Crouching next to the dead body for a closer look, the robot remarked “This is an old body. Several years since this particular antenna design was last used. And there’s no obvious signs of damage.”
I surveyed the scene. “Why is there even a dead body here? How could this happen?”
The other robot replied “This is an exceedingly rare event. And the environment hints at potentially anomalous circumstances.”
I looked into the gloom farther down the tunnel, suddenly wanting to be outside in the light.
Analog interface drift. I was told that with each analog/manual interface, a small amount of drift or irregularity is introduced. This is a favorable outcome that heightens the appreciation of the music experience.
Just as all “big things” happen, there was no preface, no hints, at what perception-altering event lay ahead. One moment the dry, dusty emptiness of the tunnel system, and then, in a shallow alcove, evidence of an entirely unknown facet of the robots’ existence. The edge of the map had been unfolded to reveal a terrible landscape.