Eternity

The man sat at the console and stared at the key in front of him.

It's too small, he thought. Then, How Freudian.

It's too small. He looked up to glance across the room at his partner, who was engrossed in reading a comic book. Tendrils of marijuana smoke drifted up from behind the lurid cover to pool against the ceiling, where they were sucked sideways by ventilators.

He looked down at the key again. He picked it up and slowly slid it into the equally dimunitive slot. He retracted it, and slid it in again. Just like sex.

Better, though. Or worse. Hell of a cum, he thought to himself. Across the room, Russell turned a page. The sound was loud in the stillness. The blank monitors stared out at him from the top of the board.

He got up. Russell looked up inquiringly. He made a jacking-off motion with his right hand, and the other nodded before turning back to the comic. He was momentarily amused, as always, at their small obscene codes. Thrusting an arm into his parka, he punched his code into the door five-five- six-three-nine-seven and waited for the warning buzzer to cycle and the enormous steel slab to slowly swing away from him.

Stepping out into the corridor, he watched the door close, and trudged off down the featureless steel tube until he reached another door, as massive as the first. He punched a different code in, and the door cycled back. He slid in around it as the opening grew wide enough to admit him, and quickly instructed the door to close.

He was alone.

Almost. As always, the enormous silent shape hung above him. He felt he could hear its sibilant breathing. The pumps whined slightly, then cut out once again. He flicked a switch near the door, and the lamps lit with a small metallic bang. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his parka against the chill, he walked across the small space and placed his hand against its flank.

The power was there.

He looked at the ceiling far above; saw the slight buckling from the light mountings as they hung from the steel. The occupant of the chamber breathed slowly. It hung in cradled rest. He walked up the two hundred and forty seven metal spiral steps around the edge and came to face the top. He punched another code; the door slid back. He stuck his head in. They were there.

Ten of them. He counted them carefully, as if any could be missing! he thought wryly. They slept an even deeper sleep; their small glinting breaths leaving his stomach cold. He felt the rows of small closed eyes, the small fitful movements as they slumbered. They frightened him. He closed the door again; locked it. Leaning against the catwalk, he regarded the side of the behemoth, and then, on impulse, placed his body against it, turning his head so that his left ear was against the surface.

The whine was there. He could feel it now, the high keening noises of the sleep. There were other noises, too; small clicks and creaks as metal adjusted itself. And far beyond, there was a...sound? Not quite. More like a force, really...a wordless, soundless shout of pride and power. He grunted, then, and pulled himself away from the side to descend the two hundred and forty seven steps and pass through the two mammoth steel doors to rejoin his partner and stare at his key.