CERN immediately found itself compartmentalized, their new Top Secret label stamped above this occurrence. Until they could discern what this was, or was not, the nature of it had to be studied. Until they could determine if this was a perpetual threat or some uncontrollable benevolent occurrence, by necessity it would remain cloaked in secrecy, available only to key members at the facility. Of ten thousand people involved in the original project, only about two hundred and twenty-five had knowledge of or any access to it as it morphed into something else entirely. Those privileged to be involved were instructed to comply with a newly drafted, enforced protocol. Though there was no designation for it at the time, it eventually came to be known as The Flicker Project...or Flicker.
Almost immediately after the anomalous event occurred, new project directions and a subsequent cover story emerged on December 15, 2009. It was an experiment in ion collision to determine the nature and qualities of phenomena known as quark-gluon plasma. Theorized to have been in existence since the “early” Universe, still in existence in some compact form in current times, it was presumed to be more of a rediscovery of “The God Particle”. The method utilized for particle collision was designated ALICE and the “looking glass” it created appeared to be an example of the theoretical Einstein-Rosen Bridge. What was once merely a hypothesis would transform into reality before the eyes of a select few who could barely believe what they were witnessing.
Many attempts were made to recreate the doorway, yet, it was not until May of 2011 when they’d actually succeeded. The general research access was open to all but the results of that primary research were, in fact, secondary to this discovery. Flicker remained clandestine, flying under the radar. The area where this anomaly consistently reappeared was restricted, guarded, claiming it to be hazardous during testing. Nobody outside the scope of the initial team was allowed to observe, those who had been there since the inception of the covert project. There were only a few “necessary” people to inform from both operations logistics and security protocol. They were aware of what was happening but were not technically involved, not for the first two years, anyway. During that time, there were countless offline off the grid experiments to attempt to sustain the vortex, to keep the door open. Successes were slow but consistent. A minimal military presence was required and they wore civilian clothing, always on the scene should something enter through the doorway. Nothing ever did. Instead, once they could control the opening, their research team began breaches with robotic probes, cameras attached. All they saw was the facility but there was a slight time delay. It was calculated that eight seconds had elapsed, or, in other words, what they were observing was eight seconds in the past.
For the next year they tried all variants of testing to effect a change so to control and perfect the length of time the door could remain open. Measuring the collision speeds of particles, by increasing the intensity of additional magnets placed around the anomaly, they were finally able to intensify, specify and regulate the depth back in time and the duration of the opening as well as the geographical destination. That took a little more time to perfect. Time exploration of space would, no doubt require more power than imaginable. The initial trials made the quantum leap from probes to people in a relatively short period of time. Like a child playing with his father’s gun, it wasn’t long before the first shot was fired. Only then did scientists, all giddy with success, wake up to its stark reality. The Van Ruden incident was that gunshot.
Anson Van Ruden was candidate number four during their early trials. The first brave men were involved in a “step in step out” scenario which they did at various points and locations in time. Every opening of Flicker was designated for arrival in late night hours, so to lessen the potential for human contact with the one jumping through. The return trip was surprisingly simple. As long as the doorway remained open and the traveler knew its location then he needed merely to walk back into it. The portal was, on either side, undetectable to the naked eye. Only through thermal imaging could it be seen. So, it could be in Times Square or located in the center of a soccer field and no one would know it. The traveler need only remember where he’d entered to exit.
The third had taken the longest trip, two hours away halfway around the world on an uninhabited Pacific island. The fourth trial involved the candidate Anson Van Ruden, a physicist. He was scheduled to take a six hour trip. The doorway in time took a massive amount of energy to open but sustaining the opening required both proper and precise magnetic positioning and amplitude. Like thrusters on booster rockets of the Space Shuttle, Flicker used an immense amount of energy to escape the gravitational pull exerted from present time before it could freely float in the zero gravity of the past. This was a two-fold stress test of Flicker’s capabilities for depth of time and geographical distance. A plethora of run-throughs had to be made to see how long the door would stay open and how far back in time it would reach before the portal would “flame out” requiring days or even weeks to reformat the collider for yet another gauging of its potential limits. Thus far the farthest back the vortex seemed to remain stable, not in flux, was assessed through a series of probes and stellar computations to be the year 1947. Any attempts to probe deeper into the past was akin to a breaker box on steroids tripping off. CLEAR and RESET! These tests and experiments helped the think tank begin calculations on the engineering adjustments necessary to breach the current limit.
Dr. Van Ruden had a stocky, six-foot-three build. If not for his brilliant mind, he could’ve easily passed for a fifty-six year old lumberjack with his ruddy cheeks, flaming red hair, a beard and handlebar moustache. He was a trusted and respected member of The Consortium. His destination was also scaled and recorded for the farthest geographical point the quantum leap would reach. As a previously visited location during the last venture, a remote deserted island in the Pacific was a likely choice. It was widely theorized that when the amount of energy expended for depth of time was minimized the geographical opportunities would increase substantially, but repeated trials proved when the timeline was stretched to its maximum capacity their window of physical or global distance and duration actually narrowed. Anson Van Ruden’s trial was expected to go just as uneventfully as the others had, were it not for the fact that three hours into his excursion, he came upon a scared Japanese soldier who thought World War II was still an ongoing conflict. What ensued was a wild chase through the jungle, a foreign soldier repeatedly shooting at him despite Anson’s attempts to explain his presence as harmless in the six languages he knew, none of them Japanese, trying to convince the man the war was over.
As Anson reached the doorway he had pre-marked for his exit, he was attacked by the younger, though much weaker combatant. His rifle ammunition depleted, he went after the larger Anson with his bayonet, thrashing and screaming incoherently. As they wrestled Anson finally got the upper hand as the warrior was malnourished. Grabbing the handle of the blade, Anson twisted it inward, penetrating the soldier’s abdomen. As the pitiful soldier looked up at Anson in shock, his woeful life fading away, he tumbled backward, taking Dr. Van Ruden with him. The direction of that fateful fall carried both of them right through the doorway of the Flicker.
Both men came through the portal, crashing to the floor in a pool of blood. For a moment everyone froze, dazed and confused by the sight. Several members of the team ran over to them to find the combatant dead. Anson was physically unharmed, though obviously in shock. Four of the senior staff immediately decided to assist in helping him carry the body back through the doorway, making sure before and after that they did what was necessary. No physical evidence remained in the past of the altercation with someone from the future. The major issue: what other harm might have occurred? For several minutes everybody stood around staring at one another as if they had just broken their mother’s favorite vase in the cosmic parlor.
The timeline being disturbed, fears surfaced, beyond knowing whether (or not), one by one, each of them would begin to va
nish like those in the photo Marty McFly carried with him of his siblings and himself in the classic film “Back to the Future”. They were in uncharted territory. Who was this young Japanese man who just died sixty-five years ago? Was he supposed to be rescued, perhaps become a war hero? Go into politics? Was his destiny to become president of Mitsubishi Corporation or was he just an average “nobody” whose offspring was now a part of their coalition? Like Scopes, everyone watched everyone else.
Fortunately, not. Their next few days were spent feverishly researching his dog tag identification, a scouring of war records for him or his lineage to determine if his body was ever recovered and if any potential descendants were in existence. It was an exhaustive effort made through every conceivable resource at their disposal. Relieved that the lost, deceased soldier named Michio Tamakusuku had been listed as “missing in action” at the end of the war, it appeared Dr. Van Ruden had only hastened his inevitable demise, his quick death, a mercy.
A false sense of security was instilled in some while other members among The Consortium still theorized, wondering if their actions might have disrupted history. Could it be the reason why that soldier was never found? The conundrum was itself a vicious cycle. Nervously waiting to see if what occurred had altered them, if there was a “change” back in 1947 (due to their interference), there would be no possible way for them to recognize this change had occurred if it did. Most suffered a brain freeze over the incident, something akin to sucking down a Slurpee too fast. Many of them were burdened by it, over-processing a paradox, the intrinsic consequences of time travel as they reckoned and reconciled it against the advancement of science for the betterment of humanity. Some of them quit while others requested (and were granted) reassignment off-site, away from Flicker.
There would be no turning back, no stopping these opportunities for discoveries concerning the mortal mistakes made in the past. To determine what was accurately documented in history and what was not: it was too crucial and far too precious an opportunity to abandon because of one glitch. As the saying goes, history is written by the victors. It was the first time this technology was available for scientists and other scholars to peek through the looking glass of ALICE, to witness actual history as it occurred. Flicker was an altruistic endeavor. To dismiss a great gift, this virtual “microscope” capable of peering into the living history of humankind would be an abomination regardless of the inherent risks imposed by the discovery. For them to forsake their effort would be plain irresponsible, an act of wanton disregard for the human race. Events in history which may not have played out precisely as recorded in the annals of time could be exacted, clarified; rectified for future generations. An ability to leap through time was not a reckless endeavor. On the contrary, from the moment the ability to do so existed it became an imperative act of conscience. Poets know the truth. “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” (George Santayana)
Anson Van Ruden resigned from the candidate program and immediately began forming the Flicker Trial Consortium Oversight Committee (FTCOC) to ensure the establishment of strict protocols, standards, inquiry, as stringent training regimens, so every candidate was prepared, made fully aware of the responsibilities and risks involved with time travel. It was imperative that each candidate be trusted implicitly with such a sensitive and truly provocative discovery. For over a century scientists, theorists, university scholars, writers and, of course, film producers have posed the concept of the potential consequences of traveling back in time. The notion that the linear event of time could simply be redirected or changed by the slightest act of a time traveler became a concern of frightening proportions. The FTCOC made this the top priority on a long list of alterations built into this institutionalized think tank and subsequent program, rapidly expanding into the collective of councils and sub-councils, each committee created to serve a specific purpose.
The Ethics Council was the penultimate panel, the spearhead committee of The Consortium. Anson took the lead role, ensuring those chosen as candidates were of good stock, strong stable mind. Those selected completed a plethora of compulsory questionnaires and review forms from test trials to remove any doubts. Anyone void of moral fiber could conceivably, for purely selfish reasons, contaminate a process, jeopardizing the program. Whether due to a political persuasion, a religious agenda or otherwise, whatever the impetus, deliberately tampering with the timeline of the past to change the known present or the unknown future would be a disastrous, epic failure. If The Consortium let even one bad seed slip through the crack in its barrel the results of such an oversight could be catastrophic for humanity. Knowing these inherent risks, candidates selected would have to be approved by the entire group. The vote was anonymous and had to be unanimous for acceptance into the program, no exceptions made. It was the prerequisite of paramount importance. Essentially, the Ethics Council called all the shots. Their responsibilities were the most difficult, tasked with peering into the heart, mind and soul of another human being.
Until their discovery of the portal, the scientific community almost uniformly theorized that any devised method of time travel would require some machine that would likely have an adverse effect on any and all electronic devices utilized in its function. Just as the electromagnetic pulse in a nuclear detonation overloads every device impacted by it, a time machine would shut down the electrical impulses of the brain and body. A perfect indication of what mankind does not yet know about the Universe, the Flicker had no such drawbacks. It was simply a doorway. Anyone carrying anything could merely walk through it, experiencing no ill effects but there was concern for the return.
The Medical Review Board, staffed by several top minds in modern medicine, included specialists in world medical history. They, along with their support team, would be responsible for examining and approving all the candidates. History itself was one critical component, another valuable resource for the committee, providing documentation of plague and pestilence, epidemics, pandemics afflicting the world, pinpointing a specific virus down to the week of the outbreak then exactly where it occurred yet, viruses mutate. Diseases presenting during various stages across ages of human existence have evolved along with mankind. Of course not every calamity was chronicled, so it was a bit of a crap shoot, after all, the deathly serious guessing game of Russian roulette. To insure these landmines were avoided precautions were taken, yet there was no immunity anybody could build (like muscle mass) to guard against past plagues which ravaged Europe hundreds of years before these travelers were born. Ironically, having been born into a world currently riddled with disease had its benefits. If one survived the exposures of childhood into adulthood, chances were their immune system has sufficiently developed enough to provide a modicum of protection for candidates who proved worthy of taking the leap.
It was imperative that time travelers not deliver or receive any infectious illness. It was likewise essential these candidates comply with its rigorous medical training, expecting each to become proficient in triage techniques for “in the field” treatment. Should they succumb to any physical injuries they needed to have specialized skills, patching themselves up enough to allow for mobility to return to the portal location. “Medical” had to approve everything returning to the present, to make quite certain there were no pathogens or parasites hitchhiking a ride. Maintaining sterility within the project environment, going and coming, was the major focus of this department. The only cross-committee professional was one psychologist who was copied in on reports to the Ethics division. The mental stability of all project selectees was tested then retested for stressors, memory issues, phobias and a multitude of other criteria as the training occurred and progressed. Unlike the jump, it wasn’t a one-shot deal.
Then there was the Military and Security Committee. Their multitasking unit, this council comprised of civilian and uniformed representatives from twenty-two countries was a force to be reckoned with and a necessary evil. Dr. Van Ruden was extremely cautiou
s around them, quite clever in his design for the use and limits of this division of their coalition. The LHC project designated its home near Geneva, Switzerland. Although the bulk of underground operations of the particle collider was actually located beneath French soil, in fact it was always a neutrally controlled operation. This being inarguable, the committee could and did control the military’s involvement at every step without having to concern itself with the historical record of them muscling in on projects of science, soon thereafter weaponized. Anson and his constituents understood the necessity for occupancy and the scope of their reach. From background checks to surveillance capability, the on-site security specialists were there to protect key members and candidates. Anson believed there wasn’t a single member in the military department of the organization that could ever pass the ethics requirements they so stringently enforced.
The Debriefing Council was the most difficult committee to staff. This was the post-event group, those charged with sifting through a candidate’s documentation, given full access to the individual for all subsequent interviews and examinations. Anson wore a secondary hat, holding a high position in this office, his own Flicker experience leading him to request all debriefing materials be copied to him. Yes, even the military got their crack at the returning travelers. This was the only sector of the process which integrated representatives from various religious institutions. Considering history’s sordid recording of religious involvement in political affairs, senior members of the committee felt pressure to glean all information, impressions from the time travelers; a faith-based assessment of events from their own unique perspectives. Discussions were encouraged but only after travelers had been fully debriefed, cleared for discharge. It was presumed that atheists would make the best candidates, logic at the core of a belief that there is no God. Instead, having faith in the “scientific method”, they relied on it to tell the truth. Those travelers with a foundation in a belief system involving a specific religious affiliation could expect some fascinating, spiritually significant conversations with the theologians after the fact, sharing their moments of epiphany about the project as personal revelations.
In A Flicker Page 6