Catastrophe

 

The music pauses, “Dr. Andrews is at the door.”

 “Huh, what?” Shaking the grogginess away, awareness crashes around me. The new room. The sofa. I had zonked out.

 The computer politely reminds me, “Dr. Andrews is at the door.”

“Uhm, ok. Stop the music, please.” Duh, the music has already stopped. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and sitting up, “Come in!”

Light spills into the room from the hallway for just a moment. Dr. Andrews' shadow thankfully blocks a good deal of the light. “Good afternoon.”

“Hi, Dr. Andrews.” I yawn and try to shake the grogginess away, “I’m sorry. I had a nap.”

He chuckles warmly. He says, “That’s no problem. We are about to start our orientation.”

“Okay. Uhm, I just need a moment to get ready.”

“No problem, I’ll be waiting out here. We have about fifteen minutes.”

Not wanting to be even more of a burden, I hop up and feel my way to the bathroom.

“Grab a lab coat from your closet; it’s a dress code standard, here.  I’ll wait for you outside.” The door shuts, banishing the unwelcome and harsh light from the hallway.

I sigh heavily before plodding to the bathroom to gaze at the monster in the mirror. Of course, my eyes can’t even make out any detail, just a broad, dark, and fuzzy shape. She must look crazy. Probably pale, almost translucent like a specter. My crazy white hair is bunched in the back; wild and messed like a banshee. Washing the traveling muck from my face leaves a refreshing feeling. I quickly brush on a new layer of UV protection makeup adding some basic color to my cheeks and lips. That should be good enough. I wet the brush and use it to tame my wild and still slightly damp hair into a respectable ponytail. Hopefully, they will deliver my clothes soon. I imagine the dress code does not allow jeans. Not wanting to make Dr. Andrews wait any longer, I grab a lab coat from my closet and leave the room.

The light in the hallway is much brighter than in my room. I slide on my dark glasses to protect my eyes. While ultraviolet light will burn me up, moderate light or brighter induces migraines. With proper makeup and dress, coupled with these dark glasses make it so everyone doesn’t need to adapt to suite my needs. I’m grateful that I can keep my room completely to my liking without inconveniencing anyone else.

Dr. Andrew’s familiar voice erupts, “Hey Erika, over here!”

I can’t help but smile at his exuberance. It’s remarkable for a guy his age; he must be nearing eighty. I suddenly feel my stomach lurch. Each step is bringing me closer and closer to a new group of people. Their voices blend into a dull undercurrent of sound. Rolling my cane around, the ground is sturdy. No obstacle detected. Proceeding with caution and letting the cane lead the direction of Dr. Andrews' voice, I try to mentally map the complex.

His impressed-sounding voice boasts, “You continue to amaze me, Erika.”

“Uhm, thanks?” This time his praise feels unnecessary. This is how I live my life.

“You know, I taught your father Physics and have been collaborating with him for many years, and now the next generation is here. Oh, what discoveries you will make, what things you will get to see and do.”

I cough awkwardly and then motion towards the group of other people around us. Dr. Andrews guesses my implied question. He spends a few moments introducing all of us to each other. Fifteen people will work and live on this floor for the next few months. Some of the people have done this tour of duty before, but most of us are newbies. A few people come up to me and make better acquaintances. I feel a little shy with their interest and attention. One lady, Shelby, has a very pretty voice. Her interest is in nuclear physics, and she’ll be attending graduate school in Austin next semester. I file her away as a possible new friend. As the tour begins to walk, she says the most interesting thing, “It’s so great to see another chick interested in physics. It feels like we are still a new breed. We should visit some high schools to get more interest in STEM.” This feels like a great idea.

Dr. Andrews walks along talking about the gym facilities. Everything is top-notch. They even have a “sun” room to let people get some much-needed vitamin D. The floor features a movie theater and arcade to help pass off-time hours.

We enter a large room that vaguely smells like dinners past. “What did you want to eat for dinner? The food here is excellent. I know you haven’t had time to put in an order for dinner yet, but that’s ok. Just remember that if you want to have something special prepared, that you let them know in advance. Erika, what do you like?”

“Uh… I… I don’t know.” Great, he put me on the spot. Going flush with embarrassment, “Just… You know… Normal food?”

Dr. Andrews probes, “Ok, well, let’s begin with protein. Beef? Chicken? Lamb? Beans? Nothing?”

I stutter, “I... I... Chicken?”

He seems satisfied at the minute amount of progress achieved. “Ok, making progress, how do you want it? They have a full spice rack.”

Trying to keep it simple, also knowing that I’m not being helpful, “Teriyaki?”

Probing for something more, “Ok, they can do that. Did you want anything with it?”

Relenting, “Uhm, just white rice.”

He patiently responds, “You can also order from your room and pick it up here or have it delivered. They’re pretty good at working with us here.” Interested murmurs are all around me. People are hungry, and the food does smell tantalizing. Dinner will be easier to decide on when it isn’t a quiz. I hear Shelby whisper beside me, “We are moving now.” My mumbled thanks join the chorus of comments.

Dr. Andrews begins his tour again, “As some of you know, you’ll be spending the next two months on this floor. We don’t allow residents to move to other floors. Each floor comes with its own security clearances. In fact, we’ll be splitting into groups now. What happens in your office is top secret. You won’t be allowed to discuss anything you do, learn, or discover with anyone besides myself and another doctor that you’ll meet later. I will give you specific clearance to speak with him when he arrives. You’ve all signed your NDAs, and breaking it is tantamount to treason against the United States of America. Remember the old saying from World War II, ‘Loose lips sink ships.’ Hostile agents could use any revelation. All notes and activities about your research will be recorded within journals provided by the office or on your network drive. This journal will be returned to the front desk for lockdown and to measure your working hours at the end of your shift. Each person is responsible for working eight hours per twenty-four-hour period at whatever times you like.” It’s easy to tell that Dr. Andrews is serious. There is no hint of mirth in his tone. Then he speaks to me, “And Erika, your station will have a braille writer that you can log in and out of every shift. The front desk will collate your work into a spiral notebook.”

His voice then returns to his more jovial tone, “Now, we’ll break up into our workgroups to explore our offices. Our returning residents will continue with their previous work. Each of the new residents will be working with one of them. We’ll have some grub after we check out our workspaces. Erika and Shelby, you will be with me. Let me show you to our lab, although it’s more of an office.”

 He continues to talk as we walk, “I hope you aren’t nervous. You see, you’re not going to have a rigid schedule. You can work what hours you want so long as the research gets done. Of course, we will have set meeting times on occasion. After a few years, you should have enough to compile your thesis and earn your doctorate. Then the real fun begins.”

Stopping abruptly. Dr. Andrews offers friendly instructions, “There will be a ramp with a rail in about five steps, give or take. I’ll follow you.” Trusting Dr. Andrews and stepping forward. After taking only five steps, the incline begins. Grabbing onto the rail and then going up the short ramp proves to be remarkably easy.

“The card reading panel is to the right of the door. You’ll have to go in one at a time, and you’ll both have to scan your cards. That keeps track of everyone in the room. Being in a room without signing in could result in a penalty.” By the tone of his voice, I assume that a penalty doesn’t mean a slap on the wrist and a time-out.

Shelby helps guide my hand to the card reader. A chipper, computerized voice says, “Welcome, Erika Ward.” I walk through the open door, and it closes behind me. I hear a muffled, “Welcome, Shelby Kimball.” The door reopens, and suddenly there are two of us in the room. Half a moment later, “Welcome, Jim Andrews.” Now we are all in the room.

Dr. Andrews mentions that there is no need to fear going into the wrong room. None of these rooms will open for the wrong person, and they belong to the other researchers. He says, “I’m sorry you can’t see the view, Erika. Shelby can tell you that it is quite spectacular.”

Shelby stammers with incredulity, “Is that what I think it is?”

Dr. Andrews chuckles in response, “Ladies, through that glass is our dear friend Mr. Desertron himself.”

I hear Shelby’s steps clank on the metal floor. She must be looking out of the window. Dr. Andrews continues, “Of course that’s just a small section of it. It goes on for miles and miles. One day you may see it in action. The light is so bright that even Erika may be able to enjoy it.”

I mumble to myself, “What exactly is it supposed to do?”

He sounds amused, “Its normal use is to accelerate particles to near the speed of light and then smash them together. There are some other uses. Harnessing energy from a contained singularity is a top priority goal of our research. I imagine we could create a singularity to do so very much. There could be an entire universe contained within. They could be gateways to anywhere in this universe or hypothetical multiverse. But no one knows, that’s the fun of it. With a singularity created, even at a micro-scale, we can analyze it with an open mind and not presuppose the answer. Always remain mindful that a narrow-minded goal can severely limit what is learned from any experience.”

This speech stuns me. I can’t help but say, “So, you intend to create a singularity in hopes of better understanding it. Creating a black hole on earth, couldn’t that kill us all?”

His voice stays steady, “Hmm, that’s highly improbable. Besides, there are far greater threats to humanity which already exist. We’re all well on the path leading toward our inevitable extinction. The way I see it, we must strive to understand the universe or die ignorant within it.” After a moment of thought, “But rest assured, we don’t do any of this half-assed. The proper safety protocols are in place.” 

Nodding, and yet they have us here. I lamely respond, “I’ll do my best to learn.” I mean, what else can I do? I’m just an intern, not that I will have much control over anything for many years. There is a good chance that I never will. “So, when do we begin?”

He chuckles, “We wouldn’t have accepted any of you if we did not think you could manage the stresses of the project.”

A thunderous boom followed by severe tremors shakes the structure sending me sprawling onto the floor.  An earthquake? What is happening? Pulsing red light intermittently illuminates the sterile white walls and white-tiled floor while a siren blares constant warning. Feeling terrified and alone, another blast painfully vibrates my bones, followed by even more extreme tremors which shake the facility. My arms instinctually rise to provide cover for my head. All that I can do is hope to not die.

The tone of the alarm changes and intensifies, forcing my hands to cover my ears. The futile action does little to squelch the sound. Even with closed eyes, the red strobe bleeds through my eyelids. Panic mixed with confusion and concern races through my veins. There is no choice, all I can do is angle my head towards where I think Dr. Andrews is and shout, “What’s happening?”