They all had goals, without knowing what the others were doing, each contributed a part. And it drove the inspector mad.
“It will take fifty years but you’ll come around. And you’ll need to wear this helmet.”
The computer thought it would be funny if it occasionally began the self-destruct countdown.
“Spontaneous messages from the luminiferous aether are never to be trusted, is that clear?” Dials fluctuated wildly.
The last building pierced the atmosphere, touching the edge of space.
“The head of a spider, the body of a schnauzer.”
Climbing up along the giant electronic brain, they left breadcrumbs made of improvised explosives.
He created a perfect machine, one that would outlive the universe and eventually create another.
The dots of light across the station went out in a wave. Then the air compressors stopped.
They say the ground is false, the sky is an illusion. Still, things grow, and night comes.
Projectors cast the complex navigational calculations directly onto the faces of the pilots.
“This organization”, he said, “is a priority that supersedes personal feelings and morality.”
Strapping on the device wasn’t as easy as it looked, the virtual appendages were ungainly.
When the fit of madness passed, they were confused, groggy, incontinent.