Form and Function

He invents the most marvelous machines. They have gears and levers and buttons, some in vast profusion, others in ascetic simplicity. When he turns them on, lights flash and bells ring. Sometimes there are flames, smoke, or puffs of steam. Other times, there are marbles and dominoes that tumble and clash in complex, interwoven forms, setting themselves up for the next run even as they fall. In the end, however, each machine he makes does the same thing: it reaches up and turns itself off.

He appears confused if questioned. He says, "That's what all machines do, in the end."

As Well Call a Physician a Taxidermist

Dokie's car rumbled tussively and lapsed into silence.

"You need to take it to the vet," Rovin said.

"You mean the mechanic?"

"No." Rovin glanced from side to side. "Look, I know a guy. He's the best you'll ever find, but if you call him a mechanic, he won't work for you at all."

Dokie turned the key again, and the car reluctantly caught. "Crazy people aren't generally good at fixing cars."

"Well, that's the thing. Humans go to human doctors, but we take our animals to the vet. TS-197 is to simpler machines as we are to our pets."