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Each morning is an act of faith. A flick of the wrist and my bathroom is lit. A turn of my wrist and hot water is delivered. I send up a prayer of gratitude to the electricians and plumbers of the world. It didn’t exist 200 years ago, will it exist 200 years hence?
I’ll start with a story …
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“Stevens! No one is answering down here. Half the operation has been down for hours!”
“Um …”
“Um, what? We have communities depending on us. What’s your team doing?”
“There’s no more team.”
“What?!”
“After Carl died, Henry and Tom never showed up.”
“So? YOU take care of it. You have the fancy Master’s Degree. Carl & the others were old school. Borrow some people and get this fixed.”
“My degree … I mean… European science isn’t the only way of learning!!! I’ve been diversifying, educating my team while Carl mucked about …”
The lights died and the machinery stopped.
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Now, It’s your turn.
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featured image, cropped, from Pixabay CC0 license
CaptDMO says: (plagiarized)
“WHO run Bartertown?”
Andrew says: “This was his control room. We broke in through those windows up there. He was hiding behind that curtain—“
—“Is that blood?”
“Dorothy was used to killing by then. She slaughtered him on the spot.”
—“But he went back to Kan—“
“That was going to be Dorothy’s story to tell people.”
—“He took her with him….”
“That was my contribution to the story.”
—“…”
“As the heir to the Scarecrow Kingdom, you need to know these things. That large box over there in the corner. Pull back the cover….”
Garland Twitty says: “Materialists,” our philosophy professor was saying, “insist that the universe consists of matter and energy, and that is it! But what about mental states? What are they made of?”
Puzzled visages stared back.
“Maybe they’re just brain patterns,” a student offered.
“OK then,” the professor intoned, “but if so, what is the difference between you and a zombie, defined as someone that seems to behave normally but has no consciousness.”
Snickers wafted around the back as someone muttered about zombie professors.
At that moment, a tech appeared in the doorway and announced, “Professor, your reanimation lab is a total wreck!”
Now another lead, cold looking for sure, with obvious signs of violence, not warming my heart with feelings anything useful will be found here. Why was I told to stop at this deserted shell of what seems to have been a control room? Could anything here shed light on my brother’s disappearance? What am I looking at, what should I be looking for? Sam, talk to me, I miss you deeply, I’m trying desperately to be positive, what should I see? “Stop looking for details, stand back, look at the big picture, the lead is here” came into my mind.
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