The MachineMilo We're almost there! A new land, a new beginning. It will be perfect Milo, a new life, where we will be free to do what we want. Milo scraped the damp stones with his shoe, frowning at the mold growing in neat rows between the empty spaces. The light was dim, but in reality it was non-existent. Mr. Nemitz rambled on about Old Town and how the new town would be even better. "--and it was bright, yellow and gold, with the leaves trembling in the sunlight..." Mr. Nemitz sang with joy. Milo turned to hide his wide smile as more and more people joined in the chant. The elders loved singing “Where the Sun Once Shine.” He assumed the tone would be different if I actually saw the sun outside of a book or video. Or saw a book outside of a video. Mr. Nemitz had been humming the song to himself for nearly an hour. “Someone's having a great day,” Milo said, refraining from letting on how funny he actually found it. Masses of tired people crowded in on all sides, anticipating the imminent arrival. Mr. Nemitz put his arm around his shoulders and shook him briefly, laughing with joy. «We did it, Milo. We are there!” “We're still here,” Milo said. “We're not even on the platform yet.” Mr. Nemitz scratched his ear. “True, but we'll be up there soon,” he pointed to the upper deck, terribly high and apparently empty. The ramp they were climbing led to the central deck, the very center of the boat's massive hull. “We will be eaten by this monster and shit in Eden.” Monster was too nice a word to describe, Milo thought. The boat was even uglier up close. You could see it almost everywhere; it was taller than any building in the Old City. The news had arrived recently... in the middle of the paper... to the people. It hit him like a strong punch to the chest. The Machine poured its last vestiges of power into him. His mind suddenly opened, freeing him from all ties, both those of the system and those of the boys. The power pulsed around him, looking for a place to go. Milo landed on his feet in the middle of the losing battle. He concentrated on the battle and slammed his fists on the ground. The Machine's power expanded outward, touching every person and every prisoner. They were his in command, and he was in their command. The battle was over. Luna fell to the ground, the warm light of the Machine against her withering. module. She felt separated into her distinct parts. These were his arms, his legs, his organs. Its molecules buzzed, then ceased to exist. He melted into the light, into the peace of the Machine, and it was all over.