He stood on the observation platform, staring out the ever-rotating transparent panels as the machine carved its way through the sea, the machinery below them chittering away as it processed what it took from the waters below.
By the time they returned this way, the still black paths left behind the orb would be gone, swallowed up once more by the sparkle and stone.
Ahead, to the left and right, two more orbs, carving parallel paths.
He did not ponder the existence of the machines. Generations were born, lived, and died, as the orbs wended their eternal paths across the infinite sea.
