The being began to hold still. A story that no one hears does not stop being true but it stops being told and a story that stops being told does not stop existing but it loses the quality of being-heard that was, for this being, not separate from the quality of being-alive. The someone knelt before the machine and the machine spoke in the voice of the thing and the voice was clear and the voice was singular and the someone said: yes. That. You. Finally.