skitching

With hurricane Kiaora raging, a cloaked and sodden Nowa runs for the shelter of a dim narthex. Upon entry a flame is lit revealing babbling captives in cages swinging gently on long chains from the distant ceiling. Ahead, a steadily advancing arc of choristers fills the hall with deafening prayer to the relentless beat of a hangry drummer pounding a kit fashioned from maple shards, tape and the rippling skins of old-timers. Climax reached the storm abates..


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supersaver

Nowa learns the plight of Ali/Kat, the house drummer exiled and condemned to repeat the Ten Thousand Hours practice until virtuosic proficiency is achieved only to be maddeningly reincarnated as a novice. Aided by two rebellious young altos, Nowa stages a jam session to release the curse but the elders have caught wind. Chanting scripture and exponentially multiplying in number they swarm from the depths of the crypt to intervene but it may already be too late..


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rollup

To ensure safer passage to the Underwhere, Nowa boards the travelator against the direction of motion allowing incremental downward progress. Hours later and the ramblings of the crumbling rubber handrail attendant weigh heavily on Nowa's eyelids. To fall asleep would be to suffer a brutally inconvenient death at the hands of the winged and circling Narcissoids. The twin M-paths activated at the beginning of the journey can keep them occupied for only so long and as the battery nears depletion they start to flicker..


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undered

Nowa awakens to a dense melee of tumbling species. Word has spread about the arrival of the Middle Eight and all hell has broken loose. Ali/Kat (1166th incarnation/883.73 practice hours in) urgently beats a path through the jostling hordes swiftly arranging themselves by weight, smell and general demeanour. Thus stratified, the isthmus beneath their feet detaches and with a mighty shudder accelerates rapidly along its pre-programmed path obliterating stragglers and leaving a trail of uncertainty in its wake..


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movin out

Basking in the heat of the suns Nowa and co lick each other's wounds and dine on the remaining snacks. Sated, they throw their heads back and give out profound thanks that flutter and reverberate through the canyons beyond... alerting a dormant sentry wheel to their presence. Spinning up and quickly closing on their location, the wheel's motion invites others of the same OS or higher to join the sortie creating a formidable death squad. Their low faint hum piques the sensitive young hearing of rebellious alto 2 whose perfect pitch enables a fast and accurate triangulation of the squad's position and resultant ETA. With moments to spare, Nowa fires off a mute pulse turning everything into a silent movie as the sentries now blind and denied of their quarry tear through the camp and each other..


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rafter

Gently propelled along the emerald surface of an underwater lake by the deep breathing of the seabed itself, Nowa searches the melancholy faces of the stone statues littering the ocean floor. Trapped within a marble cast but very much alive, Theni watches from below as Nowa drifts by, desperately trying everything possible within the extreme constraints to make contact. Screaming serves only to painfully deafen in the tight confines however the sudden change in air pressure releases a tiny stream of bubbles through a crack in the rough carved surface. Feeling a gentle tickle Nowa looks down just in time to see one of the statues blink..


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hims

It's a dry, crisp evening and a young Nowa listens intently to the Elder narrating the footage projected onto the whitewashed outer wall of the classroom. For days they've been binging the entire recorded history of their kind, looking for crucial narrative arcs and overlooked plotlines that may have led to their meagre settlement being the very last in existence. The finale approaches and still none the wiser Nowa delves deep into the comments emerging triumphant hours later with a link to an alternate ending. Seconds after posting it on the Council Forum a reply alert pings loudly into the night air and is promptly mimicked by a plume of migrating mirebirds who unwittingly carry the good news to their second homes nestled in the eaves of dwellings far far away..


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robes

With Ali/Kat (23,634th incarnation/0.4 practice hours) shakily keeping time on an unlathed bell, the rows of lanky paddlers fervently impel their tiny craft through the roiling squall. They take turns pissing over the side in an effort to preserve the crews of previous attempts now floundering in the icy fluid that slowly but surely eats through the hull. Four full bars of rhythmic alignment between oar and wave are needed to grant them access to the fairer climes visible only to Nowa through hairline sights of the colliderscope. The downbeat approaches and as leaks spring from the breached decking Nowa's raised hands clap the polymeter that snaps events into phase and flings them through the barline..


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rememberer

Blinking in the total darkness, Nowa stands cautiously on the tacky sloping floor with arms outstretched reaching for unavailable support. Calling out initiates a chain of echoes that each manifest into tiny but proportional simulacra that scurry further into the depths of the yet unseen catacombs, assisting Nowa in the search for companions. Awoken from a deep power nap by the miniature footfall, Theni too calls out into the gloom sending reciprocal avatars scampering forth. Congregating together in a discussion booth on the upper levels the two sets of micro-representatives debate in hushed tones the implications of their masters’ meeting. A verdict is reached whereupon they file out as quickly as they arrived and skitter back down to their respective hosts to gently break the news..


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patty

Holed up in the roomy atrium of the stealth barge, Nowa and the remaining crew enjoy a well-deserved evening of discreet entertainment. The hired stripbot slowly emerges from behind a shady curtain and following a brief introduction, weaves salaciously between the tables relieving each cheering guest of their roadworn clothing piece by piece. Deftly donning all the gathered garments as the performance progresses, the bot rapidly expands to a size that shatters the furniture and pins everyone against the walls. Naked and gasping for breath Nowa frantically reaches for the touchscreen mode controller and cycles through the menu. Opting for 'patio' the iron barge machinery deep in the hold awakens to smoothly reconfigure the vessel and as the walls recede and rotate to horizontal the now spherical stripbot is sent tumbling into the chasm..


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mull

Bagging the highly sought after panoramic seats, Nowa settles in for the long journey and delegates all decisions to the onboard navigation. Highly attuned to Nowa's psyche, the driverless shuttle performs continual automated course-corrections in line with the occupant's ever changing subconscious intuition regarding a final destination. Unbeknownst to Nowa, Theni boards the vehicle at the next charging stop taking the less desirable seats in the neighbouring compartment fully separated by a moulded paywall. The extra passenger doubles the shuttle's data input forcing it to extrapolate averages between them in real time. Nearing overload it rapidly sifts through both of their subliminal desires before cross-referencing a shortlist of common goals and plotting a course accordingly. Blissfully unaware of these troubles as well as each other, Nowa and Theni sleep deeply, dreaming of reaching the terminus and stepping out onto the same sands..


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u

The solar breeze rustles the heavy fronds of the gravity palms as preparations are made for the evening's concert, occurring just once every 19 years at the start of a new Metonic cycle. Painstakingly carved from rare plastic, the ornate soaring columns of the main stage rise dizzyingly high to meet the self-sustaining community of lighting rig technicians living in their ephemeral abode of swaying scaffolding. Backstage, the three plush dressing rooms are furnished with an impressively broad gradient of tea flavours as well as sumptuous local pastries and arrangements of the finest meat bouquets. Confined to their respective spaces until the performance, Ali/Kat (now at peak ability) munches seanuts and warms up on a cylindrical practice plynth. Next door Theni uploads holowear outfits whilst Nowa in the darkened adjoining room lies on the floor with eyes closed, mentally randomising the setlist until a satisfactory order presents itself. Outside, the crowd swells as the light fades to the closing notes of the opening act signalling the time is now..


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home strait

Homeward bound, the battered transporter zips through the soft haze of the early hours at a competitive pace. A freshly incarnated Ali/Kat reclines languidly in the rear, gorging on salami petals from the show rider as Theni plays back the recording of the night before. Casually monitoring the autopilot, Nowa listens with a critical ear set at minimum tolerance that surprisingly finds nothing out of place. Reverting to factory hearing also reveals nothing but the pure joy of their playing enhanced by the massed revellers moving as one in a transcendent unity with the mighty trio. Energized and happy they playfully throw themselves onto one other in the tiny cockpit, unwittingly disengaging the driverless function with their flailing limbs. Back on manual and still travelling at great speed they drift across the central reservation clipping the edge of a steel barrier that pitches the transporter violently into the air..


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