Faithfully the gunner typed the script;
now pale, and touched the crucifix she wore.
Stumpy's mouth drooped,
waiting to catch flies.
They could have sworn the blue had ruffled
in its bed,
Somehow uncomfortable, though nothing seemed to move --
More a prickle on the skin,
Then pop! A bulbous nose, baby pink,
peeked out and twitched.
Two pairs of stubby fingers tore a ragged hole,
The electron veil
shivered with its hurt,
And in the void behind its mask were eyes,
Quizzical, impatient, old and bright, pale blue with flecks of
Three faces crowded round the screen recoiled
the gaze of what they'd summoned,
Until the Warrior, gathering
his wits, hit a question key.
.. to be continued
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