VotF:Construction~aka~Deity 4: If you build it….

Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
~William Allingham, The Fairies

Large things are made up of smaller things.

Its a universal truth. Small things are yet made up of even smaller things. Thus it drifts down and down, until we have to invent silly works for our made up small particles.

But never have we been able to assemble small things in such a way that they become innately large, yet, at the same time, retain every facet of their small size.

Until Tomorrow…

For the record, I never intended to destroy the world. It just sort of happened.

Life does that to me a lot.

I wander through in a daze, and the universe bends over double to stay out of my way, to ease me along.

I’m going to die a horrible death. I just know it.

Anyway, in college, my classes were always easy, never failed a test. I picked up an EECS degree in no time and meandered around, fiddling on my own. I became fascinated with a psychical Turing test. I began a robot designed to build a smaller version of itself. Then, I began working my way down. By the end of a year, I created a robotic ecosystem in my basement. I built only five robots and designed another four. By the time the government shut me down, I had over fifty robotic subspecies of life. It was incredible, breathtaking, stunning.

I think the government is trying to make sense of my work. As they issued me the warrant for DoD confiscation of my Ecosystem, I was told my services wouldn’t be needed by the government or at work. I had been sacked.

And so Del-

Fate. Fate moved me towards my destiny.

There were two noteworthy things about the facility.

One, after creating evolution in my basement, having a robotic tomato measuring system was lame. I did that in a 57 hour caffeine marathon. I slept for a week, implemented the system, then slept for a week. After that, I was told to either have standard hours, or to clear my workbench.

I set my alarm clock then.

The other thing was the club.

Every office has its clicks. But there were only nine of us there. We got along reasonably well enough, so we all sat in an empty conference room. Big desk, soft chairs, and a microwave someone brought in. No one complained and I doubt they noticed.

We met and in the years we worked there, we opened up more at that table than any other point in our lives. We shared our secret ideas. I told about my machines, how I would wake up to the gentle pings of the greens, and fall asleep to the low tone of the subhoots as they began they’re night time prowl.

Each one of us told what we missed of our old lives, as I said, but what was crucial and what she wrote down was our dreams. My micro machines, Deeks time fields, Larry’s golems, all of it. She wrote it down in her little notebook.

Then our world began to change. And the sublte differences between reality and insanity began to slip and slide.

And we were reborn.