The Geek Movement

Richard and his brother Roger were both Royal Society men, dedicated to the empirical arts to the point of obsession. Never ones to allow a small thing like personal discomfort stand between them and new knowledge, they had spent the last years of the century surveying regions where word of her majesty’s empire had never penetrated. It was in some heathen tin mining operation that Roger lost his life. A sluice gate gave way and washed a slurry of water, rocks, earth, and timber into the tunnel where he was taking measurements, caving in the ceiling and crushing him beyond all recognition. Stricken with grief, Richard had worked like a madman, excavating the cave-in that had claimed his brother. Using all the most modern techniques he smelted and purified what tin he was able to extract from the mass of rocks, earth, and blood. For a fortnight he labored, pouring his mourning into the perfect science that his brother had loved so well. When all was done, the scale he had wrought stood as a marker on Roger’s grave, perfect in its delicately balanced sensitivity. He stood in vigil for a full day and night, watching the needle, but it never moved – not even a micrometer. For the first time in his life, Richard was alone in the world.