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When: Day 6
Who: ?


Far below the great City of the Krell, the Thought Projector hummed, making power, storing power, maintaining itself, as it had done for millenia beyond counting, as it had done since the wise, and peaceful Krell had created it, and set it running. It did not think, had no sentience, not even as much as the limited Artificial Intelligence of the houses, the repair robots. Its only directives were to make power, and manifest thought - a sentience of its own would have been counter-productive. Would have interfered with the pure detection of sentient life - originally the Krell - and their wants, their directed desires.

It had only operated at full capacity for a little more than one full roation on the plaent's axis, before the Krell who had made it were abruptly, and violently no more. It was during that time that the Reclamation Machine had been, incompletely, created. Noble intentions - the hallmark of the mighty Krell - yet interrupted by a chaos inimaginable.

The Reclamation Machine was functioning now. Not fully. A bare, infintesimal fraction of its capacity had been completed in the millenium, by faithful Fabricators who did not have enough sentience to use the Thought Projector. All they could do was follow the plan, and the plan was incomplete. But they had done, and continued to do, what they could.

And, with the presence of sentient life returning to the planet, the Thought Machine was ready.

Of course, the sentience was very low on the Krell scale. Barely that of idiots, or children. It lacked the focus and discipline of the Krell. Weak minds... ironic that some of them were among the strongest in current existence within their own worlds. But the collective want of them had brought the Thought Machine into action, though only a flicker. The collective want of those few, weak minds, to communicate.

A flicker of the Thought Machine's unimginable capabilites stirred a ripple within itself. Just a ripple. Nothing more.

The great Machine's unexpected flaw was not activated by so small a ripple. Not the first one. Perhaps not the next. It would take more.

The Id still slept. For now.

Waiting.

When: evening of day 6? or possibly day 7
Who: Milan, maybe Gerald, open
Warnings: none yet


( he decided to seek out the one whom he had a chance of tracking down )