Captain Avery had always believed that the universe, if approached with sufficient skepticism, would eventually admit it was making a mistake.
The universe, regrettably, had developed a contrary disposition.
“Maintenance,” he repeated. “For the record, whenever an ancient civilization says maintenance, ordinary people usually end up fleeing something with entirely unreasonable numbers of legs.”
A masked figure inclined its head.
“Statement statistically supported.”
Engineer Leonardo brightened with the unmistakable enthusiasm of a man discovering his worst fears had been peer-reviewed.
“Oh dear.”
Lady Blackbird stepped toward the chest, where the lightning rod lay with the innocent composure peculiar to artifacts that had previously ended empires.
It looked almost respectable now, which was deeply suspicious.
espectability, she had long observed, was often merely catastrophe wearing polished boots.
“What,” she asked, “requires maintenance after a thousand years?”
All the masked custodians answered together.
“Reality.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Even silence appeared uncertain whether it wished to continue.
Leonardo eventually cleared his throat with the care of a gentleman attempting not to offend the laws of existence.
“I should like,” he said, “to hear the longer explanation.”
“There is no longer explanation.”
“I was afraid of that.”
The bronze beacon turned once, almost thoughtfully.
Far below, another blue column flickered.
Then another vanished.
The nearest custodian regarded the distant light without visible concern, which somehow made matters considerably worse.
“Lighthouse Forty-Eight has failed.”
“What does it illuminate?” Avery asked.
The masked face turned toward him.
“It prevents geography.”
There are professions that prepare one for alarming statements.
Accounting occasionally brushes against them.
Diplomacy rents them by the afternoon.
Sailors become acquainted through prolonged exposure.
None, however, adequately equip a person for learning that mountains, oceans and respectable peninsulas apparently required supervision lest they wander off like absent-minded sheep.
Somewhere beneath the clouds came a noise resembling continents reconsidering their arrangements.
Leonardo removed his spectacles, polished them carefully, replaced them, and sighed.
Ping:
Dreamquest 