The countryside. Flowers. Creeping snowberry. The road with dust. The sweat popping from little sweat glands. The line of the cable.

Beautiful country around here, said Julie.

Gorgeous, said Thomas.

Great to be alive, said the Dead Father. To breathe in and out. To feel ones muscles bite and snap.

How is your leg? Thomas asked. The mechanical one.

It is incomparable, said the Dead Father. Magnificent, that would be a word for it. I would I had two as good as the left. Old Plugalong.

How did you come by it? asked Thomas. Accident or design?

The latter, said the Dead Father. In my vastness, there was room for, necessity of, every kind of experience. I therefore decided that mechanical experience was a part of experience there was room for, in my vastness. I wanted to know what machines know.

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