1000

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0111

You are the sum of all your parts. You have a bad mechanic.

0110

The stars seemed to shine brighter in the reflection on the chrome-plated 9mm than in the night sky itself. The irony was not lost on the assassin as he screwed the silencer onto the barrel, for there were dark deeds that lay ahead. Sloughing off the illusion, he continued with the plan he had devised. The mark was twenty meters ahead and soundly asleep in her bed inside the spacious Victorian. The assassin was sure of this because the soon-to-be recipient of his bullet was a creature of habit. She always arrived home from the law firm at 8pm, fixed herself a meal by 8:30, into the shower by 9:15, and finally turning in by 11:30. Now it was 12:42 and time to make a move. Quickly and quietly the assassin emerged from under the hedges bordering the well-manicured lawn of the sprawling estate. In a crouched run he covered the distance in seven seconds and was now at the french doors that led into the master suite. In a flash the glass cutting tool was put to task on one of the many panes in the door. The sound of the glass being sliced was almost imperceptable to the ear-a necessary function to be sure. Once the glass was removed it was easy to manipulate the deadbolt and gain access to his target. The bedroom was nearly pitch dark. The only hint of light came spilling in through the doorway from the half-filled moon above. The assassin didn't need much to work with anyway for he had spent the previous evening examining the layout to the bedroom while his mark was still at the office. In a matter of seconds he was over the bed and upon a split-second identification of her slumbering form he let off two rounds from his shiny gun into her chest followed by one to the forehead. Without missing a beat he was out the door, closing it behind him. Seven more seconds later the assassin was once again in the hedges and out of sight. As he was removing the silencer from his weapon he noticed something lying in the shadows on the ground before him. Picking up the item and bringing it into the moonlight the assassin noticed it was an envelope. What really took him by surprise besides the fact that an envelope was there in the first place was that the envelope had a name printed on it - his name. Puzzled, the assassin opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Printed on the paper was a curious message: "Mission accomplished. Apply pressure to right earlobe to end this exercise." Somehow this request seemed vaguely familiar to him. The assassin squeezed his right earlobe. Immediately the world around him seemed to melt away and he found himself crouching on the ground in a large spherical room lined with reflective panels. Across the room several panels slid back to reveal a doorway. As he stood up traveling lights illuminated on the floor, motioning him towards the exit. He was used to seeing this room for he had been there many times before. The illusion he had just experienced had already faded from his mind and he was once again aware that he was still part of a training program designed to enhance his covert skills. As he moved to the exit a voice called out to him. "Congratulations, the mission was completed succesfully, and in record time." The assassin responded, "Sure, but that was too easy. Are you guys trying to jerk me around or what. This is below my abilities." After a long pause came the response, "Very well then, please adjourn to the briefing room for a full report." The assassin sighed, shook his head and left the sphere, the panels closing behind him.

0101

You are your own worst enemy. You should deal with that.

0100

...the face suddenly drifted away into the distance and a new image took its place. The nothingness around her grew brighter and brighter until all was of a brilliant white illumination. As far as she could tell Marsha was in some kind of repository of stored knowledge. Row upon row of silver books stretched out before her from horizon to horizon. Each row rose above her for what seemed like miles and contained too many shelves to count. In contrast to the books the shelves were transparent as glass. Marsha's conscious mind became intensely curious as to the contents of these strange silver books. Her attention focused on a row far to her right and immediately Marsha felt herself moving towards it. As she drifted down the aisle she had chosen she noticed that none of the millions of books before her had any labels. Figuring she had no basis for comparing one book to the other Marsha looked up and started moving up the shelves, counting them as she went. As she approached the 1,247th shelf one book caught her attention. It was identical to all of the others but for some reason was sticking out farther than the rest of the books on the shelf. Marsha focused her thoughts on this one particular book and it slid silently off of the shelf and floated towards her. The book slowly opened itself and Marsha could see some sort of writing inside, although it was of a language beyond her comprehension. "That book you are not ready for", came a voice from behind her. She turned to find the face she had seen before she came upon the library. Before she could respond the face drifted down and away from her and said, "Follow me for you must start from the beginning. You cannot start all the way up here." Marsha followed behind the strange apparition out of the row and into the main corridor from which she had begun. They drifted for what seemed like days. Every row of shelves they passed was truly identical in every way. She tried repeatedly to converse with the face but it would say nothing to her in return. They continued in silence for so long that Marsha had almost stopped thinking about anything at all. But then her attention focused on something far ahead in the distance. They were approaching the end of the rows, an end she had thought not to exist. It then dawned on her what the face had meant about starting from the beginning. However, the beginning of what still eluded her. Time, knowledge, existance? The face seemed to read her thoughts and said, "Do not be concerned. I will explain all shortly." The two minds approached the first row and stopped at the bottom shelf. The book on the end of the bottom row slid out quietly and floated up to Marsha. The cover opened slowly and printed on the first page were the words...