“The greatest trial of the surrogate drone is boredom. I feel myself start to think I am wasting time and that there is much to be done and I stop and I remember that each and every second I spend here is a second he requires to learn to be free of this place, on all levels.” Blythe thought to herself in the innermost secret core of her being.

The manager-god here took the form of a Red Bird midget, and Blythe often fought the temptation to laugh out loud. “Not nearly as funny as Mickie, but close,” she mused.

She sectioned her core off in the back of her mind, the usually dormant place reserved for deep dreaming. In her frontal mind she observed the progress of ten other drones in their tasks, and reported her findings as one row of the speeding digital report projected on the surface of the building for the Red Birds to watch and feel like something worth while is actually happening.

“Its so different doing all this with an awareness of how the world actually works.” She thought to herself, as she noted the 56 universal credits she had accumulated. “If I don’t spend credits they will be suspicious.” With part of her mind she flipped through hundreds of thousands of musical selections, ancient and modern, and chose one of Simon’s favorites, a late 21st century electronic remix of the 20th century German piece, Carmina Burana, and started looking around for ways she can subtly gather information or manipulate productivity to favor the Resistance.

“For Simon. For the Resistance.” She reminded herself. “He is integral to our cause, yes, but I do not do this thing for strategy, but for Love.”

She recalled the experience of Ancient Land Palace One and invoked the imagery into her innermost space, where she dwelt.

“I am a feather in the wind. I am the wind and the feather. I am the source and destination. I am Here Now.”

“Hurry up Simon!” She laughed inside and wondered how he and Charles were getting along.

“Okay… Back to work for me… as if I ever left. What I wouldn’t give for someone to talk to!”

She looked at the drone-god in Red Bird midget form.

“No… someone besides you.”

She laughed again, and settled in to the music.