The Scouts investigated the powerful and heavy talking walls. Huddles of men, not Scouts, also sat and read the gliding works of the world. Folders and books pressed against their faces like the sprinkles of a blue Sun. They sat on stools to explore all, the cries of armies, the millions of fragments that called the human creature to move. Her eyes, that were six, also spun as her brain filled with a banquet of information. This blue light made mankind old. They had learned to swim in the cyclone of the web and devour the thoughts of the world. But soaking in this sun would cause the body to crawl as if with spiders. It would become ready to draw fresh, clean air. But most people sat long after the whirl of the inner flesh had gained momentum – so magnetic was the hum of this screen.
A Scout noticed her, cat-eared and six. He thought by instinct to carry her out of the dome for air. As he mentioned to himself this choice, the comforting light found the corner of his eye, and so he held himself chained to this generous window. The angel weeped for air, but so gripping were the colors and voices of the walls that none remembered to hear. The black face of a man became strained as stifled cries beckoned from just outside the case of his numb brain. He held himself upward and against all his senses, turned away from the calling of answers, and games, and formulas, and recitations. In the distance, he saw sickly skin and a shiny little skirt. One step, one step at a time, he stepped down a middle path passing along heads residing on spinal stalks. Blue light broke through his fingers as he held the scrambling girl and dragged against the stress of the wall’s gravity. Now he was blasting through the corridor stabbing his feet from the knee and tearing through time. And finally, their chests glowed with the air of night.