullen but I don't know If that is my real name, maybe I should have asked for money before reporting the missing badge…

I then called Sylvie with the number that Garte gave us. She told us that she did not make the call, and that not many people had phones those days. The Union had a phone and there was one further down the coast. Additionally, she seemed afraid to talk with me, she explained that a few days before I was playing with my gun and making very explicit suicide jokes. I had to move with this case quickly.

There wasn't much of interest in the immediate surroundings of the motel, just a few workers and a kid, so I deaded to the corpse's location. There was some a really inpolite kid talking in third person who thought he was the main protagonist of the world. My morale is really low right now, I don't know why I am here or why am am doing everything that I am doing. Hell, I don't even know anything about myself…

I started getting closer to the dead body and inspecting It's surroundings. I found footprints for eight paires of work boots just under the body. Some of them stood out: some light steps, maybe from a woman or a kid, a sole smoother than the other, maybe a taxi driver or someone working with a pedal, and two heavy footprints, probably two people one on top of the other to carry the body, but why did they need to carry the body? Was It already dead? The footprints appeared to be a week old.

I could not get other useful information, and I didn't have the strength to move the body, do I started exploring the city. I went to a book shop and bought a very cheap tourist map of the city, It is quite old but It does the job. I entered a shop where I sold some cans that I found for some coins.

There is a huge crowd east of the hotel, I went to check on them. Apparently the gates to the factory are blocked by a big racist guy and the workers are asking and protesting to open the door and let them do their work, but he does not move an inch. I knew I could never beat him, so I tried to convince him that we shared the same ideas, hoping that we would treat me in a more friendly way, so we started talking about races. Sadly, we wants me to internalize what we have discussed and come back later. So I wen away internalizing it, with real disconfort. I want to stay away as much as possible from politics, this is a dangerous thing.

I head north to an apartment building and talk with some people over there: a negotiator for the strike who told us more about what was happening, and a potential witness who does not want to talk. We entered and explored It's building but he does not want to open the door. We arrainged to check again the day after at 21:00.

We then go south, and discover some trails of a car running away from the crime scene and making crazy manouvers, this is very suspicious. Everytihng happened whiting the last 72 hour, the car looks like It is either a Coupris 40 or a Linnea G22.

Wednesday 7:15 souther canal.