...For Science!

There was a time that I meant it, every shining-eyed word. The future was so bight that we'd all need triple-reinforced smoked-glass goggles (with attached breathing apparatus C-37). My head was full of gears and levers and steam valves, without room for fears or worries. How could I have foreseen the endless, pointless struggle? Every generation needs re-enlightenment, it seems.

I tug on my leather gloves. I heave my rocket-pack into place. I flip down my goggles.

"Did you think it would be easy?" Experiment 715Q asks from its aquarium.

I ignore it. "Today is a glorious day," I mutter...