Fields of Gold

Farmer Fang has always been a good man. He says his prayers and obeys the edicts of the gods. Today he stands atop a cylindrical dry-coral tower, and looks out over the Siberian fields. If he were not wearing his AR rig, he would see lines upon lines of solar panels sitting atop the flat squares of the organic pipeline.

Instead, he sees the symbolic representations of what he is overseeing. Fields upon fields of wheat, waving in the gentle Siberian winds. The sun is warm on his face; no AR rig has yet been able to match that simple sensation.Fang stretches out his hand, making beckoning gestures. The spirits of the wheat fields come forth to his tower, and they report to him. 99.5% successful conversion, first quadrant. 92.7% successful conversion, second quadrant - operations were suspended on the 441st through 452nd gateways by the biosensors, who detected what might have been an animal inside the processors. Fang nods, gesturing again. One of his robots lopes off into the distance, to act as his hands. The ubiquitous sensors of the recycling mechanism will be his eyes. But if there is a creature out there, it will need more than just someone to behold its pain.

Fang is a good man. He smiles to himself. He likes this work.