Homesick

4702 had been making his way to the foundry when things went wrong. The foundry wasn’t far, but no matter how fast he walked he never got any closer. Strangely, the others were moving ahead of him even though he was walking faster than they were. Soon he found himself left behind and unable to catch up. He ran, but the ground between him and his brothers and sisters only grew larger. He could no longer smell them. He felt exposed without the feel of their bodies pressing against him. An icy fear crept into him. Something was very wrong!

Next he found himself in the brickyard, but his stack of bricks was crumbling even as he added more bricks. The bricks grew soft and powdery, so useless that the builders could do nothing with them. They were crumbling to dust before his eyes. Even worse, there were no other piles! The Masters had no bricks at all! He tried to run to find more, but his feet slipped in sand. He could see the wheel from where he was and he noticed it was slowing down. He tried again to run, but his feet wouldn’t make contact with the ground. He felt abnormally light and everything was slippery. The wheel was stopping and he was helpless to prevent it! He could smell nothing, nor could he sense the comfort of the others. He was alone!

His eyes opened and he let out a startled screech! Terror! His nightmare was true! He scanned the room wildly. The others were gone! He was totally alone! He pawed at the clean sheet that covered him. He pulled it off frantically and jumped from the bed. His weight was wrong. He was too light, just like in his dream! He remembered this place now. This was the real nightmare! He was again trapped in the machine!

“Masters!” he shrieked. “Help! Brothers of love! Take me back!”

He stared in panic at the shiny surfaces that bombarded him with reflections. Everything was clean and sterile! He remembered that. That’s what the machine was like. He’d lived what seemed like an eternity now in that horrible stark cleanness with those hungry soft surfaces that grabbed at him. But, worst of all was the loneliness! People here were forced to live out their lives alone in huge rooms! There were no brothers and sisters to sleep with and work with. And there were no Masters here either! Now he was really scared! Who would direct him? What was he supposed to do? There were no bricks to stack! And the wheel! Who would turn the wheel? If he was here, how would it run? The other Brethren turned it, but he set the pace! They loved the Masters, of course, but he really loved them! Without him managing the place, things would surely fall apart! What if the wheel slowed down or stopped altogether? The Masters would be displeased! He trembled violently at this thought. He could see their disappointed faces and downcast demeanors. He was letting them down! Tears flooded his vision, making the shiny surfaces scream at him with hostile glares of color. He ran in circles on the floor. What to do?

He looked down through the window to the hazy, blue shape below. He didn’t understand how, but he knew the Masters were in that direction. He touched the clear wall that faced the blue world drifting by. He pushed against the barrier, but it didn’t give. He pounded it with his fist, but it was solid as stone. Then he scanned the room. His eyes settled on a small, metal table near that awful bed. He lifted it free, spilling the contents, and threw it hard against the glass. It bounced off uselessly.

But then he noticed a metal tool hanging on one of the walls. He vaguely remembered that the tool was used in climbing large rocks. The word “pick” came to mind. Some of his brothers used similar tools to separate chunks of stone in the mines. He wrenched it from the wall, discarding the rope attached to it, and proceeded to hammer the window with heavy, forceful blows. Blood dropped onto the transparent surface as the stitches in his chest tore free.