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Spires and the Manifesto

Spires had been missing for some time. But what had been days seemed years
to him now. His crisis of concsience had finally given him no respite, and the
answer to his troubles seemed impassable.

 

In a fit of desperation he’d interfaced his mind to a difference engine,
using the same light signalling method he’d developed for the Virus. Now it
would enter him. He needed to think his way through to enlightenment.

But the long and short bits of binary made no sense to his human brain. So
he drank. The mixture was recommended from very low sorts north of his humble
Wheatstone, persons whose recommendations should never have been taken by
anyone.

Deadly nightshade, wormwood, caffeine, vodka, cacao. He almost gagged when
drinking it down, and soon wished he had. The world resolved into wave upon
wave of neverending nightmare. And somewhere, somehow, he switched the
Difference Engine back on.

 He awoke in the morning, or seveal mornings later, barely able to see.
Everything was too bright. In his shaving mirror he saw glowing green eyes with
no whites. He wore smoked lenses thereafter. He found old disgarded
ecclesiastical garments in a costume shop and paid the quizzical owner to dye
them  darker colour.

Then he held a funeral for himself, shaving his hair off and burning it for
anyone passing by to see: his old soul’s cremation. From now on he was some one
else.

Later in the day he reached the doors of the Church. He had parchment. He
had nails.

 It would be perhaps the end of him to do this, but something compelled him. Bits of code alive from the Difference Engine danced a minuet of logic in his brain. There was no bravery, no foolishness, only varying degrees of acceptable loss based on value of action.

 

the first nail was pounded in

 

the second nail  went in easier into the granite stones and he didn’t need the rickety ladder

He paused for a moment. “What was I thinking?” he said to himself incredulously.

 

 

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8 Comments

  1. Father Moonwall Father Moonwall December 13, 2010

    Unadulterated blasphemy.

  2. Sister Loxely Sister Loxely December 13, 2010

    -Carefully reads and then opens her mouth to say something, but stops. Runs over and locks herself into the Church library for deep study.-

  3. Brother Rudyard Brother Rudyard December 13, 2010

    **Pauses to read, makes a disgusted sound and goes to find Lapis.** We need to have a meeting with the Fathers, Brother, immediately. 

  4. Jimmy Branagh Jimmy Branagh December 13, 2010

    ((Jim walks by the Church on his way to the Imperial.  He notices the papers hammered into the stone next to the entrance, and stops to read.

    After a moment, he smiles and scribbles a few sentences and unrecognized words into the notebook he has begun to carry at all times, then turns back toward the Canals, toward the library.))

  5. Victor1st Mornington Victor1st Mornington December 13, 2010

    *looks up at The Manifesto and nods*

    “Good to see the Church of the Insan….Builder…is starting to come to grips with modern society, this manifesto has my support”

    *wanders off to the closest pub*

  6. Grendel Footman Grendel Footman December 13, 2010

    well, maybe that priest is a little less crazed than the rest, I still wouldn’t trust any as far as I could throw them

  7. Gabriell Anatra Gabriell Anatra December 14, 2010

    It seems rather like common sense to me.

    I imagine it will be somewhat controversial in the hierarchy though.

  8. Brother Malus Brother Malus December 14, 2010

    [img_assist|nid=1498|title=|desc=|link=popup|align=left|width=640|height=563]

     

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