[Bullet Magnet]

The desert is reddish sand and stone. It feels very much like Mars, but it's warm and it seems like something can, or has been, living here. The air is thick and breathable, and I have the feeling that there are elaborate canyons beyond the horizon. The sand is not deep, it's spread thin over stone and earth. There are some interesting outcroppings nearby, and a crevasse. The sky is burned red-orange, perhaps dust particles illuminated by the sun, yet bright blue stars are visible in the sky, and the sweep of the galaxy.

The cube is a complicated machine. Some sort of brown-beige metal that I cannot identify. The edges are marked by complex and arcane symbols I cannot make sense of, the faces are dominated by great rings that bear the same markings. I can see gaps between the facets that comprise each face, there's some machinery inside. All mechanical, cogs and gears so far as I can see, but the whole Cube seems capable of much more than mere mechanics can achieve. It's taller than I am, perhaps four metres by four metres, and it hums with life. I see movement inside.

The ladder is made of the same material as the Cube. It leans against it, providing access to the topmost face, for whatever reason. The ladder seems similarly complex, the same symbols etched wherever feet are not expected to mar them I have no idea why someone would make a ladder like this. Perhaps they just really like ladders. And the Cube.

A horse stands off to one side. Oh my. The horse has too many legs. I'm not sure how many exactly, perhaps seven or eight. They don't all bend the right way, and the hooves are pointed like claws. This thing doesn't scuttles as much as it canters. It is perfectly black in colour. Where it's eyes should be is just black-furred skin, but there are several shiny black eyes in other places. Two small ones are close together on the top of the head, two more pairs spaced down the snout, and one on each cheek. The ears are unusually long, and very long whiskers point out at odd angles from various places. The lips are fused into the teeth like some horny shears. Weird as it looks, the whole thing radiates "horse" and it is beautiful to me.

Something whirrs and clicks in the Cube, before all the rings rotate a notch and a great thump throws up a cloud of dust. In this moment the earth cracks and flowers sprout up, as though radiating from the Cube. The wave of foliage continues into the distance, but strangely the ground near the Cube remains barren. The horse starts, then settles down and begins eating the flowers. They range from orange to red, rather like the formerly barren landscape, but stand out from the green of the leaves. They are three-dimensional, by which I mean each one has multiple directions for an insect to approach, land, and pollinate, the flower itself a strangely ordered mess of twisted petals, extended stamen, and fluffy anthers poking out this way and that. Some of the plants are thorny, their stems and leaves dark purple, their flowers green with red veins. The horse mostly leaves them alone, but eats the flowers. The insects that appear from nowhere seem robust, you couldn't swat them. I suspect their shells are made from the same material as the cube. They are sharp and pointy, but make no motion to threaten me or the horse.

The storm is clearly a dust storm. A great wall of sand in the distance, kilometres high, roiling and churning. Lighting flashes and forks within it, though it is currently too distant for the thunder to be heard. Most of the lightning is blue, but some of it is red. The horse looks up at the flashes and watches it placidly, chewing on one of the thorny green flowers, before returning its attention to the foliage. As the storm approaches, the ground begins to rumble. So does the Cube, though I soon realise that the cube is now rumbling all on its own. The ladder slides off the Cube and hits the ground with a clatter, disturbing the horse again, who watches the Cube with me. The clickety-clack of machinery sounds from inside again, the symbols glow brightly and blue as the rings begin to turn as much as the cogs within do. I can hear the thunder now, the wall of the storm terrifying close, I can see the ground and the flowers being torn up by it. But the wall curls, leaving a couple hundred metres clearance around the Cube. It curls until it meets on the other side, leaving a great vertical cylinder of clear air, an artificial Eye. A couple of stars twinkle in the tiny patch of visible sky, which is they swallowed up as the walls close into a ceiling. It's very windy, the insects go to ground, and the lighting flashes all around. The horse doesn't like it. I touch its neck and gently lead it toward the Cube. I sit down against a non-moving edge, and the horse lays down next to me. A long, prehensile tongue snakes out and caresses my cheek. I accept this new trait, merely glad that there is no fanged maw snapping at the end of it. I don't know how long we'll have to wait here. I don't know how long the storm will last or how long the Cube's protection will hold. I consider examining the crevasse for a fail-safe shelter, but I don't know if it will hold back the wind or channel it even faster.

I stroke the horse. We will wait.