conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book about Theo, Wilberforce, Rachel entitled Under the Mountain.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Under the Mountain (film): Teenage twins Rachel and Theo travel to Auckland to stay with relatives following the sudden death of their mother.\nWhere there was once a psychic bond between them, now there is a rift as Theo, particularly, refuses to confront his grief.\nRachel reaches out to him, but is rebuffed.\nStaying with their Aunt Kay and Uncle Cliff on Lake Pupuke, the twins are fascinated by the volcanic lake and the smell that seems to come from creepy old Wilberforce house around the shore.\nThey visit Mt Eden, where Theo sees Mr Jones, a strange old man from whose hands fire seems to glow.\nWhen it seems the twins are being watched – and that the Wilberforces can smell them – Theo resolves to investigate the Wilberforce house.\nInside, he and Rachel find what can only be an alien environment.\nThey overhear Mr Wilberforce talking about something stirring beneath the ground.\nHe says he will kill the twins if they find "the fire-raiser".\nRachel is alarmed and reaches out to Theo but, terrified of getting close to anyone since his mother\'s death, he pushes her away and sets out alone to find the fireraiser – the man he saw on the mountain top.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book about Matheson, Mountain, Beneath entitled Under the Mountain.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Under the Mountain: Beneath the extinct volcanoes surrounding the city, giant creatures are waking from a spellbound sleep that has lasted thousands of years.\nTheir goal is the destruction of the world.\nRachel and Theo Matheson are twins.\nApart from having red hair, there is nothing remarkable about them - or so they think.\nThey are horrified to discover that they have a strange and awesome destiny.\nOnly the Matheson twins can save the world from the terror of what is under the mountain.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Under the Mountain: Beneath the extinct volcanoes surrounding the city, giant creatures are waking from a spellbound sleep that has lasted thousands of years.\nTheir goal is the destruction of the world.\nRachel and Theo Matheson are twins.\nApart from having red hair, there is nothing remarkable about them - or so they think.\nThey are horrified to discover that they have a strange and awesome destiny.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first three paragraphs for this book.. End with the sentence '''.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Under the Mountain
  One afternoon on a farm outside a small town in the King Country two children wandered into the bush and were lost. They were twins, a brother and sister, three years old. Their father was mending fences. For more than half an hour he did not notice they were gone. When he looked up and saw the empty paddock, the bush, the brown cold river, he had the dreadful feeling that his children were lost forever.
  He ran up the river bank, calling their names. He plunged into the bush. For an hour he searched, growing more frightened, more frenzied. Then he ran back to his truck and roared across the fields to his house. He shouted to his wife in the kitchen, rang the police, rang neighbours; and by late afternoon a hundred men and women, many with dogs, were searching the river banks and bush by the farm. They found nothing. The sun went down behind the black hills west of the town. Darkness came. Winter is hard in this part of the North Island. The morning paddocks are white as though under snow. A frost of ten degrees was expected that night.
  One man in the town had not heard of the search. He was just passing through. He was an old man and did not look as if he would have been much help anyway. The waitress at the hotel brought him his soup. She slopped it on the tablecloth and apologised. 'It's those poor little dears out in the bush,' she explained. 'I just can't keep my mind off them.'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She brushed her fear away as though it were an insect: no need to be frightened of spiders or wasps – they could sting you but that was all. She picked up the stone, and although it burned like steam from a kettle she held it, she kept her hand clenched – she held it though a crying noise forced its way between her lips. 'Oh, please, somebody. Talk to me. Say something. I can hold it if somebody says something.'
  Tears were running down her face. The heat was not growing, but neither did it seem to be getting less. She was sure the skin was burning off her palm. 'I know you don't want to remember. But I want to know. So tell me. Or else I'll drop it. It's burning me up.'
  Slowly a picture began to grow in her mind. It was grey, and she knew the lack of colour came from Mr Jones's reluctance. But slowly it began to take other tones. Two boys, both with red hair, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, were at a table sewing boots with leather thread. They were in a tiny room, dark, littered with scraps of leather. A man seemed to be shouting at them.
  She saw another room, simply furnished with beds, a table, chairs. The two boys were sitting at the table with their eyes fixed on the stones. One of the stones was red. The boy – she knew his name was Johan – reached out and picked it up. He grimaced, but held it. Then he grinned.
  She saw a sailing ship then, with grey patched sails. It was running before a strong wind amongst islands covered with green bush.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She brushed her fear away as though it were an insect: no need to be frightened of spiders or wasps – they could sting you but that was all. She picked up the stone, and although it burned like steam from a kettle she held it, she kept her hand clenched – she held it though a crying noise forced its way between her lips. 'Oh, please, somebody. Talk to me. Say something. I can hold it if somebody says something.'
  Tears were running down her face. The heat was not growing, but neither did it seem to be getting less. She was sure the skin was burning off her palm. 'I know you don't want to remember. But I want to know. So tell me. Or else I'll drop it. It's burning me up.'
  Slowly a picture began to grow in her mind. It was grey, and she knew the lack of colour came from Mr Jones's reluctance. But slowly it began to take other tones. Two boys, both with red hair, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, were at a table sewing boots with leather thread. They were in a tiny room, dark, littered with scraps of leather. A man seemed to be shouting at them.
  She saw another room, simply furnished with beds, a table, chairs. The two boys were sitting at the table with their eyes fixed on the stones. One of the stones was red. The boy – she knew his name was Johan – reached out and picked it up. He grimaced, but held it. Then he grinned.
  She saw a sailing ship then, with grey patched sails.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rangitoto was not important, he knew. It would lay a foot of ash over the city. But the lake – the lake... All those houses, the hospital, the people... He hid his eyes and lay down on the ground.
  His voice passed quietly through their minds. It died. They raised their heads and saw a pale flame floating over the crater. It turned into a mist. The wind broke it and flung it away.
  In a little while they stood up. Under the fierce red sky they climbed down from the mountain and walked hand in hand through the streets. They found a knot of people and asked for shelter from the wind and ash.
  Maurice Gee is one of New Zealand's best-known writers for adults and children. He has won a number of literary awards, including the Wattie Award, the Deutz Medal for Fiction, the New Zealand Fiction Award, the New Zealand Children's Book of the Year Award and the Prime Minister's Award for Literary Achievement.