text: [Themes: Surreal, fantasy, philosophy]
  
  > Look around
  You're standing at the entrance to a vast maze built of hedges that tower six feet above you. The path seems extravagantly narrow, as if the designer wanted to prepare the unwary adventurer from the outside. Above the entrance is a painted wooden sign. It looks important.
  
  > go south
  You step tentatively into the maze, looking askance at the lump of lead. Approaching a moral dilemma, it starts whirring wildly, and glowing cracks in the cube appear. It begins to unfold into an astonishingly complex device -- an array of dishes and balances, with an arrow mounted on top. With little else to do you follow the arrow past the dilemma. And then past the next -- and the next. Moral dilemmas seem not to be dilemmas at all before its power, and soon you emerge from the maze, breathless, at the foot of the crag that looms over this land.
  
  A winding path leads up the side of the crag, and you follow it, huffing and puffing, until you reach the top. Here, looming dangerously atop the already looming crag, sits a gigantic loom. No, a gigantic castle -- you were confused for a minute there. Behind you, this crazy world stretches out below. You take a deep breath. You feel, somehow, that you are near your goal -- whatever that may be..
  
  You are in a paved courtyard before the castle. Here, true to form, an ivory tower towers above you, the result of a billion poaching expeditions or more. Similarly true, a guard guards the broad stairs leading up to the tower.
  
  Below you is the vertiginous path down the side of the crag -- and below that stretches the world. The strangest thing of all, however, is the faint and ominous organ music on the periphery of your hearing.
  
  > 2
  "Really?" she asks.
  
  "No!" you quickly reply, "I was only joking."
  
  "Well, if it's all the same to you," she says, "I'm just going to stand here until I've got things figured out for myself."
  
  > 7
  "That would certainly explain the suit of armour," she says, a little perturbed, "but if it's all the same to you I'm just going to stand here until I've got my head straight."
  
  > examine the leftmost dial
  A minus sign is etched above the dial to the left, and a plus sign to the right. It's currently turned to the right.
  
  > look at the middle dial
  There's a scale etched around the dial, with an M with a line above it at one end. Leading clockwise up to that are various other letters, with no pattern to them as far as you can see. The dial's currently at the far anti-clockwise end of the scale.
  
  > turn the middle dial clockwise
  The dial seems rather stiff. With an effort you can get it to snap further along the scale so that it points at an L, but it budges no further for now.
  
  > turn the middle dial clockwise
  You give the middle dial an extra twist and force it to the far end of the scale, pointing somewhere near the final M.
  
  > look at the chrome dials
  The three dials are highly polished and highly mysterious. They could affect space-time co-ordinates or they could regulate the air conditioning. Each seems to serve a different function: the leftmost is a two-way switch, the middle one seems to be able to be set to a wide range of possible points, and the rightmost looks like some kind of timer.
  
  > turn the middle dial clockwise
  It's already turned as far as it will go.
  
  > turn the dial minus
  Which do you mean, the leftmost dial, the middle dial or the rightmost dial?
  
  > turn the leftmost dial anticlockwise
  Just try turning it instead.
  
  > turn leftmost dial
  You flick the dial to point at the minus sign.
  
  > Exit
  You get out of the Time Machine.
  
  This chamber is exactly like the one below it but for two minor details: firstly, the atmospheric organ music is ever so slightly louder; secondly, the machine in the centre of the room is both not made of bees and clearly a time machine. The clue is in the words "Time Machine" engraved on its casing.
  
  > turn the right dial
  You turn the rightmost dial clockwise and release it -- with a ticking noise it begins to turn itself back the other way. When it reaches its starting point there is a sharp ringing noise and --
  
  You sit back as the time machine hums and whistles into life. The brass railing starts to shiver and shake and somewhere in the depths of the engine something goes "meow" in a fuzzy sort of way and a bright light washes over the booth. The day turns to night and then to day and back at ever-increasing speeds. After about eighteen thousand, two hundred and fifty flashes you arrive in the past.
  
  Around you appears to be a night-darkened museum exhibition. A clock on the wall, its hands simulacra of keys, indicates the time (or perhaps the simulacrum of time) to be  9:58. Given that the time machine doesn't seem to move spatially, the Ivory Tower must have been the International House of Keys some fifty years previously, or so the banner on the wall suggests.
  
  In the centre of the exhibition is a case displaying a key loaned by the H.G. Wells Reenactment Society. It has the number "2" engraved on it. With your axe to hand, you smash the case and grab the key.
  
  Immediately a heinous wailing fills the room, and lights flash in burning red -- the alarms have been set off! A security guard rushes in and rugby-tackles you. In defense you lash out with the axe, and to your horror the guard's head separates from his shoulders in a graceful arc of blood. The severed head, carried forward by its own momentum, smacks you in the chops -- and your horror is compounded by the fact that you immediately recognise -- though younger than you knew him -- your own grandfather.
  
  You barely have time to contemplate the fact that you have successfully broken the entire universe before you wink out of existence, along with the rest of all creation.
  
  > drop the axe
  (first taking the axe from the sack)
  (putting the newspaper into the sack to make room)
  Dropped.
  
  > turn the right dial
  You turn the rightmost dial clockwise and release it -- with a ticking noise it begins to turn itself back the other way. When it reaches its starting point there is a sharp ringing noise and --
  
  You sit back as the time machine hums and whistles into life. The brass railing starts to shiver and shake and somewhere in the depths of the engine something goes "meow" in a fuzzy sort of way and a bright light washes over the booth. The day turns to night and then to day and back at ever-increasing speeds. After about eighteen thousand, two hundred and fifty flashes you arrive in the past.
  
  Around you appears to be a night-darkened museum exhibition. A clock on the wall, its hands simulacra of keys, indicates the time (or perhaps the simulacrum of time) to be  9:58. Given that the time machine doesn't seem to move spatially, the Ivory Tower must have been the International House of Keys some fifty years previously, or so the banner on the wall suggests.
  
  In the centre of the exhibition is a case displaying a key loaned by the H.G. Wells Reenactment Society. It has the number "2" engraved on it. You grab the nearest thing to hand -- a huge replica padlock -- and with it smash the display the case, grabbing the key.
  
  Immediately a heinous wailing fills the room, and lights flash in burning red -- the alarms have been set off! A security guard rushes in and rugby-tackles you. Quickly you lash out with the novelty padlock, knocking the guard unconscious. Casting the padlock from you, you hop into the booth and set the dials to the present day.
  
  Safely back in the second chamber, you clamber out of the Time Machine and give it a quick kick.
  
  > get the axe
  (putting the second key into the sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  > examine Machine
  As with the Time Machine, this device has its name engraved on the casing in a large copperplate font -- "Turing Machine", it says. Again similarly, there's some kind of booth in the machine, complete with fake red leather seat. This booth lacks the steampunk wizardry of the Time Machine -- there's simply a glowing screen with a keyboard in front of it.
  
  > think about Turing
  Alan Turing (1912 - 1954) was an English mathematician and logician (and also, importantly, a cryptographer whose work on the Enigma machine in WWII proved essential) whose lasting legacy is in computer science and artificial intelligence. Turing's ideas on the functionality of computers are still central today, while his theories and tests for artificial intelligence are widely influential.
  
  > get in the booth
  You get into the machine and sit on the seat. The computer screen in front of you is displaying the word "Hello!" in garish green type, inviting a response.
  
  > look at screen
  The computer screen is displaying a message in bright green letters. "Hello!" it says. There's a little > symbol beneath that.
  
  > type hello
  The screen goes blank for a moment, and then another message appears: "That's what you think passes for a human-sounding response, is it? Hmm. What's your name, anyway?"
  
  > type hello
  The screen goes blank again and, sure enough, another message flashes up: "Oh, really? Well, if you say so. And what are you doing here? You know, what's your quest, sort of thing?"
  
  > Type truth
  The screen now says: "If it weren't so demeaning, I'd write "lol". But it is, so I shan't. Right. Last question: What's the fiftieth digit after the decimal place of pi?"
  
  > Type 3
  There's a very long wait before the screen responds. Eventually, it displays a final message: "Oh, alright. That's a fairly human response, I suppose. You pass. Have a key." As you finish reading this, there's a swish electronic noise, a hitherto-unseen panel opens up, and a key falls onto the floor. You pick it up, as the panel closes into invisibility again, and the screen winks out.
  
  > unlock door
  What do you want to unlock the thirddoor with?
  
  > Third
  (the third key)
  You unlock the door and open it, trembling with trepidation. Through the door lies another ivory staircase -- a spiral staircase which winds upwards towards another chamber.
  
  The organ playing is deafening here. It's echoing around the curved ivory walls, its descending scales and dark figures amplified and multiplying, a dense wall of foreboding music. The doorway and stairs behind you seem terribly inviting -- if you had any excuse to leave her, any unfinished business, you would scamper downstairs now. Otherwise -- another door lies on the other side of the chamber.
  
  But there is another machine between you and that door. And looking in that machine, you almost flee straight away: sitting on the red fake leather seat, wearing a peculiar helmet, is a grinning skeleton.
  
  > look at helmet
  A large metal helmet, with a vizor and ear-plugs, attached to the casing of the machine by a long rubber cord.
  
  > examine the skeleton
  The yellowed and wasted skeleton is grinning broadly -- or perhaps that's just the effect of your skin dissolving into dust and your clothes into rotted rags about you. It's slumped in the machine, wearing a large metal helmet which covers most of its skull -- a vizor over its eye sockets, plugs in its ear holes, even a cord leading into its mouth -- leaving exposed only that awful, leering smile.
  
  The skeleton also seems to be clutching a peculiar hat in its bony hand.
  
  > get the hat
  Better leave it -- it's all there is to identify the poor adventurer by.
  
  > examine the hat
  It looks like the kind of cap worn by the nomads of Afghanisan to you. Presumably the skeleton -- when it was still an adventurer -- removed it to put on the helmet.
  
  > look at Machine
  As with the previous machines, there's an engraving -- "Experience Machine" -- and a fake red leather seat. The only visible electronics, however, is a strange sort of headset, currently being worn by a rather happy-looking skeleton.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a third key
  a second key
  a lit lantern (providing light)
  a sack (open)
  an axe
  a newspaper
  a first key
  a wooden box (closed)
  a bunch of keys
  a Chinese key
  a lighter
  a qualiascope
  a manual
  file of Platonic forms
  a useless scrap of paper
  a Categorical Imperativator
  
  > Wear helmet
  (first taking the large metal helmet)
  You pick up the helmet -- it's heavier than it looks -- and settle it on your head. You adjust the vixor and ear-plugs and, feeling a little awkward, put the little wired tab in your mouth. You wait expectantly for a moment, and then your ears are filled with the most beautiful voice you have ever heard. "Welcome," it says, in tones so perfect you could almost weep.
  
  And then, suddenly, your every sense and emotion is awash with feeling. Joyous, exquisite pleasure -- your every desire feels fulfilled, your every need met. Your are euphoric, overcome.
  
  The joy continues, and continues, and continues.
  
  Forever.
  
  > get the thing
  (putting the second key into the sack to make room)
  You've got your hands a bit full. You're going to have to find a sack or something if you want to carry any more.
  
  > Wear helmet
  (first taking the large metal helmet)
  You pick up the helmet -- it's heavier than it looks -- and settle it on your head. You adjust the vixor and ear-plugs and, feeling a little awkward, put the little wired tab in your mouth. You wait expectantly for a moment, and then your ears are filled with the most beautiful voice you have ever heard. "Welcome," it says, in tones so perfect you could almost weep.
  
  And then, suddenly, your every sense and emotion is awash with feeling. Joyous, exquisite pleasure -- your every desire feels fulfilled, your every need met. Your are euphoric, overcome.
  
  The joy continues, and continues, and continues.
  
  Forever.
  
  > take the thing
  (putting the third key into the sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  > put the thing in Machine
  You put the thing into the Experience Machine.
  
  > look at the dials
  Terrifyingly complicated; you'd rather not touch them.
  
  > look at Machine
  As with the previous machines, there's an engraving -- "Experience Machine" -- and a fake red leather seat. The only visible electronics, however, is a strange sort of headset, currently being worn by a rather happy-looking skeleton.
  
  > get the skeleton
  As you touch the skeleton, it slumps awkwardly out of the Machine and collapses, amid a cloud of choking dust, into a pile of bones on the floor of the chamber, clattering hollowly on the ivory. The headset swings down and bounces folornly on the end of its cord. There's an awkward silence.
  
  "Sorry about that," you say.
  
  > look at the headset
  A large metal helmet, with a vizor and ear-plugs, attached to the casing of the machine by a long rubber cord.
  
  > wear the earplugs
  (first taking the large metal helmet)
  You pick up the helmet -- it's heavier than it looks -- and settle it on your head. You adjust the vixor and ear-plugs and, feeling a little awkward, put the little wired tab in your mouth. You wait expectantly for a moment, and then your ears are filled with the most beautiful voice you have ever heard. "Welcome," it says, in tones so perfect you could almost weep.
  
  And then, suddenly, your every sense and emotion is awash with feeling. Joyous, exquisite pleasure -- your every desire feels fulfilled, your every need met. Your are euphoric, overcome.
  
  The joy continues, and continues, and continues.
  
  Forever.
  
  > look
  The organ playing is deafening here. It's echoing around the curved ivory walls, its descending scales and dark figures amplified and multiplying, a dense wall of foreboding music. The doorway and stairs behind you seem terribly inviting -- if you had any excuse to leave her, any unfinished business, you would scamper downstairs now. Otherwise -- another door lies on the other side of the chamber.
  
  But there is another machine between you and that door, with a sorry looking pile of bones beside it.