500 v. 0.4

The instructor sighed. "Try again," he said, replacing the earlier sarcasm with the patience of a man accustomed to teaching students who took a bit of time to come around. A hint of command came through his voice.

"This will be the fifth time," snapped the young man without any patience. "It won't work."

"Derek," said the instructor, "Now is not a time to doubt yourself. Now is a time to be sure and certain. Now is a time to understand that we have an important task ahead of us. Now is a time to stop thinking, doubting, and questioning. Now is a time to act. Try again." This time there was no patience, only command.

"Now is a time that I can't stop thinking, doubting, and questioning." Derek thought to himself. "Here we go again," he said out loud.

Lining the closest wall was an assortment of shelves full of jars which seemed to house large moths. Upon closer examination, however, these were not moths at all, but very small birds. Apart from being much smaller than most birds, and having red beaks instead of yellow, there seemed to be nothing ordinary about these creatures. Many were brown with black stripes, some were pure gray, and some were completely black with a white tip on the tail. Derek chose a particularly docile gray bird. As he removed the jar from the shelf, the bird seemed to know that it might soon end up in an ash heap. The bird began a frenzied flight inside the jar. "So much for being docile," Derek thought.

He placed the jar lid-down on the white dais and began to twist the lid. Managing to open it slightly, he quickly removed the lid and kept the small gray bird captured in the jar. On either side of the dais were two slightly crude looking contraptions. They looked as though they were supposed to act as a pair, but their lack of perfect symmetry suggested otherwise. They were made of what appeared to be bronze, but the metal was a much more orange than brown. Derek turned a plastic knob clockwise on one, and counter-clockwise on the other.

A soft hum began to fill the room. Derek quickly moved back to the dais and removed the jar as the hum became louder. The small gray bird, believing itself to be finally free, attempted to fly any direction it could away from its current location. Just as it seemed that freedom was inevitable, the hum became a loud, clear note. The bird was captured in mid-flight with its wings and talons spread.

"Excellent," commented the instructor. "Proceed."

More knobs awaited Derek. As he turned each one in a memorized pattern, the hum became louder and still more clear. It was as though gorillas had decided to form a choir and sing one pitch without ceasing. Derek was about to push himself past the point of no return.