EVENT HORIZON
Part I
Skylar Rains
1
A few years from now
He was hoping to hide his frustration as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and waited. His eyes may have been focused on a grasshopper crawling across the windshield, but his thoughts were a million miles away. A groan betrayed his distress and threatened to raise more questions than he cared to answer.
“Mr. Rains?”
He broke his gaze from the insect and glanced quickly at the identification card being passed back to him.
“Sir, you are cleared to enter.”
He accepted his ID card and slipped it quickly into his shirt pocket. The uniformed figure stepped away from his car as the gate before him retracted. Skylar lifted his foot from the brake and allowed himself to coast slowly away from the guard booth. It wasn’t until he spotted that same guard in his rearview mirror that he finally exhaled. He shook his head then accelerated toward that familiar little complex behind the training facility.
He replayed the numbers in his mind as he searched for a parking space near the non-descript brick building. Numbers were all he could see anymore after three months of researching, calculating, typing, reviewing, recalculating, and reviewing again. He couldn’t afford to have one single number out of place. In the world of computer programming, one digit could mean the difference between life and death – figuratively speaking, of course.
He pulled up next to the street lamp then shut off the engine. The keys slipped from his grasp, tumbling to the floor amongst a year’s worth of dirt, leaves, and Dentyne wrappers. Instead of raining curses on his fumbling fingers, all he muttered were those insipid algebraic formulas as he retrieved the keys. He slipped them into his pocket before opening his car door. His cell phone chirped, startling him suddenly as he stepped from car. He drew the cell out of his jacket pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was his sister.
“What’s up?”
“Skylar? Hey, it’s Gina. Is it true?”
Skylar slid his identification card through the reader at the front door and heard the faint click of the lock disengaging. He pulled on the heavy door and stepped into the bright hallway.
“Please tell me that Mom didn’t call you,” he groaned.
“All she said was that they’re sending you to the Middle East. After you gave them six years, they just decided to pull the plug and ship you somewhere else,” she said.
He snickered, realizing those words reflected his own frustrations. To hear his thoughts spoken from someone else’s mouth was almost jovial. He bypassed the elevator and then opened the door that led to the stairwell. Voices echoed in the cramped stairwell as two men headed up from the depths. He stepped aside, nodding to the two gentlemen that nudged past him and headed toward the upper levels.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened. Remember how I told you that I discovered a way to go in the other direction? Keep in mind what I told you last year. I don’t want to repeat it.”
“You’re talking about that device that Sean Roush-Johnson used to go back to 1950?”
He was impressed to see that she remembered the name of the world’s first time-traveler. Not many people remembered that name simply because he never got a chance to bask in the spotlight. Sean never returned to describe his experience to the world. By the time his journey was made public, Sean had already died an old man even though he was born in the 1990’s.
“It was 1958, and yeah, I’m talking about the same one. Supposedly it could only go in one direction,” he paused, glancing to see if anyone was around, “It was believed that we could only revisit the past, but I discovered a mistake in the programming and it can definitely go the other way. I brought this up two months ago and guess what it got me?”
He could hear the sound of running water and pots clanging together. It seemed like every time Gina called, she was either doing the dishes or feeding a screaming infant.
“A transfer? What does the Middle East have to do with time travel? Why would they do that?” she asked.
He headed down the stairs and then quickly swiped his identification card through the slot beneath the “restricted” sign. There was a momentary pause before the lock disengaged. He opened the door and stared down the long, vacant hallway.
“Because I’m just a lowly peon. And the Middle East has nothing whatsoever to do with my research. If I was able to find the flaw in the programming, then imagine how much information I was privy to. I must have dipped my nose into a lot of stuff I wasn’t allowed to see. But it’s too late now,” he said.
“So they’re shipping you away? What about your discovery? Don’t they want it?” she asked.
He rushed down the hall and stopped at the door labeled B-11. He reached into his left pocket and pulled out a key. Then he pressed his ear to the door and listened. Satisfied with the silence beyond the door, he inserted the key.
“They took what I gave them and I’m sure they’ll use it, but I guess they have no further need for me. Listen, I’ve got to tell you something, Gina,” he said, turning the key and opening the door, “I’m leaving, but I’m not going to the Middle East.”
He could hear Gina’s world come to a stop all of a sudden. She had shut off the water and was probably taking a moment to stare at the phone.
“What?”
“I’m leaving and I’m going somewhere else entirely. Look, I’m ready to start over. I’m going somewhere else and… and I’m ready to start from scratch. I’ve got nothing here,” he said.
He listened for a response on the phone but there was only breathing. He turned on the light in the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
“You’re taking the ‘Sean Roush-Johnson’ way out of here?” she asked with a sigh.
He stared down at the large CT machine, though he knew it was not a medical scanner at all. The time travel community had discovered a whole new purpose for the body-imaging device commonly referred to as a “cat scan.” While a man might be too large to fit through a microscopic wormhole, the data of his makeup wasn’t. Simply put, he could be converted into code and sent anywhere, leaving his “lifeless” body behind in the machine. His body wouldn’t be truly dead of course. It could easily be revived once the data stream is returned from wherever it was sent.
He stepped closer then turned on the computer terminal beside it. Then he reached over and flipped the red switch from the power strip. The lights of four other computer towers next to the large machine blinked on followed by the digital patter of the systems starting up.
“Think about it for a moment, Gina. I was never in this for the money. Dad took pretty good care of us. We could have easily lived off the interest of his investments. Why do you think I became a computer programmer in the first place? Why do you think I had Dad pull all those strings to get me on this project?” Skylar asked, wondering if she was even still on the other end of the line, “Dad could have bought us anything we wanted. I wanted adventure and I wanted the kind of adventure he couldn’t have purchased.
“Yes, Gina, I wanted to go on an adventure through time. I didn’t want the world of ‘today.’ Spoiled little Skylar had an ulterior motive behind his years of college and his years of military service. Your spoiled little brother was jealous of the kid who traveled back to 1958 and fell in love.”
“So you’re going to leave us behind just like he left his family behind?” she asked.
He groaned. She had always been the one to support his decisions in life. Even as a child, she had been his encourager. He recalled a time when he was twelve or thirteen when she even helped him pack a duffel bag with all the survival essentials because he intended to run away from home. He never made it more than a f
ew blocks down the road, but still she proved that he could count on her. It didn’t matter how ludicrous it was for a boy to leave his family over the loss of the Playstation. All that mattered was that he was grounded from video games and he didn’t like it.
“You have your husband and two children to come home to every day. Mom and Dad still have each other. I have no one,” he said, waiting for the large machine to power up, “I love you, Gina. I love Mom and Dad too, but it’s time for me to move on. I didn’t know you were going to call, so I had mailed you a letter explaining all this.”
He removed the silver flash stick from his shirt pocket and slid it into the USB port on the laptop. A box appeared on the computer screen asking him if he wanted to update all the current the files with the information on the flash drive. He clicked “yes”.
“You’re there now, I take it,” she said with a sigh, “It would be a waste of time for me to try to talk you out of it.”
“Yeah, there’s no turning back now. I’m loading in my repair program right now. I already inserted all the necessities for the trip. Basically, I programmed everything I could possibly need,” he said, watching the computer loading in all the new files and updates.
“I’ve never been able to talk you out of anything before,” she stated.
“No, I guess you haven’t,” he said with a chuckle.
“Will you get in trouble?”
“They’ll never catch me. If I figured out everything correctly, there’s a ten-thousand percent exchange between the passage of time here and the time I experience in the future. Basically, for every hour that passes here, I will experience 10,000 hours in the future. The weekend is coming and no one will be in this building until Monday.”
She snickered then he heard her release a long breath into the phone. Something clanged in the background. He watched the “ready” sign light up on the CT machine and then looked down at the monitor. A little window appeared on the screen, exclaiming “done transferring files”. He moved the cursor to the bottom of the screen and ejected the flash drive.
“I’m not surprised. When you wanted something bad enough, you always got it. But you have no idea what the future holds. What if you find yourself in a world like Mad Max?”
“I honestly believe I thought of everything. I programmed enough supplies to prepare me for whatever world I find myself in. I want this adventure, Gina. Please tell me I have your blessing. I’m going either way, but it would be-”
“Yes, Skylar,” she interrupted, “I’m sure you really would go either way, so why not take my blessing with you? Seriously, take care of yourself. I won’t even tell Mom and Dad that I talked to you. Go on this adventure if it’s what you truly want. You’ve planned it for what - almost a decade? But I’ll tell you what - if you don’t come back, I’ll never forgive you.”
He laughed and typed the final commands into the computer.
“I’ll come back. I promise,” he said as he rose from the little stool, “I’ve really got to go now before this machine starts without me. I love you, Gina.”
“I love you too, Skylar,” her voice cracked.
He held the phone to his ear, waiting to hear her hang up. Finally she did. He set the phone down on the stool and then rushed over to the machine. He connected two sticky terminals to his forehead and the other two to his temples. Then he placed a large sticky pad onto the back of his neck and snapped a purple cable to the tab jutting from the back of it.
The computer beeped its warning as he tried to get comfortable on the scanner’s bed. The machine surrounding him emitted a sound similar to a fan starting up. He laid his head back and relaxed while the machine began its scan of his body. As the scanner moved slowly down the length of him, a thought entered his head reminding him of an important item he forgot to grab from the shelf. This item was a failsafe that allowed him to return in case of an emergency. This item was obviously not going to be making the trip with him which meant he would be stuck in the future indefinitely or at least until Monday – almost 30,000 days in the future by his reckoning.
His heart skipped a beat at this thought, but nothing could be done about it now. The scanner had finished its duties and now the electrodes attached to him were receiving information from the computer and relieving his body of all control. The data passed before his eyes and he caught a glimpse of something horribly wrong with the numbers. One digit was different and that digit may have been the difference between life and death.
Skylar swore that he typed 2110, but apparently the computer had somehow read the 2 as a 3. One digit – he thought as he closed his eyes and succumbed to the darkness.
2
Winter World
Skylar collapsed onto the cool, soft bedding beneath him. He slowly opened his eyes and stared blankly at the white pillow near his face. The sound of children laughing rose to his ears from somewhere in the distance.
Maybe he had been sleepwalking or perhaps he was still asleep even now. Maybe he was twisted in the webbing of a dream that wouldn’t release him. Whatever the situation, he was confused and worried that something was terribly wrong. It sent a shiver down his spine.
He lifted his head from the cold pillow and realized the chill wasn’t caused from fear at all. It was caused from the powdery snow he had been laying in. This glittery, virgin snow was surrounding him in all directions. He dug his hand into the icy cold bedding and lifted a small handful of the loosely packed snow to his face. For reasons unknown to him, he touched it to his tongue then dropped the rest to the ground.
He stood up and brushed the powder from the unfamiliar tan jacket he was wearing and the curious brown cargo pants. He felt a weight tugging on his shoulders and realized in that moment that he was wearing a backpack. This brought further questions to his mind.
He spun around and stared at the smooth fields of immaculate snow. There were no footprints, tire tracks, or anything at all to provide a clue as to where he came from. He located a dense forest about a hundred yards behind him. To his left, he discovered what could only be described as massive stalagmites shooting upward toward the cloudy sky. A tall, snow-dusted pine straight from his mother’s Christmas village stood lonesome only a few yards to his right. That was when he noticed something very odd. There were no sounds. The world was silent.
Where were the children he heard laughing just a moment ago? Surely they would have left some footprints. Were they simply a leftover remnant from one of his dreams? He was certain that he heard them, though. He was able to distinguish at least one girl and two boys. He shook these ponderings from his head as he stared off toward the horizon.
Where were the dogs, the squirrels, and the people? Where were the airplanes, the cars, or the birds? He listened attentively but heard nothing whatsoever. Not the whistle of a train in the distance or the rumble of a truck passing on the highway interrupted his frightening peace.
The sky was overcast, so he couldn’t tell where the sun was currently hiding. He assumed it was concealed directly overhead where the clouds appeared to be slightly brighter than the distant horizon.
“A dream?” he muttered, “Yes, I was sleeping and… and…”
He tried to latch on to his most recent memory but couldn’t find anything to grasp a hold of. It was then that he decided to shrug off the backpack and drop it to the snow by his feet. He knelt down and unzipped the sturdy, leather pack. Sitting right on top as he peered inside was a small silver handgun. He lifted it gently from the bag, making sure to keep his finger away from the trigger. It was surprisingly light for something so deadly.
“Am I a criminal?” he asked himself, easing the gun back into the bag.
He sifted through the bag and discovered a pair of socks, four bottles of water, a box of granola bars, three bags of peanuts, a large hunting knife, a smaller Swiss Army knife, three lighters, a case of bullets, two pairs of underwear, a wool stocking cap which he immediately put on, a pair of gloves, a first-aid kit, a few bottles of pills, a
pair of jeans, and a shirt. It was the box of granola bars that finally jogged a memory. Instead of a brand name being imprinted on the box, it simply read “Remember the Scan”.
This reminded him of the story of the world’s first time traveler. Whenever that sixteen-year old kid shifted through time, he always awoke dazed and confused. This was discovered to be a side effect of having your entire being scanned, converted completely into digital code, then transmitted through a microscopic wormhole into the past or the future, and then reconstructed. The feeling was similar to waking from a deep, drug-induced sleep. Skylar had expected this when he had sat down to program his Piggyback.
The Piggyback… his leather backpack and all the clothing in the bag were created by him, he recalled. The CT scan only takes care of converting the human body, mind, and soul into code, but a good programmer is required for creating the Piggyback. This is the name given to all the supplies, clothing, and anything else the traveler wishes to take with them. This code is “piggybacked” onto the stream of code that defines the traveler himself. The whole stream of code just needs to be short enough to make it through a microscopic hole that only stays open for 1.7 seconds.
“I really made it to 2110. No… I saw the number,” he muttered, “3110?”
He looked around in trepidation of his surroundings. It was cold, quiet, and for lack of a better word, dead. With the exception of the odd laughter that he may or may not have heard, the world had been dead silent since he arrived. After living in an environment of constant noise, be it cars, planes, speech, radios, birds, or dogs, the silence was deafening and a little frightening.
“HEY!” he shouted to the world.
Nothing. Not even an echo.
“Hello?” he hollered.
He hefted the backpack from the ground and looped the straps over his shoulders. The world still offered him no response, so he decided to find out why. As he turned around, he pondered the answers he could find in the woods. But even if he stumbled across a hungry raccoon, what answers would be offered, he thought.
Event Horizon Page 1