Heroic. You’re still awake.
I can’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep.
I had a splendid night of sleep last night. After a splendid day of study.
Don’t lie.
What intelligence did you gather on your romantic walk, Shiva?
Explaining.
Mother … maybe Mother’s the clue. The campus AI. Like the one in Alphaville. You turned Mother philosophical. That was a genius move. You struck a great blow against the enemy.
Mother repaired herself.
Sure she did. But the campus is cracked …
You hit them with a literaro-philosophical bomb! With the most profound question!
They’ll just go round scratching their heads. Wandering what had happened. Why they felt so existential.
And we’re really meeting the others? God, I can’t stand it when they’re hungover.
It’s an emergency meeting. We have to decide what to do.
Do about what?
The Organisational Management move, of course.
Can’t you just accept it.
We’re not supposed to just accept it. Even Cicero wouldn’t want us to accept it.
Fuck Cicero. I thought you’d decided it was all part of Cicero’s masterplan. That’s what you were telling me on the ferry.
It’s complicated.
Sure it’s complicated. Everything’s complicated. I think there’s a way to beat it. Last night … Mother …
You’re gabbling. You should get some sleep. You’re addled by romance. Romance can be positively deranging. And romance with a bot.
She wasn’t a bot.
She was an Organisational Management manufactured synth – clearly. She was Anna Karina from Alphaville.
A giant crack has appeared in the campus. Did you hear about that?
It’s the bore. It’s fracking.
Something’s going on.
Something’s always going on.
It’s geological. It’s philosophical. It’s geophilosophical.
You’re delirious.
Of course I am. It’s proof … that thought can have efficacy. Of guerrilla attack …
The crack? You really think that was your doing? You’re mad. Of course you’re mad. It’s not even an interesting madness, that’s the problem … Meanwhile, have been doing real work.
We thought the campus was impregnable, but really …
Okay, Luke Skywalker. Calm right down. What did you take last night?
You were always the chosen one.
No, you were the chosen one. Cicero had her highest hopes for you. It was your literary turn. That’s what interested her. Trust me, I knew her better than you.
Does Priya actually exist? Did you look her up on the website.
She’s real. She’s human …
You’re infatuated. How tedious.
Were you ever infatuated? Were you infatuated with Cicero?
What kind of people are we, Shiva? Where are we headed? What’s happening? What’s going on? Is there any rhyme or reason in this crazy world?
You fucked up Mother. You hit ‘em where they were weak. It was some kind of genius move, Shiva. You sensed their weakness, and then …
I just hung out with a hottie.
Sure you did. The manager’s wife. Or some AI creation. Some hologram beamed out by Mother.
She wasn’t a hologram, believe me.
Some android, then.
I don’t believe she was an android.
Perfectly modelled to tempt a philosopher called Shiva. To turn his head. To send him gaga. I’m not criticizing. I’d be seduced too, believe me. I could do with some seduction. Life’s getting very boring. But you turned it around, Shiva. You educed her. Then you fucked up Mother. You turned their weapons upon them.
There’s a crack running right through it, that’s what I heard. From one end of it to another.
Just some geological thing. An earthquake, or something.
Newcastle really isn’t on a faultline. That’s the most unlikely thing of all.
It’s probably caused by all their drilling. They’ve sent that bore down, haven’t they?
I think it was you and your profound questions. Your philosophico-literary questions. Or your literaro-philosophy ones. See, I knew reading all that Blanchot was good for something.
And the weather seems to have changed, have you noticed. It’s getting positively springlike … you’ve broken the spell, Shiva. These are happy times, you see. You’ve got them on the run. They’re full of hubris, thinking they could just absorb philosophy. But their campus is cracked. They're panicked.
Work in Progress 