Under the shadow of the colonnade, the orange-headed girl absentmindedly kicks at the ground, sipping a cold drink.
She watches as a beetle scurries across the courtyard, disappearing into a patch of weeds.
???: What are you doing out here alone?
She dips under the shadow of the colonnade, the sun streaming in behind her.
The orange-headed girl raises her hand to block the glaring sunlight as she tries to make out the woman's face.
Lopera: Mm? Molly!
It's her "sister," Moldir. They grew up together under the watchful eye of their adoptive father.
She tosses her drink aside, her face lighting up like a puppy wagging its tail as she runs toward her sister.
Moldir: Heh, at ease, soldier—You've really been building some strength, haven't you?
She pats her sister's head as she hugs her tightly.
Moldir: And you're sprouting up like a weed.
Lopera: And you, looks like they've been feeding you well.
"Returning the favor," she slips her hand under her sister's shirt and pinches her soft belly.
Moldir: Pera!
Moldir: Stop it!
Just a little prank.
Lopera: How long will you be staying this time?
Moldir: Not long. Father plans to leave soon.
Moldir: He was furious when he heard about the defections. He ordered that he be brought here immediately.
As the admiral's most trusted lieutenant and child, she has accompanied him to the São Paulo base.
Moldir: Perhaps you might leave with us when the new C.O. arrives.
She seems hesitant.
Only the admiral decides who stays and who goes—whether it be her, Lopera, or anyone else.
Lopera: Really? But ... I don't know. Things are going well for me here, Molly. I enjoy being near the Veterans' Residence.
Moldir: Then I'm happy for you. The wisdom of elders is worth its weight in gold.
Lopera: Oh, come on! You sound just like him.
Lopera: Speaking of him, didn't the old man come with you?
She looks around, but Admiral Igor is nowhere to be seen.
Moldir: He's still with the Timekeeper, in his office.
Lopera: Ah, so you snuck out just to see me?
Lopera: Did you really? You did!
Moldir: Um, n-no, I came to, um, weed. The grounds have gotten so messy since the shutdown.
Weeding. A ridiculous excuse. Who would bother to traipse through all these desolate courtyards just to pull a few plants?
Lopera: You're lying.
Lopera: Those ears of yours are scarlet red.
This has always been one of her difficulties. Her face may be steely, but her glowing red ears always give away the truth.
Moldir: Alright, no more joking. We should get to the meeting room. Our Foundation guests are waiting. I would like to get back before they realize I've slipped away.
Lopera: Alright, but while we go, let me tell you about the prisoner we captured during our raid.
Lopera: And a strange little ship in a bottle ...
Amid the grass, a hummingbird watches the two as they walk away, talking and laughing together. It turns its gaze toward the tower in the south of the base.
The room is simple, sturdy, and clean. A military room through and through.
Sotheby and Lilya are idly looking around the reception room.
Photographs of veterans are proudly hung on the wall. They're arranged in chronological order.
Sotheby: Mm, 1968.
The soldiers look grim. They avert their eyes from the camera, a hollow look within them. It was a victory without flowers or honor.
Sotheby: Izmir. I've never heard of it. I wonder if they have any Abang-Akus there?
In one photograph, soldiers stand in formation under a row of date palms. They gaze off into the glimmering coastline.
Sotheby: 1986, Rio de Janeiro ... Hmm ... Rio ...
Sotheby: Hold on! Is—is that?!
Rio de Janeiro. Among the soldiers, she spots a face that is all too familiar.
Sotheby: Mr. Karson?!
She jumps up, trying to get ahold of the wooden frame.
Mr. Karson disappeared in the "Storm" of 1929.
Lilya: Oh, you have friends in Rio?
Lilya takes the photo off the wall.
Sotheby: I can't believe it! That simply must be Mr. Karson!
She would never mistake him.
He looks livelier than before. His hair is darker and wilder, but his features are unmistakably those of her dear butler.
Sotheby: But the "Storm" ... I saw him ... He dissolved.
Lilya: Mr. Karson? What, you mean this old geezer in the photo? What are you talking about?
Sotheby nods her head fervently.
Sotheby: Why, this must be Mr. Karson!
Sotheby: There's no two men in the world that could look so alike! Could it be a doppelganger or an evil twin? But then, surely Mr. Karson would have mentioned a twin brother—even an evil one.
Sotheby: The nose ... and his eyes ... Though he's not wearing his glasses, but I know those wrinkles.
Sotheby continues to talk to herself. The man in the photo looks just like Mr. Karson, save for the smile on his face.
The stern old butler would never smile like that.
Sotheby: I have to look closer!
Sotheby: I must be mistaken. But he is so very alike to the Karson I remember.
Like a potion in a bottle, a thousand and one questions bubble up in her mind.
She almost presses her nose against the dusty glass of the picture frame as she tries to make out every detail.
Sotheby: Maybe then, Mr. Karson could still be ...
The dust has gotten into her nose.
Sotheby: sneezes
Admiral Igor strides into the room.
Admiral Igor: Where is Lieutenant Moldir?
He looks around. Moldir was supposed to be welcoming their new guests.
Lilya: Sir. Timekeeper.
Lilya immediately straightens up, saluting the admiral.
Sotheby: Ms. Vertin! Come and look!
Sotheby waves at her, the photograph clutched in her hand.
Sotheby: Mr. Karson could still be alive!
Vertin: Huh?!
Still alive?! The Mr. Karson who vanished before their eyes in the "Storm" of 1929?
Lilya: I guess Sotheby saw someone familiar in one of these veterans' photos. You know this Karson guy?
Sotheby: Look, look!
Vertin: ...!
How could it be? Mr. Karson was erased by the "Storm" of 1929.
Vertin: He does bear a striking resemblance to Mr. Karson, if my memory serves me right.
Yet here he is, in a photo dated 1986.
The admiral strides over and examines the photo.
Admiral Igor: Oh, '86. We lost many good soldiers to the Amazon that year. But some battled through, survived.
Admiral Igor: This man is one of the latter.
Admiral Igor: You are saying that you've met this man before?
Vertin: He looks remarkably similar to a friend of ours who was lost in the "Storm" in 1929.
Vertin: In fact, Admiral. They appear to be nearly identical. It's almost unthinkable.
Sotheby: I must say Mr. Karson would never dress like that. But I'm certain this is him!
Just looking at him brings back memories of her dear old butler.
Admiral Igor: That is fascinating.
Vertin: Do you know if this man is still alive?
Admiral Igor: I couldn't say, doubtful he would be in our service anymore. But you may find him at the Veterans' Residence in São Paulo.
São Paulo, the Veterans' Residence. Like items washed to the shore, secrets and answers gather there, waiting for the birds to carry them away.
Lopera: Hi, everyone!
Moldir: Thank you for your pa-tience.
The two of them are met with a cold look from the admiral.
Admiral Igor: ...
Lopera: Sir ...
