Five.. Four... Three.. Two... ONE!

You mainly know other men.

They might be family, or people you work with. If it's you family then they may jam computer knowledge into your brain, send to to live alone outside the earth, or insist you refer to them by rank.

If its work, they may have seen you die multiple times, you may have seen them die. You may have sent them to die. You may be in space, you may be sent to space, you may fear the things that come from space.

You cannot grasp soft objects but you can hold the controls of your incredible vessel.

You may have only one vehicle. If you do, it is the greatest piece of technology ever devised. It can do anything. The faster it goes the more powerful it becomes. There is no danger it cannot outrace. Within the machine you fear nothing. You are an arrow in the heart of despair.

You may have many vehicles. They are all special, but if there is no primary machine that means you yourself are special. The machine is inside you now. You died and were remade by alien machines, your father has reprogrammed your mind, you posses a shrinking device.

There is an organisation. The power of this organisation is represented directly by the kinetic movement of its headquarters. Its headquarters is vast, shining and futuristic. It may fly, sink, rotate or reveal itself strangely. There may be no apparent reason for this.

You are a member of this organisation. It's heraldry is bright and strong. It it may seem fascist. It will protect everyone. Its origins are unknown. Its purpose is absolute. It stands between life and death for millions with its shining machines. it is a bright secret in the air, behind the mechanical trees, beneath the volcano, under the sea.

Wherever your bright colours go, the weak will know hope and the evil will know fear. They will always be defeated.

If you know women, they may be your housekeeper, mute, or fly fighter jets. You may also know a robot, a pet, a child or an amusing alien.

You will be injected into your shining vessel. The architecture of your home is a secret machine that will deliver you there. You cannot smile or kiss.

Time is running out but you are counting down. Every moment of your life is immanence. You are the arrow at the moment if its release. You are the bullet as it ignites. You are the rocket venting steam, shaking ice from its flanks like a beast as it rises into the air. You are the moment before the moment, always and forever.

The world is in danger. There are things that hate the world. There is chaos under its skin. You will oppose the danger and you will overwhelm it. You rarely kill. You cannot run. You will outwit the danger and confound it. you will unravel its mystery and neuter it. You will outrace death itself and confound those who feed on death.

The plane will fall from the sky and you shall catch it in mid-fall with your shining machine. Then, you too will disappear.

You are born in the teeth of the great depression. Your grandfathers name is Bieloglovski. You will see the city around you burn before you die. You will be told you cannot go into space. You will join the RAF and be told you cannot fly. You will be told the future is beyond your reach. You come to manhood with a ration card, in a bombsite in a burned-out, proud and dying empire. You will overwhelm the present with the future. You will summon it to you with the strength of your dream. inside the still, grey world you will build a bright reality of motion and speed. You will rescue everyone.

* The Gull wings never work. A crew member must hold open the doors.

**No reason is ever given for this.