The Data Center Waltz

​            Let’s go to a dance, my dear.
            We’ll split the evening with love and laughter. The stars above shall be the witness to our consummation of our devotion to each other. We’ll watch the night sky turn into morning as it blooms in reds and golds.
            Let’s go to a dance, my love.
            I know the perfect spot. It’s just over the hill. Can’t you hear the music? The hum and roar of industry and advancement drowning out the silly fluttering of butterfly wings or the gasping creak of the drained river?
            Let’s go to a dance, my darling.
            The fence is tall and heavy and silver. We cannot climb. We cannot dig. Yet, I am always prepared. Reach into the picnic basket, if you would, and give me the cutlery. Yes, the bolt cutters right there.
            Let’s go to a dance, my sweet.
            I’ve peeled the chain back. You can enter. This is a private dance – we’re sneaking in. Yes, it’s a bit naughty, isn’t it? The delicious thrill of being somewhere we’re not allowed, where nobody is allowed.
            Let’s go to a dance, my beloved.
            An intruder on our private moment! How rude. I’ll be back in a jiffy – we’ll have a talk, man to man. Look up at the lights above and try not to listen.
            Let’s go to a dance, my beauty.
            I have returned! What? No, no, I am perfectly fine, even more now that I am back in your presence. My clothes? Ah, yes. The color isn’t mine. Don’t you worry your darling head about that. Do you have the basket?  
            Let’s go to a dance, my angel.
            Bring it over here. Yes, that’s right. Just over here. If you’ll hold it just a second, I’ll get through the door. It’s a simple number, one our intruder told me. It’s ironic, in a way. It’s our anniversary date! What are the odds?
            Let’s go to a dance, my babe.
            Careful not to slip. You can feel the electricity coursing through every surface. Does it make you tingle? Does it taste like copper on your tongue? Avoid it. Follow me. Duck when I duck and do not drop the basket.
            Let’s go to a dance, amore mio.
            You can place the basket right there. Look at that! We’re in the heart, you know. Apropos, don’t you think? Your heart next to my heart next to what keeps this creature alive. For my part, I can feel it racing with excitement. Here. Place your palm on my wrist. Can you feel it? Can you feel the surge of adrenaline? Is it in you as well?
            Let’s go to a dance, mi amor.
            Lift the lid, please. What a beauty. The sleek black iron. The dials and buttons the color of gemstones. The large amber numbers counting down down down down down. We have time. Don’t you fret. Grab the other side. Lift with me. On my count. One, two, three. Good. Let’s set it down right next to that thing. Yes, that bloated server stealing the world! I love how you use words. Right there. Yes, perfect.
            Let’s go to a dance, meine Liebe.
            Kiss me. Yes, just like that. Not goodbye, no. Not for us. I will press the big, ruby button and then we run. You run and I run and we head for the fence and out and up the hill. We can see from above. We can see our work, our dance from the home of eagles. Are you ready?
            Let’s go to a dance, sweetheart.
            Go. Go. Go. Go.
            Run. Faster.
            Out through the hole. Keep your feet. Keep moving.
            I know the grass is slippery, but we can’t stop. Here, let me help you.
            Go.
            Okay. Okay. We’ve reached a safe distance. Breathe. Breathe. Let the cool air in. Let the fresh air, the air we deserve, into your lungs. We’re safe.
            Let’s go to a dance, you and me.
            Turn. Watch. The first blast is like an orgasm, edged beyond the point of reasonable return. Feel the burst, hear the rupture of the machines losing their lives, taste the metal as it splits and burns. Look at the sky! Look at how it lights up, fireworks like freedom. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel the shackles coming off our necks? Can’t you feel minds breaking out of mechanical stupor? Can’t you feel nature returning? It is beautiful and you are beautiful and what we have done is beautiful.
            This is only one dance, my heart. One of countless, one of perhaps too many. But one is better than none, yes?
            Tell me – shall we dance again tomorrow night?