Is it the mushrooms, or the Station that's doing this? Lucien sees himself just three twists of the multiverse away - like looking down a kaleidoscope with a family portrait at the end of it, the branches along the Mandelbrot set. There are so many, but this one catches his eye. 

She's a courtier, there too, with the same keen eye for people. But no petty empire building and statemaking, the real work is matchmaking and rumourmongering - that's where the real stories are. She sits at the empty fountain of an unfinished palace, reclining in a red silk dress, discussing the practicalities of flirting with astral bodies. A philosopher - the Jackdaw of this place? Or maybe the Ailee? There is both and neither in them - seeks the Lucien in the red dress's advice. She smokes, lighting a cigarette with an engraved pearl lighter.

Their eyes meet, across infinity, for just a moment. They smile at each other. They are both up to [i]mischief[/i]. They know the secret: The fool is the most powerful role in court. Speak any truth to any power, just make them laugh. 

This Lucien unbuttons their shirt, rolls their sleeves up tight. You can see the scar that runs across his right hip, another along his left collarbone. Neither naked nor clothed: A state of undress. [i]I[/i] am not indecent, but to look upon me is.

They draw their pearl-handled pistol, and pocket the useless bullets. Neither armed nor unarmed. Lucien has long resigned themself to the idea it's a prop. Even the pearl handling... it's always been a cream pie in a silver plate, hasn't it? They'll be as shocked as anyone if it ever hurts anything. 

Neither servant nor master? Who imposes their will on the tourist? Who does the tourist impose their will upon? The notion is absurd.

But the tourist follows the spectacle, the sensational. The Fool creates it. 

Another twist. Lucien follows in their own wake, now. 

[i]He[/i]turns. The Lucien in the red dress - what is her name? - runs from the burning palace, dragging the wide-eyed philosopher by the wrist. The lighter disappears in her pocket again, and she's laughing. Where is she going? Anywhere. Anywhere she goes is where the story is, and the story is anywhere she goes. And she's going to help this nerd [i]seduce[/i] the [i]bloody moon[/i].

The whole world's a stage, and the man and woman both have been exceptional players who have played many parts. More than most. They step into the roles of their respective lifetimes. 

Where's Lucien going now?

[i]Everywhere[/i].

They pick the right direction to go first. They run.