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Yet these machines of Glass and Sand were truly primitive, for they were formed of delicate gates and junctions, tired easily and overheated, catching fire unless cooled with Water.
Now the Spider Witch Ananse had heard of a Pure Land, a mythical Divine Land named Taruan, or Tarwan-Nhura, sometimes called the Realm Of Eastern Peace, Tangleng Ongkok, far away across the Astral Sea.
The Witch Queen knew of a strange rite, for the old gods were rumoured to listen to those who sang deep in the Astral Sea, near the shores of Tarwan. Just as you can hear the call of the Sea and her echoes, if you place a seashell to your ear - the gods were said to have sunken chimes deep into the astral span of Tarwan and the sea of stars, to hear the song of the dragon, the lament and call of sea-serpents and leviathans of the bottomless Deep.
In this the Witch-Queen Ananse saw the makings of a great rite, a great evocation of sorcery. She would make the gods hear the call of Nacirema at last - by turning their sea chimes into one Great Machine, using the waters of the Astral Sea herself to cool and calm their rebellious fires. This Machine would never tire; never succumb to fatigue or famine, never doubt the truth or worth of the Near War. A Machine that would never feel pity, remorse or fear, a Machine that would never stop.
