Baked Scribe Flashback : Test Run

.

.

“Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sarah asked again. “The math is sound, the equipment is working, what reason what I have to turn back now?”

“I know, I just wish we could be more confident about this.”

“We’re as sure as we’re going to be. If we give it another week what do you think you’re going to figure out? There’s no way to prevent at least a tiny rift from forming when we make the jump.”

They had taken to referring to the rift so nonchalantly, as if it were something that really existed, and not just the term they had come up with to describe a phenomenon that was purely theoretical. The dark void which time passed through was something that most serious scientific minds had rejected as fantasy.

“I just don’t think we’re ready.” Jeremiah wasn’t ready to concede the point.

Sarah took in a slow breath. This argument has been ongoing since she had announced her intention to take the first jump, five minutes into the past. The argument had been civil at times, heated at others. She stepped forward and took hold of his arm, but he avoided eye contact.

“I understand why you’re reluctant, I get your hesitation. I’m scared too. But there is never going to be a time when we aren’t scared. Everyone who has ever taken the first step of something has had to square up against that fear.”

“I know.”

“All of our tests with organic material have gone perfectly.”

“Yes, but it isn’t like the rabbits can tell you if you just scrambled their brain or made them blind.”

“You’re being dramatic, would you lay off the histrionics for five minutes?”

“I’m worried about—”

“I know. You have to trust my judgment.”

He shut his mouth at her sudden icy tone. If anything had been established in the relationship, it was the point where she would engage in no further conversation on the given topic. He would have a better chance of convincing her that red was actually green. As much as his reason was screaming at him to talk her out of it, he dropped his gaze and nodded defeat.

It took only a few minutes. He closed the door, sealing her in and went to the control panel. Part of him wished they had installed a window on the door but would he really want to watch the thing destroy her from the inside?

The lights in the room dimmed to almost complete dark as he powered up and switched to the external generator. He felt a vibration under his feet as the mechanism warmed up. They had already entered the destination data for the jump so all was required was to execute. His hand hovered over the button intermittently, Moving up and down as his internal debate raged on.

In the end, he pushed the button, saying a silent prayer, apologizing to Sarah for anything that might go wrong.

The door to the lab was immediately thrown open and Sarah rushed in.

“Christ Jesus, I thought you were going never going to push that.”

Jeremiah gaped at her, glancing back at the machine before looking at her. She looked panicked, sweat beading on her forehand and as she stepped forward, the manic look her eyes actually made him take an involuntary step back.

“We have to destroy it,” she said verging on tears

“What the hell are you talking about? It worked, didn’t it?”

“Something followed me in through the rift.”

Jeremiah looked around the room, stupidly, as if a third-party was going to be standing there. She shook her head.

“It isn’t here but it’s close. It must have been displaced somewhere else.”

“But why would—”

“That machine is the anchor that is pulling the thing in from the timestream. If we destroy it, I think it will be pulled back.”

“But why do we have to send it back?”

“Jeremiah, I was there on the other side with that thing. I saw its thoughts, I felt its rage. We have to send it back before he tries to bring others across.”

“How could it—”

“Jeremiah!”

He nodded and turned towards the panel, only vaguely thinking about how rare it was for her to use his name like this. They had designed the unit with a self-destruct mechanism that would fry the internal processor and set off explosive bolts in the floor underneath , sending the pod plummeting to the river, four hundred feet below.

His hand wavered again.

“What is the problem? What are you waiting for?”

Something was wrong. He couldn’t say what it was or why, but something was not right about any of this. She wasn’t right. He had never known her to panic for any reason.

“Destroy the pod! Do it, you idiot!”

She wouldn’t be so casual about it. This had been her life’s work as much as his. She had gone through the same professional suicide and had sacrificed just as much.

“I’ll do it, God damn you.”

She stepped forward to throw the switch. Coming to a sudden decision, he put his shoulder into her and shoved, knocking her back several feet. He pulled the protective cage back down over the switch and snapped the key off in the lock.

Before she could say or do anything, he rushed forward to the pod, throwing open bolts and pulling open the door.

Sarah was still strapped to the chair.

He staggered back, staring at her as her head lolled up, vacant eyes staring out at him as a line of spit started to fall from her lifeless lower lip.

“Oh God,” he whispered it to himself as he heard the sound of the thing behind him as it stood in what now had to be its true form, the thing that had used her to jump in through the rift.

Jeremiah felt his knees start to go weak as he drew in what would almost certainly be his last breath.

.

.

.

.

.

.