{"type":"location","location":{"title":"Your Apartment - Early Morning, July 24th, 1969","description":"You sit at your kitchen table, a cup of cold coffee growing colder beside you. The morning sun filters through the venetian blinds, casting pale stripes across the stack of computer printouts spread before you. Your eyes are gritty from lack of sleep.\n\nIt was routine work—checking telemetry data from Apollo 11's lunar orbit insertion, the kind of mind-numbing verification that junior contractors like yourself do by the thousands. But then you saw it. A second coordinate string, timestamped 2:47 AM Houston time, July 21st. Clean. Precise. But completely absent from every official manifest you can access.\n\nYou'd mentioned it to Dr. Hendricks at the office yesterday morning. He'd gone pale, said he'd look into it, that you should keep quiet about it. That was yesterday. He hasn't answered his phone since.\n\nThrough the kitchen window, you notice the brown sedan still parked across the street. The man inside hasn't moved in three days. He's reading that same newspaper again.\n\nYour telephone sits silent on the counter. Your supervisor's office number is busy. Again.","suggestedActions":["Call your supervisor's office again","Examine the printouts more carefully for clues","Go down to the parking lot to get a closer look at the man in the brown sedan","Call Dr. Hendricks' home number"],"conversation":"m3l4gkjl2xcsl8a3euolwr"},"conversationLength":1,"maxFreeConversationLength":10}