by Fox, Chris
My coffee sloshed, spilling a little through the glorified sippy cup Specialties had thankfully provided. I did my best to clean coffee from my hand as the door opened and I made my way up the hallway. The carpet was frayed and stained, and whatever its original color, it was a flat yellow now. I left a trail of muddy foot prints as I followed it to the last door on the left, keying in another code as I fished my keys from my pocket. The door required both to open, the only sensible security we had in the building.
I reached instinctively to flick on the lights, but they were already on. I was used to being the first person there, because mornings were the only time I could get any real work done. By nine or ten o'clock the office was buzzing with activity, which made concentrating nearly impossible. The room was lined with rows of desks, which management referred to as a 'collaborative workspace'. What it really meant was that our office was one step from a call center environment, and that engineers had to hunker down and wear headphones if they wanted any prayer of cranking out the volume of code demanded by management.
"Jesus, what the hell happened to your clothes, David? I told you to dress professionally, and you come in looking like a bedraggled dog," Dick called, dickishly. He hurried up to me, straightening a tasteful red tie. His suit was impeccable, contrasting oddly with the peeling walls and hoodie-wearing engineers like myself. "Come on, we're pitching investors, and I want you to babysit one of their liaisons. Don't fuck this up, because if you do I won't just blacklist you. I will murder your career, David. Then I will have the body made into hamburger, and I will eat the fucking corpse. Do you understand me?"
Chapter 3- Initech
"Uhh," I replied, falling into line behind him. I was a half a cup of coffee short of a witty reply, so I just followed him through the office to the front conference room. We had two: one in the front, and one in the back. The back one was nicer, but I couldn't hear myself think, because they were building the Transbay terminal right outside the window. The front conference room had thick concrete walls which cut off internet access. Not good when working for an internet-reliant startup.
Three people, only one of which I recognized, were seated around our conference table. The two on the right were an odd pair. The first was an elderly man, who's posture was stiffer than iron. He wore a black suit that had probably cost more than my Civic, and his snowy hair was artfully styled. A black cane topped with a golden scarab rested against the table next to him. He met my interest with piercing green eyes that somehow seemed younger than the rest of him, weighing me silently as I averted my gaze. The second figure was much more interesting--a beautiful blonde in her thirties. She wore a blazer, and flowing pants that looked both professional and comfortable.
Across the table sat the person I did recognize, Suresh. There was no official engineering manager at Initech, but if there had been it would have been Suresh. She was both the smartest person I'd ever met and the best programmer. I'd learned a ton in the few months I'd been working with her, and had the sense that she was just scratching the surface of what she could teach.
Instead of her usual jeans and flip-flops, Suresh wore a floral-print skirt and pumps. She'd even worn a muted red lipstick that matched her dark complexion. Her usual ponytail had been abandoned, letting her thick, dark hair spill down her shoulders. That drove home the severity of the meeting. If we were working this hard to impress investors, it could only mean that Initech was out of money.
"Now that David is here, we'll get started," Dick began, sliding into the seat next to Suresh. I took the seat next to him, giving a weak smile to our guests. "Before we get to the demonstration, do you have any questions?"
"I'm sure we'll have many questions after the demonstration, but I'm eager to see if your technology does what you claim," the elderly man said, his voice strong and deep. It bothered me that no one had introduced me properly, but I was just an intern, after all. "Show us, then we'll talk about whether Mohn Corp is willing to fund you."
"David, will you escort Ms. Summers and Mr. Usir to the back conference room?" Dick said, eyeing me critically. It wasn't a request.
"Of course," I said, suddenly aware that I was still clutching my boxed cinnamon roll and coffee. I set the box down with a sigh, but decided there was no harm in keeping the coffee. "If you'll follow me."
I left the room, threading through rows of desk back to the rear conference room. I was a little surprised Dick had chosen to use it, given the noise, but I understood immediately when I opened the door. Suresh's accelerator had been set up.
"What am I looking at?" the blonde-- Ms. Summers asked. She moved into the room, crossing her arms as she frowned at the accelerator.
"That's our light accelerator," I explained, moving to stand next to her. She smelled heavenly, though any attraction I felt was smothered by the terror of messing this up. "It's a vacuum tube. You see the mirrors on either side? The laser broadcasts light modulated at a certain frequency, and we measure the amplitude and speed using the distance between the two mirrors," I explained, trying to make it as understandable as possible. That was harder than you might think, because I didn't fully understand how the thing worked.
"And this thing somehow allows faster-than-light transmission?" she asked, giving me a skeptical look.
"Not yet," I said, darting a look at Usir. He stood at the back of the room, utterly relaxed in the same way a cat might be. His cane was cradled in his right hand, without resting any weight on it, and I realized it was merely a prop. "We're close, though. When we pull it off, satellites will be able to broadcast signals far faster than today's internet. We'll be able to transmit near-limitless data anywhere in the world-- instantly."
"And how exactly do you circumvent the speed of light?" Usir asked, raising a snowy eyebrow. "Einstein believed that was impossible."
I glanced through the doorway, but Suresh and Dick were talking quietly together about midway through the office's main room. Looked like I'd have to field this myself. I walked to the whiteboard and picked up a marker. "You're right about that. So far as we know there is no way to break the speed of light barrier."
I drew two ovals, labeling one normal space, and one different space. "The thing is, the speed of light might not be constant. Some areas of space have different characteristics, and those areas allow light to move faster."
"Ahh," Usir said, giving a chilly smile. "If you can simulate the same characteristics of this 'different space,' then you can, in essence, trick the light into going faster."
"Sounds pretty hand-wavy to me," Summers said, her scowl still firmly in place. "If you haven't achieved it yet, what exactly are you demonstrating today?"
"We'll be showing you how different space works," Suresh said, striding confidently into the room. Dick filed in behind her, moving to stand next to Usir. "My accelerator measures the relative speed of light. This demonstration will show you the speed of normal space, then show you the speed we can achieve using the special modulation I've created."
She moved to the far side of the accelerator, and fiddled with several switches. The machine hummed to life, and a thin green light shot from the laser at one end of the tube. "The normal time for light to beam from a satellite to earth is .12 milliseconds in perfect conditions. Atmospheric interference usually raises that to .15 or .16."
A digital readout at the base of the accelerator flared to life. The numbers flickered for a moment, then settled in to a steady .13. Suresh adjusted her glasses, her gaze sliding between Summers and Usir. "Any questions before we begin?"
"None," Usir said, raising a hand to silence Summers when she started to speak. "Begin your demonstration."
Suresh nodded, turning a dial on the far side of the accelerator. The light flared brighter for a moment, then began to pulse in an odd cadence. The brilliance hurt my eyes, so I focused on the readout instead of the demonstration. It was spiking upwards to the .012 level, which was now a typical reading for us.
"Watch this," she said, tappi
ng another dial. The pattern began to change. "This is my first attempt at the new modulation. I doubt the speed difference over the normal speed of light is even measurable, but if we can find the right algorithm we could dramatically increase the speed. That's where Mohn Corp comes in, of course."
The machine began to hum more loudly; the pulses of light came in a wild staccato. Definitely new behavior. I squinted, wanting to look away but also wanting to see what was happening. There was a sharp burst of light in the tube, far brighter than our lasers should have been able to produce.
Another burst of light, this one even brighter. I staggered backwards, grabbing the edge of a chair as I nearly fell. Someone had just shoved an icepick through my skull, and now they were sending current down it. The final burst of light was even larger, filling the room with emerald brilliance. The icepick exploded, and I vaguely remember my coffee falling to the floor.
Chapter 4- Hospital
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, mouth drier than the Sahara and body thick with sweat. A heart monitor beeped steadily; I sat up, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the soft halogens. The walls were sterile white, and there was a curtain screening off the other bed in the room. A TV hung from the wall across from me, though it was off at the moment. Was I in the hospital?
Someone was seated in the visitor's chair: a woman with casually elegant brown hair and dark eyes. She wore blue jeans that could have been painted on, and a cashmere sweater popular at colleges far more expensive than mine had been. She was gorgeous. Her legs were toned like a dancer's, and her posture backed up that impression. Her back was straight, but relaxed at the same time. That, combined with her sun-darkened complexion, gave her an exotic look, the kind that drew every male eye in a five-mile radius. She was peering down at an iPad, scanning intently.
It was only then that I realized I knew her. It was Jillian, and I could only gawk. When Jillian and I were growing up, she'd been even poorer than my mother and I, and we couldn't even keep the power on. The reservation was the scary place that most of our parents forbade us from going, for good reason. Tuolumne had a serious meth problem, and that problem had originated on the res. Back then, Jillian's newest clothing was third-hand, and a lot of it was older than that. She'd patched it herself, but there was only so much she could do. The kids had made fun of her every day, especially the girls. I'd been her male equivalent, teased mercilessly by the boys, which was part of why we'd bonded.
The days of hand me downs and too-big shoes were definitely over for Jillian.
"You look incredible," I croaked. Speaking was unexpectedly painful, and I tried swallowing to ease the pain.
She eyed me frostily, not the slightest hint of anything approaching a smile.
"Here," she said, rising gracefully and picking up a glass of water with a straw in it. She maneuvered the straw between my lips. "Don't drink it too quickly."
I gulped it down greedily until it was gone, and found myself breathing heavier afterwards. "How long have I been out?"
"Four days," she said, sinking back into the chair. She shifted her legs, drawing my gaze. I was staring, and I knew that she knew it. Her expression didn't look displeased, but then it didn't look pleased either. "Apparently you passed out in the middle of some lab. Paramedics brought you here and had no explanation for why you'd fallen into a coma."
"Coma?" I asked, more than a little confused. "I've been in a coma?"
"Yes, they're mystified," Jillian said. She looked more concerned than I'd have expected after that frosty glance just a moment ago.
"Not that I'm not grateful, but what are you doing here?" I asked, struggling to sit up. I finally noticed a little white remote for the bed and raised the back until I was sitting almost straight.
"You weren't answering your phone," she said, giving a quick shrug. Something flashed through her eyes. Anger, maybe. "Your mother is dying, David. I wanted you to be there before the end."
"Dying? What are you talking about? She can't be. I just talked to her," I said, swinging my legs off the bed. A wave of vertigo knocked me back into the pillows.
"Don't try to get up yet. Take a minute," Jillian said, rising again. She pushed my legs back onto the bed and covered me with the blanket. I felt naked in the flimsy hospital gown. "You talked to her four days ago, David."
"How?" was all I could muster. Mom couldn't be dying. I refused to accept it.
"We don't have time to talk about that here. We need to go." Jillian brushed a lock of hair from her face. "You and I both know what did this though, David. They've come back."
"They don't exist, Jillian," I snapped. "We were kids. We made it up." The heart monitor began beeping more quickly. "Neither one of us belonged, and it was a cry for attention. Something we convinced ourselves was true, because we wanted to be special. It's time to grow up, Jillian. Aliens don't exist."
"Do you seriously believe that?" she asked, tone unreadable. She paused for a long moment, studying me with those heavy brown eyes. "You do, don't you? You've convinced yourself it never happened, repressed the ship, the abduction. All of it. My god, your mother was right."
"My mother has been committed." I leaned back, trying to breathe deeply. I'd gone lightheaded, and was more than a little queasy. "She's been committed twice, and just because they released her doesn't mean she's sane. What I can't believe is that you're buying into her delusions. Jillian, I made it out. From the way you're dressed, it looks like you have, too. We've made something of ourselves. I can't afford to get pulled back in, and I can't believe you'd allow yourself to."
"Pulled back in? David, we don't have a choice," she replied hotly. She stalked over to the bed, withdrawing something golden from her pocket. My skin went cold when I recognized the little boomerang. It dredged up the terrible chittering, and the too-thin grey limbs, from the dark recesses of my mind. "You recognize it, I see. Your mother took it from a grey man. If that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will. Take it."
I stifled the urge to say something I'd regret, instead accepting the golden device. It was warm to the touch, more than it should have been. I rested my free hand on the metal arm of the bed, swinging my legs over the side. A vibration passed through me, like touching a live wire. I had no idea what it was, but an arc of current shot from my hand. It was like a spark of static electricity, but a thousand times worse. The electricity jumped, sending a bolt into the heart monitor next to the bed.
The heart monitor gave a brief scream, then went dark. Smoke poured from the top. What the hell had just happened?
"We really need to get you out of here. Right now," Jillian said, throwing an arm around me. "Can you walk?"
Heels clicked on the linoleum outside, and Jillian released me as a tall blonde walked in. A tall black man trailed in her wake, dark dreadlocks spilling down his shoulders. He wore a trench coat, with his hands tucked into deep pockets. Not at all the type I'd expect a woman of Summers' bearing to keep company with.
"Ahh, David," she said, giving me a predatory smile that was probably meant to be friendly. Her artfully coiffed hair framed her face like a lion's mane; her lipstick was like blood. "I see that you're awake. How are you feeling?"
Jillian leaned closer, whispering. "Get ready to run."
"What are you doing in my hospital room?" I asked, raising shakily to my feet. "And who's your friend?"
"Marcus here is my associate. We're only here to check up on a potential investment," Summers said, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "Mohn Corp has decided there's merit in Initech's work, and you're an integral part of that. Doctor Usir has asked me to ensure that you will continue to remain a part of the project, before we send your CEO a term sheet."
"And if I've already received a better job offer?" I asked, clutching Jillian's arm for a moment. I released her when the shaking in my legs stopped. There was still a chance I was going to topple, but damn it if I wasn't going to preserve some shred of my dignity.
Summers stiffened, but i
t wasn't the words that had caused the reaction. She was staring at the golden device still clutched in my right hand. "Where did you get that?"
"None of your goddamn business," Jillian shot back, stepping protectively in front of me. "You need to leave. Nurses will be here any minute to check on David." She nodded at the still-smoking heart monitor.
"You're Phasic." Summers narrowed her eyes, and she took a threatening step toward Jillian. The word had an immediate effect on Marcus, who adopted a combat stance similar to the ones I had seen Jillian use during sparring bouts back when we were teens.
I wasn't sure what happened. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was something implanted by the grey men, but my hand shot up of its own accord. An arc of pure electricity shot out, tagging Marcus in the chest. He was hurled into the wall hard enough to smash the TV, much to our mutual surprise.
Summers danced backwards, raising both hands. The first pointed at Jillian, and an arc of electricity identical to the one I'd fired shot into her chest. Jillian was flung backwards, back arched and face locked in a rictus of pain. Summers' other hand pointed at me, and an unseen force lifted me from the ground. I dangled in the air, invisible fingers squeezing my throat hard enough to cut off the flow of air. Black spots swam across my vision as I choked and sputtered.
"The device," Jillian cried from somewhere far away. "David, use the device."
I was dimly aware of the golden boomerang still clutched in my hand, and I raised the device in Summers' direction. Her eyes widened, and the pressure on my throat disappeared. Summers dove for the doorway as a wave of green light erupted from the golden boomerang.
The lower portion of the door and the wall next to it simply ceased to exist, though Summers' rolled safely into the hallway. I toppled to the ground in a heap, shaking like I'd run a marathon. Whatever had summoned the electricity and activated the device apparently took quite a toll.