A mild mannered scientist wakes up in a desert with nothing but a road to follow in this award winning short story.
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A flash of light… So bright… A searing pain behind my eyes… Where am I? I finally get enough strength to open my eyes. A flash of motion to my left… It’s a wheel spinning. A bicycle wheel. I sit up and look around. A blue and silver bicycle is beside me but it’s too bent and broken to ride. I’m laying on my side about two feet from a road surrounded by a seemingly endless desert. Where am I? I roll over to my stomach and trace the road with my eyes, squinting against the glaring sun, I see something in the distance. What is it? A building? It looks large. A warehouse? A factory? Everything is fuzzy… Blurry. I can’t remember why I’m here… Or even who I am, for that matter. I must have been hit in the head pretty hard.
I roll back over and force myself to sit up, ignoring the blinding pain in my head. I feel fear and panic creeping up my throat and I force it back down. I have to get up and move. I have to figure out what happened and who I am. I reach for my back pocket hoping to find a wallet, identification, or any evidence of who I am. How is there nothing in my pockets? No wallet, no phone, absolutely nothing anywhere on my person. The only thing is a timer on my wrist, almost like a watch. It seems to be counting down and is currently at 27:42, but what was it counting down to? I wanted to check it for any engravings that might help but it seems like it’s stuck. There are no clasps or buckles to undo it and it’s entirely too tight to pull off. Maybe I can find some tools at that warehouse down the road.
I force myself to my feet and am glad to find that the only injury I have seems to be the headache and memory loss. I glance back at the bike again but it’s too smashed to ride down the road. I trudge forward and stretch my legs towards the warehouse. It doesn’t seem to be that far just a few miles maybe. My lips and throat are so dry that it feels like I’ve been eating sand. The sun is so bright that it’s burning my skin. My feet feel like they are about to fall apart with each clumsy step.
As the timer on my wrist hits 16:32, I finally make it to the warehouse and see the words “Conceptual Intelligence” scrawled above the door. I think I remember that. Do I work here? As I touch the door I lift up on the knob at the same time as if I knew the quirks of the door. It makes a loud scraping noise as I push it open.
The first room is an office that looks like no one has been in it for years. The desk in the center of the office is cluttered and filthy. A dust covered book on the corner draws my attention. I reach for the book. My clumsy hands fail me and the book falls to the dust covered cement floor. My eyes don’t follow the book, but instead they stay on the desk at a newspaper that was tucked underneath the book. The dust on the table frames the head storyline of the paper.
“Local scientist in the field of physics say they are mere days away from launching a machine that will instantly end reliance on fossil fuels forever.” I mouthed the words as I read the story. It continued,” Head scientist Dr. Christopher Day says that he used his own DNA as a genetic model to create the machine, nicknamed “Athanasy.” Day says the machine works the same way that the human cellular structure does. It multiplies atoms in the same way that our body multiplies skin cells and blood cells through a form of mitosis to help keep our bodies running.”
The picture that accompanied the article was a picture of a familiar looking scientist next to a large spherical machine. Why does he look so familiar? Is that me? Am I Dr. Christopher Day? This isn’t making any sense. Think Christopher! My memories came back like a dam had burst in my mind. Today was the day I started Athanasy, but where is everyone? Dr. Silverstein, my friend and fellow scientist. Mrs. Roberts, the comely young secretary that sat at this very desk day after day. Where are the News vans that were outside waiting for us to change the world? All gone… but where?
I glance down at the timer on my wrist, 11:51. I remember the timer on the machine. I use timers to make sure everything happens on time, but it doesn’t make any since that the timer is still counting down. I remember counting down from ten with everyone and then flipping the switch to turn the machine on. I remember the lights turn on and the whirring of the machine as it powered up. I remember the light grow brighter and brighter and then nothing. Then I woke up on the side of that road with no memory of what happened.
I cross the dingy office room and make my way to the inside of the main lab. The back side of my creation towers in front of me. It stands fifteen feet tall and was mainly spherical with four large pillars holding it in place. As I reach the back of it I use my hand to knock some of the dust off. The computer screen on it is barely recognizable. It’s so filthy that I can barely make out what it says. I can only see the light through all of the dust and grime on the screen. I rub it harder with my hand and finally see what the picture is. It’s another timer on the screen. The timer matches up exactly with the one on my wrist. The large red numbers read 09:38. The computer is unresponsive. The timer just keeps counting down.
Maybe something went wrong when I flipped the switch. Oh god, did I cause all of this? Did I kill everyone? No, my calculations were precise. My calculations are always precise. It must have been sabotaged. But by whom? It has to be the Russians. They knew we were so close. The switch is on the front. I walk my way around the machine, leaving a trail in the dust with my finger. I remember turning it on but the machine is clearly off. Did I dream turning it on? I just don’t understand what happened. Could this have something to do with me using my DNA as a map to write the code inside of the machine? Dr. Silverstein said that matching the sequences to myself was a bad idea. Why didn’t I listen? Is that why I was spared? Am I the only person on earth? There are so many questions.
As I get to the switch, I realize that it is indeed in the off position. Should I flip it on? Will it put everything back to the way it was? Will it even work at all? The timer says 05:13, not much time to figure it out. I make the decision to try to restart the computer. Fortunately, the computer and the machine use separate power sources. I unplug the computer and restart it. It takes a few seconds but as soon as it turns on I go to work. I locate Dr. Silverstein’s notes quickly and fairly easily but time is still counting down. I’m trying to hurry and that’s when I see something that shocks me to my very core. It was a file inside his folder that read “ENDGAME.”
I clicked on it and what came up was pretty much a scientific suicide note. Silverstein had all but spelled out the sabotage of my machine. He had halted the sequence that makes the machine repeat the sequence. Meaning that when the machine started it didn’t have the input that tells it to restart. When it shut down, it must have pulled me back to the beginning of the sequence through both space and time.
The realization of what I saw hits me like a brick. I never even thought it would be him. Even then how could he have known I would be pulled through time? The timers at 03:25 which means I have to work fast. I read the rest of his note just in case it could help. I mean is this the first time that I’ve done this or has this been going on for a while? Days? Weeks? Months even? No time to think about that now.
I run to the front of the machine and open the control panel. It’s mainly a mess of wires but I’m sure this is where he made the changes. It’s like looking under the hood of a car after taking a baseball to the head. I can’t remember what goes where. It’s so hot in this lab that I’m sweating. My eyes sting from the sweat. What is it? What’s wrong? I look down at the timer on my wrist and I’m shocked to see that it’s at 01:05. Damn it!! What did that bastard do?
At 00:30 the machine made a larger grinding noise and started up. The lights shown through the dust covered bulbs and the vibrations from the engine vibrated some of the dust off. THERE! He disconnected the wire that completes the circuit.
00:20 it’s just out of my reach. If I can grab it then it should be easy to plug in. 00:15 my fingers are just touching it. I’ve almost got it. 00:10 GOT IT!! I pull it up and reach for the connector. 00:05 It’s not there. It’s cut off… I can’t fix it. 00:04 Dear God, what’s going to happen? 00:03 I stand up and stumble backwards. 00:02 as I hit the wall my hand falls on something that seems familiar. 00:01 I look down and see the blue and silver bike from the road.
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A flash of light… So bright… A searing pain behind my eyes… Where am I?