Energy costs
There comes a point in some people’s lives when the acts of breathing, seeing, and walking are joys in and of themselves. Being alive becomes its own smile-causing reward. The trials and tribulations of life are experiences that never fully penetrate to a depth that affects the base happiness that now takes up space near the heart.
Just the act of being hurt or feeling anger or happiness are all signs of being alive which beats the hell out of the alternative. Every moment after waking is gravy.
Grace thinks that this is a sign of age.
She checks the calculations again underneath the base of the huge quantum distiller oscilloscope proto-generator. She’s near the valve at the bottom. It looks like a tap.
The smooth upturned bell of the generator housing arcs away up to the ceiling. It has a circumference of over seven miles. If she looks directly up, the polished metal and pipes snaking their way across the bowl take up her entire peripheral vision.
If she were claustrophobic, she’d be sweating right now.
As it is, she’s smirking and checking the screens on the terminal below the tap.
Everything looks good but of course, it’s all theoretical.
The government wants oil. There is no more oil left beneath the glass craters that used to be the Middle East. Canada is dry now as well.
Panic is rising.
Grace and her team have used the computers to prove that there is oil in the quantum distiller oscilloscope proto-generator. By proving this mathematically, it’s hoped that it will collapse into a ‘real’ state when the final step is taken.
The final step of turning on the tap.
Grace gets the command in her headset to step forward and turn on the tap.
With a deep breath and a straight back, she takes two decisive steps forward, holds up a glass beaker and turns the knob very slightly on the bottom of what could become a life-giving breast to the entire planet.
Grace’s eyes widen as liquid drips out of the nozzle. Her smile drops.
Something must have gone wrong with the proofs.
Drops of blood are dropping from the tap nozzle and filling the beaker.
tags
Just the act of being hurt or feeling anger or happiness are all signs of being alive which beats the hell out of the alternative. Every moment after waking is gravy.
Grace thinks that this is a sign of age.
She checks the calculations again underneath the base of the huge quantum distiller oscilloscope proto-generator. She’s near the valve at the bottom. It looks like a tap.
The smooth upturned bell of the generator housing arcs away up to the ceiling. It has a circumference of over seven miles. If she looks directly up, the polished metal and pipes snaking their way across the bowl take up her entire peripheral vision.
If she were claustrophobic, she’d be sweating right now.
As it is, she’s smirking and checking the screens on the terminal below the tap.
Everything looks good but of course, it’s all theoretical.
The government wants oil. There is no more oil left beneath the glass craters that used to be the Middle East. Canada is dry now as well.
Panic is rising.
Grace and her team have used the computers to prove that there is oil in the quantum distiller oscilloscope proto-generator. By proving this mathematically, it’s hoped that it will collapse into a ‘real’ state when the final step is taken.
The final step of turning on the tap.
Grace gets the command in her headset to step forward and turn on the tap.
With a deep breath and a straight back, she takes two decisive steps forward, holds up a glass beaker and turns the knob very slightly on the bottom of what could become a life-giving breast to the entire planet.
Grace’s eyes widen as liquid drips out of the nozzle. Her smile drops.
Something must have gone wrong with the proofs.
Drops of blood are dropping from the tap nozzle and filling the beaker.
tags