March 2, 1968
It is perhaps for the best that I do not base a great deal of my self worth upon my guise of an academian, enjoyable as it can be. Were I in such a position, it would have been unthinkably crass for me to trade a paltry handful of “extra-credit points” to Simpkins in order to have him attend a meeting of the Holy Order of the Working Man and obtain a copy of their abstract. From this document, I have been able to wrest clues pertaining to their Great Plot. The following is true:
Although founded in admirable working class values and tempered with the desire for self-betterment, the pure ideals of the Order were dashed by the wayside the moment that they started dealing with the Kline Mechanics.
The members of this once-august brotherhood now labor for one purpose, and one purpose alone: to gain access to Kline-influenced palaces built throughout the rings of Saturn. Delicate spires, swooping promenades, and non-Euclidean balconies speak for more than human achievement within their endulled shells. The standard myriad flavors of unearthly delights are offered as well, no doubt. If my notes on the properties of Kline are up-to-date, it would almost be required.
In order to access their celestial rest homes, the Order must offer a sacrifice to the Mechanics. Basic demonology. Literature. Opera. Yes, yes. In this case it bears repeating to underscore the abnormality of these twisted circumstances: the Mechanics do not desire anything that would cause discomfort to the eternal souls of their agents. A cursory examination indicates that they actually wish to aid humanity in removing the blight of radioactive by-products from this mortal plane.
There is, of course, the problem of transporting it to the Aether Reservoir and an unwritten slew of studies that must be done relating the properties of the trade to the unique circumstances of this environment. Hearts so ensorcelled by slavish greed will not think to enact the proper precautions. I mus-- No. The Aeolian reverberations are too insistent! Diverting my attention at this point in the process would be disastrous.
Of course. Simpkins had a friend: his work on zephyric ur-harmonics was cause for a pleasant February afternoon. He is ready for further revelations, this young Rose.
(Source: The private journal of Dr. Orlando Laswell)