One Head in the Kill Machine #
The chronicles of former times lie concealed - housed below, hidden in earth-halls. The king ordered it. He knew what words were worth. He showed his people the extent of their power, demonstrated how eternal life is book-bestowed. They were advanced enough to know about that. Other things they didn’t know - like what to do after the books were written. So they guessed, and put them underground. These were still not normal times. There were instances of people being smart, but it was sort of only by chance. The maze of tunnels sure was elaborate, though. It drove deep into the planet’s dirt-flesh. Like the flesh of men, it had to protect itself, with lava. Steam scalded those who held the spades. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” they said.