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it. "Join me. We shall become one." The man walked to the hidden switch he had found the day before. The wind had exposed more of the machine, but it still sat, unchanged. Tanned, bone-like fingers reached out toward the small metal knob that jutted from the steel, and pushed it.
There was an audible clunk as parts unused for centuries tried to live once again, then nothing. He walked back into the shade and sat down with his legs crossed. He raised both palms and pressed them to the machine. The infusion was different somehow this time. The man did not flinch. His eyes rolled back to the whites, and he hung there transfixed like a yogi deep in meditation. "Join me. We shall become one." The man's hands grew warm against the cold, unyielding steel. "Do not be afraid. We shall become one." There was an overwhelming influx of feeling, a numbness of sensation and the man gasped and pulled his hands off the cold steel. He walked away from the machine and sat down. Day turned to night and the man sat and stared at the machine. He tried to avert his eyes from the bright steel, but could not. He was drawn to it. He could not leave now.

As the sun dipped below the horizon the man slowly made his way toward the machine. Inches at a time he was pulled toward the cold steel. By midnight, it had him. The moon was full in the night sky and the man sat down with his legs crossed; he raised both palms and pressed them to the machine. Again the infusion, again the consciousness. "Come, join me. Do not be afraid. We shall become one." The man welcomed the invitation.
This time was different. This time the man was not afraid. The moon was high in the night sky. He felt his hands grow warm against the cold, unyielding steel. He did not flinch. The cold, obstinate steel grew softer and warmer. There was a melding of flesh and metal. A paper-thin bond formed between them, connecting the two and it grew with each moment's passing. The man's hands began to sink in, first only a centimeter, but slowly the steel sucked at him. The man sat with his legs crossed, being absorbed by the machine. The machine sat unchanged in the sand, absorbing the man. The man sat in the sands of time, up to his forearms in infinite knowledge. His consciousness dove into the unbounded knowledge of the machine. He swam in the boundless data, and drenched himself in ageless facts.
Cold steel turned to life and reached out for the defenseless flesh of the man. The man sat with his legs crossed. The machine

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