When the pressure is high enough, Goldstone opens the valve to the pistons. They undulate slowly at first, inducing the gears to break free of old rust. The now-empty seats in the ship rise with the stern and give way to a loud CRACK when it falls. “Get in, Jimmy,” says Goldstone to his youngest son, who declines inaudibly and returns to his chair. Three courageous fellows hop in instead but prove to be too much weight for the pistons, one of which turns out to be broken. Two engineers grab the gears and coax them along, more or less conceding a breakdown.
Goldstone urges the helpers to move into the cloud of steam. “Don’t they know art is about illusion?” he asks incredulously. “Hide yourself behind the fucking thing!”
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