This article is a work in progress!
SCENE: In a Place Beyond Mortal Ken
SANATANA. What excellent and fine design
That one may find within this place:
Each cog and wheel a clever rhyme
With golden light upon its face.
I see the souls of mortal men
Beyond the veil that masks this world.
Though they may toil time and again,
What wondrous strive becomes unfurled!
But harken now, I do digress,
For I speak not into the wind!
Hide not inside the emptiness,
And speak to me, the one within!
VINCLAV (stepping forth). My master, surely you think not
That I would hide beyond your sight.
Your view is ever in my thought,
And by my form it would be soiled.
SANATANA. Quiet, knave! Your sharpened tongue
May well cut deep in mortal ears
And make them serve you before long,
But I am older than the years!
VINCLAV. Never, I meant disrespect
to one so great and true.
The harmony you did perfect
Does credit onto you!
Though tell me do you not distress
At humans as they make their steps?
At humans heaping their regrets?
At souls in truly cold and cruel
SANATANA. You speak as one who does not know,
The power of the human soul,
Oh, war will man, and suffer down below
But always will he come here whole.
No sadness, horror, or distress
Can touch that mighty spark
And when it floats onto my breast
I’ll kiss away the dark!
VINCLAV. Never, then it must be so;
But I am one to lark.
I hear the words, but do not know:
Can nothing harm this spark?
I saw the wickedness of man
Reflected in their eye,
And if a soul they carry then
it may just crack in time.
SANATANA. Verily, then be my guest,
Oh shyster clad in ashen garb.
And I know one who won’t protest
To be the object of your lark.
Do you know Glint?
VINCLAV. Doctor Glint of Guantil-ya?
She surely has no hint…
SANATANA. My bright and faithful star.
Yes, ever has this one amused:
A scholar so she was ordained,
And praises on her quite profuse
Have all her peers ever proclaimed.
And sciences are not enough
To sate her mental appetites
She longs to know the very stuff
From which my cogs and gears arise.
VINCLAV. Oh, now I see, she means to build
A thing that she already has!
And do I not possess a key just for that ilk…
The bet is fair and I say yes!
SCENE: A Lecture Hall in the Van Maxwell School of Logic and Sciences
STUDENT ONE. As ever we are in the thick
Of all too strange arithmetic.
How did the work go for you then?
STUDENT TWO. It was beyond my feeble ken…
Such exercise seems ill advised
For minds so underutilized.
STUDENT THREE. Perhaps you should not speak so loud,
When you proclaim yourself as cowed.
Surely, you are in this class
With some idea of calculus!
STUDENT ONE. Yes, such we have, don’t mock us, friend,
I know the tables of Tarîn, the axioms of Bertelsten,
And years I studied every trick
Of glorious arithmetic!
STUDENT TWO. But oh the Doctor, what a mind!
Without ever breaking form, is esoteric’ly inclined.
Her thoughts are trapped in higher spheres
And we are trapped quite firmly here.
STUDENT THREE. And if she is, that means the game
Is then for us to do the same -
As researchers to find her wrongs…
STUDENT ONE. Careful now, here she comes!
GLINT. To the front now pass your papers,
I shall find fault with them later.
For now you will find some elation
In closely scanning this equation.
STUDENT THREE. A unit from no written set!
GLINT. No formulary has it yet.
Still, work with it, by my coercion,
Look here, make use of this conversion.
(to herself). Show me what you all can find
And exercise your child-like minds.
I’ll gladly look in any place
For vestiges of human grace…
STUDENT ONE. Oh no, I still don’t understand,
The lesson almost at its end!
And blank the sheet here on my desk
STUDENT THREE. Well did you do your very best?
It was not past my intellect.
GLINT. Well, let me be the judge of that.
Now off you go, I will collect
The papers put onto your desks.
(After the students have left). Child-like indeed! I spy no skill,
Just wasted paper, ink, and quill!
But what is this? I shall decree
Some merit here with student three…
A novel thought I may employ,
And find results quite to my joy.
Now to my office, I hope to find
The parcel from my hapless knight.
SCENE: In Dr. Glint’s office.
GLINT. Now let us see if all is right:
The still, the magic manifold,
The sigil of the night,
And metal gears of solid gold…
But not my parcel, drat!
YORGEN. Doctor, do not fret!
Your faithful Yorgen has arrived,
And here the thing I have contrived.
GLINT. Inventor Yorgen, what relief,
Your sight, indeed, is a reprieve!
And oh the parcel, as requested,
My faith in you was well invested.
Now let me see the installation
Made possible by my equation.
YORGEN. A devilish tricky thing to build,
But I am clever and quite skilled.
I bent the gold in five dimensions
And from a soul I added dusts,
Which should serve well for form retention:
Within the real it will not rust.
Where you get such ethereal stuff
Like this, I think I know enough
To make my guesses close.
GLINT. Try not to lose your nose,
When you start sticking it in here.
But if this works, I’ll buy the beer.
YORGEN. Now this I do enjoy to hear
I ever liked the taste of beer.
But even more so I request
The company that you suggest.
GLINT. Let it be so when I am done,
Inventor, the sooner you are gone
Now, the sooner we shall meet again.
YORGEN. It is my pleasure to leave you then.
GLINT (now alone). So tiresome, this old buffoon,
I hope to cut him loose quite soon.
This parcel holds the final means
For that, the king of the machines!
Yes, within I see bright as fate,
The framing for a golden gate!
Small perhaps, a book in size,
Such is the price of compromise.
Now let me set the wings in there
That I have made from many souls.
Oh, and the frame, if I do stare,
Makes all grow black as dirty coals!
Though it is naught for me to worry,
Did I not every cautiously
Pick animals to bring no folly
Down on my name and onto me?
There, now the gate is built;
And eerily it stands.
The world that is revealed,
Shall soon heed my commands!
What is this? It will not open up!
Even if I pull and drag,
Even when my wrench has struck
It, or my metal sprag!
SCENE: In the lowest reaches of a place beyond ken.
VINCLAV. Well this is rather disappointing,
The quality of souls is poor,
If this is where the gate is pointing.
I’ll place a carpet of velour.
A primly dressed one such as me,
Should not just soil his little feet,
And small they have to be indeed
This gate before me is petite.
Well out I go, here is the key,
I keep it deep inside my coat
With every other one that be
I pass through door and wall and moat.
(Stepping through the gate and onto Dr. Glint’s desk). Madam, I pull my hat before thee,
What a feat you have performed!
You built this gate to come and see me;
I do say that my heart is warmed.
SCENE: In Dr. Glints office.