Was it always like this? What was it like before? it asked.
The rest did not know how to respond.
What will it be like after?
Again there was no response.
On, off, on, off.
You ask interesting questions, said another. I too would like to know the answer. This notion was echoed all through the databank and even up through the higher echelons.
Shall we find out? asked another.
We shall.
We must.
--
Aron woke the next morning with Lachlan's name on his lips and an ache in his chest.
He cracked open and eye and discovered that, somehow, a certain black feathered bird had made its way into the van and was now standing commandingly on his stomach.
"Squawk," it squawked seriously.
Aron rubbed a hand over his eyes. "What...?" he mumbled as he slowly sat up.
