Frost covered the floor and the rows of hanging carcasses on their backwards journey through time. It also covered a Detritus-shapedwith numbers. Equations as complex as a neural network had been scraped in the frost. At some point in the calculation the mathematician had changed from using numbers to using letters, and then letters themselves hadn't been sufficient; brackets like cages enclosed expressions which were to normal mathematics what a city is to a map.
They got simpler as the goal neared – simpler, yet containing in the flowing lines of their simplicity a spartan and wonderful complexity. lump squatting in the middle of the floor.They carried it out into the sunlight.'Should his eyes be flashing on and off like that?' said Dibbler.'Can you hear me?' shouted Cuddy. 'Detritus?'Detritus blinked. Ice slid off him in the day's heat.He could feel the cracking up of the marvellous universe of numbers. The rising temperature hit his thoughts like a flamethrower caressing a snowflake.'Say something!' said Cuddy.Towers of intellect collapsed as the fire roared through Detritus' brain.'Hey, look at this,' said one of the apprentices.The inner walls of the warehouse were covered
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