The door was large and steel. The room was cold and dark. My Archonarchian friend ushered me inside, and closed the door behind me. The light came from high above, creating a cold silver circle for me to stand in. I certainly felt at the time that the dark emptiness was a refreshing change from the chaotic outside. The noise had given an ache to my head, and now I found myself at rest.

June 20, 2036 An upgrade is released to the Boards, allowing Nanocules to record sensory input, rather than requiring an external phone or recording equipment. Hand-held devices are now unnecessary to completely utilize the Boards, as video recording is done through the users eyes, while audio recording is done through their ears. Physical recording equipment begins to disappear. Professional cameramen begin to train themselves to keep their gaze steady without blinking for long periods of time, while sales of professional recording equipment drops sharply, as even the high end recording devices cannot compete with the perfect quality and ease of Nanocules.

In the centuries before recorded time, before the Myriad Worlds were set in their spiraling dance, the great giant Yurghyn stood tall on the land of Ut-cart. Ut-cart was, among the known world, the most verdant and beloved of lands, with people who cared well for each other and the balance-of-things. Yurghyn, however, did not care for the balance-of-things, for the evil that he saw in the wasp sting and the viper’s tooth repulsed him.

I am not ashamed to admit, I was crying when we left Lady Song. I did not look to see if my companions too had been affected by her words; more fool me, I thought it polite. Of course, had I been born of another time and perhaps another place, I would likely have found it the height of callousness to allow them their thoughts alone. Of course, that lovely part of me that embraces my Sensate nature was already crafting a poem — but now I found myself in conflict twice over.

And there we were, in the darkness. Surrounded. Alone. The five of us together. No hopes, no dreams, nothing but the uncertain truth of our situation. There was a pool of light we could not see. A howling scream we could not hear. Children, children everywhere, grabbing and laughing and crying. Thousands dead, thousands more alive. A singular moment stretched on into infinity. We were now, and then, and to become.

May 29, 2034 Per capita use of Nanocule Browsing outpaces the use of every other method of board browsing combined. Economists and Market Analysts claim this is the tipping point for Nanocules as the status quo of board browsers. July 4, 2034 The UVote program is released to the Boards. This experiment in democracy displays all the bills and laws currently in committee, or up for a vote in representative countries across the world.

Now, I will not say that this is where the conversation ended. I will say that this is where the important and interesting aspects of the conversation ceased. Hours passed as each of us tried in turn, begging, pleading, promising, and threatening. The two Majesties did not mind our efforts, nor succumb to our pleas. If you are interested in the fascinating, if at times repetitive and at all times impractical, conversation, you may find them in my poem The Detailed Discourse of the Two Majesties.

Oh, the Apex, the beautiful and winding words that descended from the base of the cervical vertebrae to the occipital. Heresy. Damnable heresy for one such as I, a Sensate in good standing of the Grandiose Guild, to say I still find myself at a loss for words. What could be said to convey the glory and horror of the hallways, stairways, and byways of the Apex. For the beauty was not in its sweeping archways, its Ivory palisades, its golden buttresses, nor its marbled cloisters.

Even with the careful and steady guidance of Nock, it took us many days to make our way out of the wooded jungle that was the Inner Wings. We traveled through the Asparitetis and out the other end, around the Oyn and about the Upper Scapula we walked, seeking egress from the foul environs, until at last we arrived at the Pollier. Covered with barnacles and dangling vines, the Pollier was perhaps the quietest portion of our journey.

7:18 am, October 3, 2055 Jack stared down at her limp form. Part of his brain was working furiously trying to think of what had happened, what was going on. The rest of his brain was calm and detached. He had met Connie on the train five years ago. She had been reading an old paperback book. He knew the author, and loved the old paperbacks himself, so he worked up the courage to introduce himself.