“The hafts of the tools were stained black with th sweat of us all, our contributions, black and white alike.”

M.T. Anderson

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“...they told me of color, that it was an illusion of the eye, an event in the perceiver's mind, not in the object; they told me that color had no reality; indeed, they told me that color did not inhere in a physical body any more than pain was in a needle.And then they imprisoned me in darkness; and though there was no color there, I still was black, and they still were white; and for that, they bound and gagged me.”


“We were sitting side by side, with our legs swinging on the wall of the tower, and the Clouds™ were all turning pink in front of us. We could see all these miles of filet mignon from where we were sitting, and some places where the genetic coding had gone wrong and there, in the middle of the beef, the tissue had formed a horn or an eye or a heart blinking up at the sunset, which was this brag red, and which hit on all these miles of muscle and made it flex and quiver, with all these shudders running across the top of it, and birds were flying over, crying kind of sad, maybe looking for garbage, and the whole thing, with the beef and the birds and the sky, it glowed like there was a light inside it, which it was time to show us now.”


“It smelled like the country. It was a filet mignon farm, all of it, and the tissue spread for miles around the paths where we were walking. It was like these huge hedges of red all around us, with these beautiful marble patterns running through them. They had these tubes, they were bringing the tissue blood, and we would see all the blood running around, up and down. It was really interesting. I like to see how things are made, and to understand where they come from.”


“We were as strangers, in the moment-as intimate as strangers-for strangers know more of us, and can judge of us more without reproach than ever those we love.”


“Jasper!’ said Katie. ‘Your machine was supposed to be making duplicate copies of all of the things that were photocopied during the week!’ Yes indeed. And so it did.’ He flung open a panel. ‘All ingeniously copied and transcribed onto one convenient wax roll, quite easily carried between the three of us.’ He hefted one end of the wax roll; it was as big as a carpet. ‘Come along. It’s a mere two hundred and twenty pounds. Try to keep one hand free for making fists. We may have to bash our way out of here.”


“Keep thinking. You can hear our brains rattling around inside us, like the littler Russian dolls.”