Chapter 1: Ridiculous Accidents
Pov: Jake Spectre
Monday 9:36am
'Shitshitshitshitshit, SHIT! I am so getting fired!' I thought to myself as I hurried through the halls of Helion Laboratories, hoping to get to my assigned lab before my boss, Doctor Fulton, arrived. I had to physically stop myself from running, keeping my pace at an almost jog. I managed to get to the lab door just in time to toss my satchel in a corner and pull on my lab coat before the doctor walked in. "Ah, Mr Spectre, you're already here."
"Y-yes, sir." I said, trying to hide my heavy breathing.
"Are you alright there, Jake?" my boss asked, concern and curiosity clear on his face, "You're sweating quite heavily, are you running a fever?"
"No sir, not as far as I know."
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure, sir, it's nothing to worry about."
"Good, good. In that case, why don't you go get those power sims running?"
"Right, I'll get the computers booted up and set the simulations running," I said, before turning to the bank of computers mounted to the far wall of the lab, "Okay, booting systems now..." a soft whirring filled the lab as the hard drives and fans spooled up, followed by a whimsical chime as the operating software booted. I called up the simulation programs and opened the parameters for the prototype wormhole transportation system Dr Fulton and I had been working on for the last two-and-a-half years. Inputting today's range of variables I set the programs to run the power usage simulations. "And done. Okay, Dr Fulton, I've set the power sims first, then fluctuations, and lastly a few destabilisation scenarios, sound good? "
"That sounds just fine, Jake." he replied, as his phone began ringing, "I'm sorry, I have to take this, I'll be back in a few."
"No problem, I'll keep an eye on the sims," I said, sitting down at one of the workbenches lining the walls as Dr Fulton pushed through
the heavy lab doors and out into the corridor.
A few minutes later Fulton walked back, looking worried."Everything okay there, Doc?"
"Unfortunately not, something's come up, I need to go, can you handle things here?" he asked, fixing me with a steady gaze.
"I've got things covered here. If there's a problem I'll call you, okay? Okay, now go, take care of whatever it is you need to take care of."
"Thank you, I'll be back tomorrow. Please don't set anything on fire if you can help it," he said with a wink.
"No promises. Now go on, get! You have more important places to be right now."
"Alright, alright, I'm going!" he turned to leave again before looking back at me, "Thanks again, Jake, for understanding." I nodded to him as he turned again and finally left. I spun on my seat to face the workbench and the random bits of circuitry and machinery strewn atop it. I stretched my arms up with a groan, feeling a confusing but familiar weight around my chest. I reintroduced my face to its old friend Mr Palm as I realised I hadn't taken off my jacket, a denim waistcoat with more pockets than any item of clothing has a right to have, all of which were filled with much the same materials as the bench I sat at, and my habit of pulling random and improbable items out of it having earned it the nickname 'Jacket of Holding' by my co-workers. I shook my head with a chuckle before returning my focus to the contents of the table in front of me.
An hour or so passed with me fidgeting with the scattered detritus of past projects, occasionally pocketing this or that piece of electronic scrap, before anything interesting happened. The bank of computers gave a long, grating beep alerting me to whatever problem had occurred. I hauled myself up and walked over to the terminal and opened the interface screen whereupon I saw the words 'CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR: MOTHERBOARD[13] OVERVOLT! Please call for technical assistance immediately.'
'Well, shit, guess I'd best call the guys down at IT,' I thought running my hand down my face. I shuffled grimly over to the lab's landline and, after flicking through the 10 page phonebook, punched in the IT department's number. The phone rang a few times before someone on the other end answered, "Greetings from the IT collective, how may I be of service?"
"I need a technician up here, lab fourteen, my system just committed seppuku."
"I'll be the judge of that," the technician on the other end of the line said haughtily. "What's the error, anyway?"
"Two words: Motherboard Overvolt. Sound bad enough to warrant your oh-so-prestigious presence?"
"I'll be there in ten, just gonna grab my gear," and with a small clatter the line went dead.
As the technician said, he arrived ten minutes later, “Okay, show me this computer. I trust you didn’t let the magic smoke leak out?”
I raised an eyebrow as I looked him over. He stood almost a head shorter than me, and wore a pair of superweave black jeans, an unbuttoned gray checkered short dress shirt over a white t-shirt. He seemed to be sizing me up as well, peering at me through A pair of glasses with glowing frames, “You’re tall,” he said, “I like you. I’m Luke, by the way, Luke Mephisto.”
“Jake Spectre,” I extended a hand, which he shook eagerly, “nice to meet you. Computer’s over there.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder in the vague direction of the bank of computers. He sauntered over to the quietly smoking tower, and threw down his bag unceremoniously, pulling out some tools.
A vague sense of foreboding washed over me. I dragged my hand down my face, beginning a mental countdown ‘Five, four, three, two,-’ A large crash sounded from the other side of the self-sealing lab doors, ‘So close...’ I walked over to the intercom next to the door and pressed the talk button, “And you’re here because?” I asked the source of the ruckus outside.
“I MADE A THING!!” I heard through the soundproof doors. Another happy reunion of face and palm.
I pushed the talk “This had better not be another potato gun, Thalos.”
There was a faint click as Thalos, my oldest -and only- friend pushed the button of logical communication. “Uuh… Nope, not a potato gun! Not a potato gun at all!”
“Yeah, and we’re all surrounded by talking uni-”
There was an unceremonious clang, “Ha! All hail King Luke! Saviour of Systems!”
“What was that?” came Thalos’ voice over the intercom.
“Nothing. What are you doing here if you’re not showing off your latest act of improbability?”
“Showing off my latest act of awesome of course!”
‘Praise be to the mighty ones, who withstood this one as a child,’ I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Riiight. And I should let you in because?”
“I also brought Hunter’s!” At this Luke perked up, or fell over, with a shuffle of scattering electronics.
My head hit the wall with enough force to daze me for a second, before I glared at the intercom, “Let me get this straight. You came here to show off whatever mad thing you’ve built this time and, figuring I wouldn’t just let you in, thought you could bribe me with booze?”
“Yep,” came Thalos’ reply.
“Cool, come on in,” I said as I grabbed my ID card and swiped it in the security terminal. In burst a shaggy old mop with arms and legs toting a potato cannon with a radiation warning symbol plastered on the combustion chamber. “Please tell me that sticker is decorative!” I pleaded burying my face in my hand.
“Nope!”
I fixed Thalos with a steady gaze, and looked him over for any signs of radiation sickness, from the top of his scruffy mane of blonde hair, to his skinny but surprisingly strong arms, and over his branded t-shirt, old designer jeans, black threadbare hoodie and scuffed up black high-tops. No signs of illness anywhere. I sighed before extending a hand out to him, “Cider. Now.”
“One Hunter’s Dry comin’ right up!” he cheered with far too much excitement, before dumping his things on the floor. He started rummaging through the large camping bag with much the same reputation as my jacket and which wore the title; 'Hammerspace'. A short while later Thalos withdrew his hand grasping the can of miracle compound.
Reaching out I snatched the can away, before sitting heavily at a bench. I opened the can and took a long draw of the delicious liquid, before sighing deeply and turning back to my friend with an expectant look on my face, "Well? Are you going to show me this cannon of yours, or what?"I said as I walked over to the corner I tossed my satchel into and grabbed the bag. Opening up my satchel I pulled out my tablet and turned on the camera to record the demonstration of Thalos' latest bout of insanity.
Before Thalos began his little show and tell, there was a loud clatter as Luke ungraciously tossed down his tools and flopped himself down on the bench next to me, an eager look on his face, I shrugged and turned on the recording before waving at Thalos to proceed, seeing as he'd already turned on the Gopro he habitually wore.
The demo started as they usually did with Thalos showing off his latest creation and explaining the technical details, which seemed to revolve around the fact that this weapon of mass disruption was powered by a nuclear battery and a small reservoir of water that propelled a potato at speeds rivaling that of small caliber bullets. As the presentation continued Thalos rose to higher and higher levels of exuberance, culminating in an an excited misstep, leading to his foot becoming tangled in one of the many thick cables that ran across the floor. With a startled yelp and a colorful curse Thalos hit the floor, the cable wrapped around his ankle pulled taut and then ripped from its socket, followed by a shrill alarm and an ominous rumbling from the massive machine that accounted for more two and a half years of research and hard work. Somehow, Thalos, in his infinite ability to confuse reality, had activated the portal.
I sat there, gaping, for a couple seconds, trying to work out how my friend had managed to do by accident what myself and a team of physicists and engineers hadn’t been able to do after years of focused work and calculation. I pushed the momentary confusion out of my mind leaping up and dashing over to the control console, before a black screen reminded me of the room’s third occupant.
I turned to the technician in mild alarm, “You can fix this now, right?”
“I don’t think that’s a likely outcome, my friend.”
The rumbling from the wormhole generator grew more intense, and I felt a gentle tug in its direction. ‘At least this’ll be interesting,’ I thought to myself, as I turned and watched Thalos panic with mild amusement, before I walked over to my satchel and slung it over my shoulder. I stood in front of the aperture of the device and waited. Off to one side Thalos continued his manic flailing, whilst Luke scurried over to the pile of debris he’d created and hurriedly stuffed everything back into his bag before hurrying to stand beside me. The pull of the unstable vortex required to punch a hole in the fabric of reality grew in strength until we were sliding down a sheer linoleum cliff. The wormhole itself was essentially invisible apart from a faint shimmering of the air at the event horizon. As the three of us tumbled toward our uncertain fate I observed the faces of my companions, Thalos’ eyes were wide as he stared in terror at the approaching portal. Luke on the other hand had his eyes closed behind his glasses, and a content smile adorned his lips as he fell.
I turned my attention to myself and felt one of the largest grins I’d ever had on my face as the hole in the universe drew closer. I slowed my speed enough that I could grab the shoulders of my two travelling buddies before I pushed us away from the floor-turned-wall and into the opening. I whooped in anticipation as we hit the portal. A tingly rush shot up my spine as we passed over the event horizon. An instant later everything went black, then white, and then a sort of yellowy shade of purple before going black again. ‘This had better not kill us, or I’m gonna be so annoyed.’