written by Daniel Manning
[[SFX: tape recorder starts]]
CALLER 1: Can you give me a name at the very least. Or how the patient got this bad so fast.
ANTHONY PARTRIDGE (AP): No, I can’t tell you who. Or why.
C1: But the timeframe for the degradation, that’s got to be exaggerated–
AP: Best estimates suggest the majority of the damage happened over about 10-14 months… I know.
C1: You’re yanking my chain. Did Simmons put you up to this?
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
￼SALLY GRISSOM (SG): Diary of Sally Grissom, August 18th, 1946. You know I gotta say, I think living in Point-of-Exile has really been good for my long-term mental health. I’m not surrounded by military police, I can walk more than a mile without hitting empty desert, and I can have a hobby that isn’t immediately snatched up by the War Department. In the last couple months I’ve sort of become Point-of-Exile’s resident tinker. Fixing appliances, that sort of thing. News of my “Answertron” spread quickly— nothing stays quiet for long in a small town like this. I started getting calls from people I don’t even know just so they could hear it. A lot of them were disappointed when I actually picked up, and at least one didn’t even believe I was really on the other end of the line.
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
SALLY’S CALLER: Oooh, so how is this supposed to work?
SG: Err... like a phone call? You talk to me, and then I respond? We, uh... converse?
SALLY’S CALLER: Woooow. This is amazing! Absolutely amazing. You must have a lot of responses, right?
SG: Responses to what? Oh no, no you’re talking to me. To a person.
SALLY’S CALLER: Yeah, right. See this all sounds good, real convincing. But I can tell. It’s your voice, it’s all high-pitched. You sound like a Victrola.
SG: Oh, wow. Whoops, you got me. Yup, I’m just a recording.
SALLY’S CALLER: Heh, I knew it. What a two-bit con.
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
SG: I don’t know what she expected, that I was some kind of perfect telephone robot ghost in the machine? I would need like to like, what, solve voice synthesis, speech recognition, natural language processing and just have a few dozen teraflops lying around? Come on. I might be genius from the future, but I’m not magic. That said, I’ve realized that the calculations required by the Timepiece are definitely going to need a computer. Well, maybe not the full von Neumann compatibility, but it’s going to need an internal logic unit of some kind, and ￼it can’t be the size of a pickup truck, so I’ve been tooling around with... “pre-inventing” the transistor. I requisitioned some germanium and some gold, but this stuff is a lot harder to find when you don’t have the full power of Bell Labs behind you. Half the labor is in getting materials pure enough to work with. It’s not like there’s a rare metals refinery in town. I mean, I do have a small forge, but it’s not like I could just take... Hmm. I’ve got an idea. I’m going to have to come back to this.
Anyway, so I’ve been trying to keep stuff like this outside Wyatt and Roberts' work, because I believe there’s still room for surprises in the world, but I think I might talk to Partridge about it. His background will help with the logic gates, and he’s been a pretty good sounding board, if nothing else. When I’ve got transistors down, I might try my hand at building a portable radio, though that could be getting a little ahead of the 20th century, so I won’t push my luck.
After we disproved Roberts’ theory of positive-time motion a few months ago, I’ve had the team working on something different: using Timepiece tech to generate a region of null-time motion. Basically, we crank up the emitters until the gluon wall just barely begins to condense, then pull back on the ... it’s just a–it’s a time bubble. Time passes in the bubble, time stays still outside the bubble... Time bubble. I don’t need to use impressive jargon all the time. What is this, my graduate thesis? So, [begins to accelerate] we’re essentially trying to oscillate the time direction of a spatial volume in an anchor field at a frequency that neutralizes the negative-time acceleration to achieve a Minkowski inner product with a null signature— I’m doing it again. Basically [defeated, robbed of her technobabble crescendo] you use the Timepiece to move backwards for, say, one second, and then let one second of real time elapse, then move one second backwards, then one forward second. Et cetera. Outside time stays frozen in that second. Time bubble. Of course, cycling once per second is far too slow and unwieldy to be practical, so you need to increase the frequency of those micro- jumps a whole lot, and that is a dangerous prospect with the Timepiece. Anyway, that’s why I need better computing: to stop physics from ripping itself a new asshole. Again.
And while Roberts and Wyatt work on that—well... white Roberts works on that, Partridge is going into a deep dive figure out how to utilize the tachyonic burst created by Timepiece jumps. Photons moving faster than light are released at the position of ￼the event, and travel backwards accordingly. Years ago in Polvo when I first met Partridge we had an issue with a similar emission knocking out power in the town because of a test in our relative future. But since then we’ve figured out how to stop it from causing electrical interference. I remember realizing that in the hours leading up to the revision of that Timepiece spec that since we didn’t measure any interference, our hypothesis would be correct. Getting the results before you’ve started--oh, if all my work could have gone that smoothly.
I think about the Sally Grissom I was three years ago. Like, if she were confronted with a paradox like this. She’d shy away from it, or stick her fingers in her ears and tune it out, or maybe just run away screaming in terror. But... will grow since then. Have grown since then? Now, I only mostly want to have run away... I mean, I just only mostly want to run away.
[[SFX: static distortion]]
SG: ...Jeez, word salad, am I right? Ugh. You're never going to respond, are you. I guess even I wish my recordings could talk back.
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
CALLER 2: I am at my home, Anthony. I’m fresh off an eighteen hour shift and I don’t have time for your fantasy patient games.
AP: I understand you’ve just gotten home, Gordon. If you could just tell me... Gor— [hangs up]
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
ESTHER ROBERTS (ER): Alright, I’m heading out. You two have got it from here?
AP: Yep, I just need to finish up some paperwork.
SG: Huh. Roberts, I think this is the first time in a month you’re out of here before we are.
ER: I wanted to actually make myself look nice for once before the show. I'm excited, aren't you?
SG: Can’t wait.
ER: See you in a few hours.
￼[[SFX: Esther leaves]]
AP: She’s gone. So what did you want to show me?
SG: OK, Take a look at these blueprints.
AP: Sure, let me see…
SG: I've been working on a new circuit design. Should decrease the load on the navigation layer.
AP: What is this supposed to be? I mean, it looks like a... no, that can't... but...you must be joking. This is a joke, right?
SG: Nope, all real. Theoretically validated. I guess, if you believe the ontological validity of a theory of electricity that only exists in my mind–
AP: Is this your own development, or is this a cheat? You know what, I'm not sure it matters. Either way, I'm impressed.
SG: Well, a little bit of it is my own ingenuity so I could actually build it... but yeah, I had help.
AP: Does this do what I think it does?
AP: You’ve cracked semi-conduction. This doesn't have the reliability issues of cat's whiskers?
SG: Just you wait. In my day there'll be billions of these on a board the size of a quarter. They’ll toss these into Hallmark cards. And then you’ll throw them out because they are at best trivial and at worst actively irritating.
AP: You're dangling a beautiful future in front of my face that I'll never get to see.
SG: Who's to say you won't see it?
AP: I've done the math, Sally. I'll be nearly a hundred by the time your present comes.
SG: You won't have to wait that long. You’ll definitely see at least the greeting cards. Well, you'll probably have to wait a few decades before the really cool computer returns start coming in, but–
AP: What are you going to do with this?
￼SG: Well, I've just got some blueprints and a marginal confidence that it’ll probably work. But in the future, I want to use a version of this to start building discrete logic gates.
AP: For the Timepiece?
SG: That's the idea, yeah. If we can offload some of the calculations from the mechanical switches, we could cut down on the size and get a navigation vector that much faster.
AP: Off the top of my head, we could slim down to just the first three bays, and then take the... [sigh] Why did you have to show me this?
SG: What do you mean?
AP: I’ve got a one-track mind with this kind of stuff. I’m a greyhound. Dangle something shiny and new in front of my face, and nothing in the world will stop me from daydreaming about the possibilities here with your... what are you calling it?
SG: It’s a transconductive circuit.
AP: And what is it called in your day?
SG: ...It’s called a transistor.
AP: And I was going to tell you to stop going forward with your telephone experiments...
SG: You, uh... you know about that?
AP: Of course I do. I was at Lou’s Diner, and I heard someone talking about some woman with a weird gadget on her telephone. Weird gadgets lead right to your door.
SG: I was just tinkering around with some stuff...
AP: Were you tinkering around, or were you testing the waters of how much 20█ you could bring to town?
SG: You were the one who told me that it didn’t matter if I altered the past–
AP: Sure, but that was before all this Timepiece drama… before we lost Quentin.
SG: That... wasn’t my fault.
￼AP: I know it wasn’t, there was an angry widow and some sort of self-fulfilling paradox logic, I get it. But you have to admit that you--that all of us are toying with forces outside of our control.
SG: Now you’re the one giving lectures about where man was not meant to tread.
AP: I’m not just talking about the science… You might be wise to keep a low profile. Do you remember, back in Polvo, the G-man who told us we were fired?
SG: Sort of. Collins? Cornwall?
AP: Cornish. Hank Cornish.
SG: What about him?
AP: I saw him the other day.
SG: You saw him?
AP: Down at the five-and-dime. He was just walking through the aisles.
SG: Wha–here? Like, Point-of-Exile here? And it was him, the same guy?
AP: I’m sure it’s Cornish. He even said he was working with the Central Intelligence Group when he showed up in December...
SG: Which means he could just be part of the upcoming CI move-in over the next couple months–or he’s just here on a holiday or...
SG: ...There’s something weird going on.
AP: That’s got to be quite the coincidence, Sally. The guy who hands out our discharge papers suddenly shows up right in our backyard?
SG: The backyard that Donovan says is so remote we may well be ghosts?
AP: Something’s up, I know it.
￼SG: I’d say you were being paranoid if I didn’t already know that we have good reason to be paranoid.
AP: What I’m trying to say, Sally, is be careful. There are monsters under the bed, whether you can see them or not.
SG: I’ll sleep with one eye open.
AP: Good move.
[[SFX: radio tuning; TAP cart rolling]]
SG: (out of breath) Grissom diary. About quarter before eight, August 18th. We’re investigating some of Partridge’s claims about the appearance of one Agent Hank Cornish, so I’ve snuck the TAP out after hours. To be fair, we don’t exactly have the best security at the research site.
AP: Or any security at all, really.
SG: Well, we have Whickman.
AP: Is he really security? I thought he was just Bill’s majordomo.
SG: According to him, he’s bounced all over the place. It’s not like we have ranks anymore. I thought you didn’t want your voice recorded, for culpability’s sake.
AP: Ah hell, I’m sure they have enough to hang me for treason somewhere. How did you even convince me to come out here in the first place?
[[SFX: radio tuning]]
SG: I’ll sleep with one eye open.
AP: Good move.
[[SFX: Anthony returns to work]]
SG: Do you want to borrow the TAP and investigate what you saw–
￼[[SFX: radio tuning]]
SG: As I recall, it wasn't difficult.
AP: What about you?
SG: Well, my audio diaries probably paint a pretty damning case against me.
AP: Did I ever tell you my theory about Polvo?
SG: Which one?
AP: Microphones in the walls.
AP: Occasionally, when I was working, or eating dinner, I’d hear a little whirr. Helen insisted I see a doctor, get my ears checked, but they never found anything. I used to joke to myself that Bill had put microphones in the walls and recorded everything we said.
SG: Funny joke.
AP: He loved the damn things, too. Once said something about radio being the future of espionage.
SG: You’re saying everything we ever said in New Mexico was bugged?
AP: Probably not. It’s more likely paranoia manufactured by my overtired mind. I mean, there was probably a recorder in his office, which makes sense, but everywhere? I mean, come on, that’d be overkill.
[[SFX: signal corruption]]
AP: Of course, your gadgets are the future of espionage now. No pun intended.
SG: Yes, there was.
AP: Yes, there was. So are we going to do this? I feel weird standing alone in this parking lot.
SG: I’m booting it up.
￼[[SFX: TAP booting up]]
AP: I gotta say, we do have some really neat toys. It’s smaller than the last time I saw it.
SG: I made a few modifications to the TAP right before Polvo fell apart. Inside here, there’s a heavily-modified miniature version of the Timepiece. We don’t have to keep it plugged in. Also, it’s inert now.
AP: I’m so glad I won’t have to worry about June Barlowe murdering me.
SG: Well, not through cross-time shenanigans, at least. Do we... What ever happened to her?
AP: Chet, uh... hmm. You know, I'm not rightly sure. She fired a gun on an employee at a military base... I assume she must have been court-martialed, or something.
SG: Huh. Grim. So when did you see Cornish?
AP: It was after work on... Wednesday.
SG: Let me see...
[[SFX: the TAP rapidly clicks backwards]]
SG: Wednesday evening, you said? A more accurate timeframe would help.
AP: Try between six-thirty and seven.
[[SFX: the TAP switches to hourly resolution, then minute resolution]]
SG: Well there’s you. Did he have anything distinguishing on? A hat, or something?
AP: Look at this scene, Sally. Do you see anyone not wearing a hat? Hell, I’m wearing a hat right there.
SG: I’m sorry I asked.
[[SFX: tuning the TAP]]
AP: Ooh, wait, stop! That’s him, that’s him right there.
SG: That guy? Let’s get a closer look.
￼[[SFX: SG begins rolling the TAP closer, not noticing a PEDESTRIAN.]]
PEDESTRIAN: Oh, excuse me!
SG: Oh, sorry!
AP: Sorry, excuse us, Department of the Interior.
SG: No, come on, that can’t be right.
AP: We’ve got to follow him.
AP: We have to follow him! Find out where he goes, what he’s doing.
SG: Partridge, it’s getting pretty late. The show is starting soon.
AP: I know, I know. Just humor me. We follow where he’s going, see if it’s anything interesting, then I’ll drive over there. You won’t miss it.
SG: I thought you would be the one who was concerned about missing it.
AP: ...This was your idea. Are you going to help me or not?
[[SFX: radio tuning; TAP in a moving car]]
SG: This is the slowest speed car chase I’ve ever heard of.
AP: Well, if you paid better attention to the car we’re tailing, I wouldn’t keep missing turns.
SG: I’m looking through a seventy-five pound time traveling camera. It’s not exactly designed for mobile use.
AP: All of these houses look the same at night.
SG: Hey, he’s slowing down! He’s pulling into that house over there! Remember the address: 175 ￼███ Ave.
AP: Is he doing anything else?
SG: I don’t know, probably putting away his... someone else is pulling into the driveway.
￼AP: Oh good, more spooks.
SG: Drive. Now.
AP: What is it?
SG: Just drive!
[[SFX: the car speeds away; the TAP powers down]]
SG: Whickman was there. Showed up at Cornish’s safe house like he was expected, like he was coming around for Sunday brunch. They must be working together.
AP: That’s inferring a lot of intent from what you saw.
SG: I know what I saw, okay? You were right. There’s more than meets the eye. Are you happy?
AP: Why the hell would I be happy about this?
SG: Let’s just go to the thing, okay? I don’t want to think about this until tomorrow.
AP: I’m... I can’t go.
SG: Why not?
AP: I can’t.
SG: You’re not going to show up for your own wife?
AP: It’s not that!
SG: It’s actually exactly that. Few statements are as definitive as “I can’t go” because you aren’t going to a thing.
AP: Look, I’ll drive you over there. But don’t tell Helen I did. Don’t tell the rest of them I was here either. I’ll bring the TAP back to the lab, and no one will know it was moved.
SG: Jesus, what’s wrong with you? I’m not gonna lie to your wife for you—
AP: So you’re just going to go in there and tell her “Oh, your husband and I stole some equipment from work so we could spy on some spies?”
￼AP: Good. Thank you.
SG: What am I going to say when she asks?
AP: Tell her... I don’t know. Tell her whatever feels right.
SG: Except the truth.
AP: I know I’m asking a lot of you. But thank you
SG: You better not be seeing someone on the side.
AP: I promise you, I’m not.
SG: I believe you. But I’m not sure that makes it better.
[[SFX: Anthony pulls up; Sally gets out; radio tuning]]
CALLER 3: I don’t believe that there’s no way this isn’t radiation poisoning. If I could just take a look at the patient...
AP: It’s NOT radiation. I’m telling you, it’s not... actually. What would you think if there was radiation?
[[SFX: radio tuning; inside the jazz club]]
SG: Hey there Officer Whickman!
CHET WHICKMAN (CW): Doc! You came to see her perform?
SG: Yeah! Wanted to come out and show my support.
CW: You seen Dr. Partridge around anywhere?
SG: Can’t make it. He was mumbling something about leaky capacitors when I left. Sends his regards to the woman of honor, obviously. Roberts, Wyatt, and his girl are over at a table over there, you want to join us?
CW: Yeah, I’ll stop by, sure.
[[SFX: tape fast-forward]]
ER/JACK WYATT (JW): [greeting Chet]
PENNY WISE (PW): And who might this be?
￼SG: Penny Wise, this is Officer of the Very First Class, Chet Whickman. Whickman, Wise.
CW: Pleasure to meet you.
PW: I’m sure.
JW: Chet’s the man who keeps us safe while we’re on campus.
PW: What’s the threat to a weather research station? Jackrabbits? Radio men, raiding for forecasts? Rowdy clouds?
CW: [laughs] There’s always something going on. You should be grateful that my job is mostly quiet.
ER: Guys, shh, she’s on.
HELEN PARTRIDGE: (on stage) I hope you folks didn’t miss me. It’s been a while.
[[SFX: The band strikes up, and Helen sings “A Nightingale Sang in Barkley Square”]]
That certain night, the night we met
There was magic abroad in the air
There were angels dining at the Ritz
And a nightingale sang in Barkley Square...
ER: She’s fantastic!
PW: Does your friend do this often?
JW: It’s the first time in a long time, I think. Do you know how long it’s been, Dr. Grissom?
SG: I, uh... err... eye-uhh-no?
CW: I don’t think Helen has sung in public since the Partridges flew to New Mexico. It’s a shame. Don’t hide your gifts–you know, like the Parable of the Talents?
PW: I thought that was a story warning against burying money in the ground.
￼JW: I thought it was supposed to be Christ’s endorsement of investment capitalism.
CW: What I’m saying, is she should keep it up. I think there’s a future in that for her.
JW: Yeah, if only Dr. Partridge had been here to see it.
ER: Where is he, anyway?
SG: Still at work. He didn’t want to miss it. You know how busy we’ve been.
JW: Blame me for it.
ER: We usually do, Jack.
SG: At least we got out.
JW: Why don’t we do this more often, anyway? I feel like I never see you all anymore.
ER: Yeah, Jack, why do I never see you any more?
JW: Ever since I got one round ahead of you in our Dilemma series, you’ve been dodging me at lunch.
SG: Esther’s mom invented this card game. Jack’s the only one of us who can play it.
CW: She tried to teach me once and I got a nosebleed.
SG: I’m never sure what’s happening, but I’m pretty sure they’re both crazy good.
ER: Yeah, you are the one dodging our game. What’s with you, Jack? Do I have to find another opponent who won’t resign the second there’s a stage 51 on the table?
JW: Oh, so since you miss winning I’ve gotta put my suit flop on the line so you can try to build another slow run?
￼ER: I wouldn’t need a new opponent if a worthy one would just step up. I’m right here, like I’ve always been.
JW: The stakes as high as they are, it might be prudent to play something else.
ER: I don’t know why I’m even fighting for this. You can barely hold a River Set together. It’s like watching a toddler doing her taxes.
JW: I’d thought you’d want an easy fight. That way you can put your name all over the leaderboard and you don’t have to share it with anyone.
ER: Leaderboard? What leaderboard? Nobody else plays. There’s a big empty space right where your name is, and you’re the one who gave it up. You. Jack Wyatt, Friend to the Common Man and Deserter of Games!
JW: I gave it up as much as you gave up your pair of fives during the Black Friday Bout. I know you were cheating.
PW: They’re not arguing about cards, are they?
ER: That’s preposterous and you know it./ Come on, lay all the blame on me. I know you want to. Because you’re too scared to admit you lost.
JW: /You know what you did. A guilty conscience needs no accuser.
ER: And yet, you accuse! I had both of those fives fair and square. I shouldn’t put up with this weak tea when I could get four times the competition from Dr. Grissom.
SG: Don’t bring me into this.
ER: Oh, well excuse me for wanting to explore a deep and engaging ruleset with a friend.
￼JW: You should try playing against yourself, you know? It’s exhausting. “Quiver this” and “divide the flop” that. It’s not Solitaire, Esther.
ER: Why play when your opponent is a goldfish on the floor?
JW: You know, you are such a—
[[SFX: Penny stands from the table]]
PW: Jack, I think it’s time to go.
JW: Yeah, I... I think that would be a good idea.
PW: I’m really sorry. Jack’s really sorry, too.
[[SFX: they leave]]
ER: He better be, or—
SG: Esther, not the time.
[[SFX: the song ends; applause; radio tuning; outside da club]]
JW: It’s, well, I’m feeling... I don’t know how to put it. Is there some Greco-Roman-sounding word that means a mix of fear, malaise, and anger?
JW: ...I shoulda known that one.
PW: You said it, not me... What’s wrong?
JW: I almost died in the service of not ruining a Christmas party. That’s not a healthy work environment.
PW: That’s one way to put it.
JW: And the project? I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore! The end goal is... I’m not sure I ever knew what it was.
￼PW: It isn’t right. He doesn’t get to treat you like yesterday’s news and still work you like a dog!
PW: Jack, look around you. The war’s over, it’s time to stop fighting.
JW: But I don’t want to leave! Sally might act like a moon person, but she’s saved my bacon more times than I can count. And I’ve worked with Esther since my graduate days. [sigh] She was right that I’ve been letting her down. It’s not fair to her. Or the rest of them.
PW: I know you care about your friends, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you. And I don’t think that it’s going to be slaving away on secret science whatever-the-hell-it-is until there’s nothing left of you. You had too much to drink tonight and got a little heated. Nothing wrong with that.
JW: Yeah, but how many nights am I gonna have just a little too much, and then, and then things get heated… I feel like I’m out of control. Ever since the morphine they gave me ran out, I’ve had this pain in my head. Where I was hit.
PW: I’m so sorry.
JW: Nothing makes it go away... nothing except the drink.
PW: Oh, Jack, I had no idea–
JW: Sometimes I can’t get out of bed without any. One time, I even calculated how long it’d be until I was sober and could go to work. I didn’t want to say anything, because things have been going so well and... I’m just afraid. It hurts so much to think with the pain. And what good am I if I can’t think?
PW: You’re good to me. You’re better than you think. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.
￼JW: I don’t know if I can choose between pain on one side and poison on the other.
PW: Those can’t be your only choices. We’ll find another way.
JW: We? I figured if I told you, you’d be gone faster than a—
PW: I’m not going anywhere. I’m so glad you told me. Now I can help too.
JW: Penny, I... Thank you.
[[SFX: radio tuning; different phone calls]]
AP: The patient’s symptoms include nosebleeds, lesioning, risk of hemhorrage, aneurysms, inflamed hypothalamus, aphasia–
AP: He’s got frequent nosebleeds–
AP: –hypothalamus is inflamed–
AP: There is a massive–
AP: Extensive… lesioning–
AP: –risk of hemorrhage–
AP: –of the brain—
[[SFX: switch; in office, Anthony on phone; Chet enters]]
AP: If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never heard about “tense-specific aphasia” either. Yes, I know you’re the doctor, I didn’t mean— Okay, well thanks anyway. Thank you. Yeah. Goodbye. [[SFX: Anthony hangs up]]
CW: I take it there’s been no luck.
AP: I called everybody I knew. A few people I don’t. You won’t be happy with the results. You said you were working on something?
CW: They’ve been testing an experimental therapy on rats. Results were... inconclusive.
AP: How inconclusive?
CW: It might help him, but it might not. No matter what, you really don’t want to be one of those rats.
AP: It doesn’t sound like our most solid plan ever...
CW: Whatever we do, it would be cutting it close if we started on it yesterday.
AP: We’re out of options... Dammit.
[[SFX: tape recorder stops]]
ars PARADOXICA is created by Daniel Manning and Mischa Stanton.
Episode 07: Distraction features –
Kristen DiMercurio (Sally Grissom)
Reyn Beeler (Chet Whickman)
Robin Gabrielli (Anthony Partridge)
Susanna Kavee (Helen Partrige)
Katie Speed (Esther Roberts)
Zach Ehrlich (Jack Wyatt)
Charlotte Mary Wen (Penny Wise)
Zak Stevens, Erin Bark (additional voices)
with special thanks to Isabel Atkinson
This episode features the song "A Nightingale Sang in Barkley Square," performed by Susanna Kavee, as well as original music by Mischa Stanton.
ars PARADOXICA is brought to you by The Internet: It's never been easier to call your mom, tell her how you're doing.
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