Voice On The Wind

“Is this going to be enough?” The familiar voice, what Alexi terms as his subconscious, asks several days later.

All the physicist has done since the last, underwhelming, test is pour over formulas and calculations from sunrise to sunset. Not that either really occurs, and even if they did they aren’t visible to him.

He’s barely slept in that time, which is why his eyes ache as furiously as they do right now. But he can’t stop now, he tells himself while rubbing them. He could but Doctor Baros refuses too. Yet, when he looks up, still in the lab, he notes via the clock on the wall that the hour is indeed late. Very late in fact as the time is three minutes past midnight. It explains why he feels as exhausted as he does. You need sleep, is the thought that pops into his head. He banishes it, angrily, a few seconds later annoyed by his brain’s non-compliance. It’s a distraction, he determines as he casts the thought aside. Sleep is a distraction? No, not sleep. My brain continually tugging me this way and that when it should be focused on the problem at hand, he explains silently with a shake of his head that no one is present to see. If anyone were present that might think him mad for having a silent conversation with himself. And yes it would be obvious that that is what he is doing because of his downturned facial expression and the movements, not just shakes, of his head as he goes back and forth with himself. He wishes he didn’t have to. In truth he sees little point in it and yet it seems his brain is determined to put him through this gauntlet of pointlessness.

“Burning the midnight oil aren’t we?” The familiar voice mutters out of the blue.

“Yes. Well it’s what I feel is necessary until I have this problem figured out. I won’t be able to sleep until I do. I never can.” Alexi offers in reply unsure as to quite why he feels the need to explain himself. He shrugs determining that it is a result of his lack of sleep.

“Have you made any progress?”

“Maybe.” Is the physicists’ succinct reply now that he has turned the majority of his focus back to his work. He can chat without properly thinking. After all, it’s not like the questions being posed are particularly taxing on his mind.

“Do tell. It might help.”

Alexi can’t argue with that as it really might help talking this through instead of trying to keep everything bottled up in his head. More than once his grandmother had joked that if Al, as she insisted on calling him, did that he might one day find his head would explode into a shower of confetti. As a young boy he’d found it hilarious to imagine that. However, as he grew older he’d rolled his eyes when those words passed her lips. That was during his teenage years. He still regrets actions such as those. Especially as his grandmother had never managed to see him graduate and turn into the man he is today. Though, he’d been much the man he is today when she’d still been alive. Back then he’d had a shorter temper and a lack of understanding that she meant well and only wanted the best for him, but that he needed to remember not to be so serious all the time and occasionally take a break.

Why do people when they become teenagers forget that? He never had come to a definitive conclusion to that. He could have read one. That was the less interesting to him but at least he’d get an answer if he did.

“Are we boring you?” The familiar voice then queries apparently bored of waiting for a reply that wasn’t going to come because Alexi had become lost down the corridors of his past.

Doctor Baros clears his throat, mildly embarrassed. He’d feel worse if he’d been in the presence of another person, but thankfully that isn’t the case, so he simply and quickly moves on.

“Right…” He begins unsure of exactly what he plans to say. “…from what we’ve surveyed the portal seems to suffer a wave at a certain seemingly random point. Once that happens the stability of the portal begins to waver. Aaaaaaaaaand…” Alexi stops mid flow. His hazel eyes meanwhile continue to probe at the data before him on the printout. He can’t read screens, not for any great period of time, at least not when he has to pour over data and formulas for hours on end. It gives him a migraine, a particularly vicious one that assails his ability to recall something as simple as his name.

“Wait…I’ve found something. The data, it shows a feedback loop.” Are the next words out of his mouth, which come after he pulls himself forward so that he is sat up straight in the seat he’s occupied for the last five hours without movement. It had been reclined and to be honest his considerations had been barely worth calling that. They had instead been meanderings. Purely to keep his mind awake but not seriously mulling over the issue or the data in his hands. That’s all changed now and he feels laser focused once more.

“What does that mean?” The voice asks.

“It means that according to this data the portal reaches a limit of necessary power draw. Once we exceed that limit and continue to offer it more it appears as though that causes the stability of the portal to waver and ultimately fail. That’s it. We’re over powering the portal. It only needs a third of the power we’ve been feeding it. Once stable it is self-sustaining.” The realisation hits Alexi slowly but once it does it washes over him in waves.

The first wave is surprise, the second is a speck of joy, but that speck quickly evolves and grows larger and larger until he can contain himself no more and roars, “I’ve done it! I’ve solved the conundrum!” Alexi’s voice is loud and it echoes around the room and himself. He quickly shrinks suddenly concerned he might wake someone. Then he remembers where he is and how there is no one within earshot that he could wake. Relief hits him next and sees him forget entirely his previous concerns. He won’t remember them again; they’re lost now and were unnecessary anyhow.

“Congratulations.” The familiar voice sounds proud. Then the pride is gone as the next words it utters are, “You should test your hypothesis immediately.”

Those words catch the physicist entirely off-guard and see him pause both physically and mentally. Only his eyes move, blink to be exact, and they do so over and over. It’s like they’re sending out a signal or code to some unseen entity. They are not but if anyone were present that might be what they would conclude. Again Alexi is pleased he’s alone. His quirks still draw unwanted attention from his colleagues. They aren’t and haven’t been privy to them, for the most. That is because in part he hasn’t been willing to reveal them to any of those in his team. At one time the mere thought would have sent him into a frenzy of worries. Something else Doctor Friden had helped him with when he’d pointed out that everyone has their curiosities and not just Alexi. Being told and then shown that had been a life-altering moment and had paved the way to a better future where Alexi no longer worried about how every second a familiar tick of his might be glimpsed and then see him dismissed. For what reasons that would be the case he’s never been able to say, but once he’d realised that both he and Doctor Friden had laughed about it.

“I can’t test it now. The team are asleep. Waking them would be out of the question with how hard they’ve been working.”

“You don’t need the team. This theory, these calculations, this new development; are all yours. Without you this project wouldn’t exist. It is them that need you, not the other way around. So run a test.” The familiar voice is more insistent now. Alexi would even go so far as to say pushy.

“That’s not true. I may have come up with the theory and done a lot of the early work on my own but there was just too much for me to continue doing it alone. Rome wasn’t built in a day or by one person.” Alexi retorts deeming it unfair to suggest that he is all that matters in this research project because it just isn’t true.

“Without a strong leader with ideas Rome would never have been built at all. You are that leader and like those before you can do great things without others to guide your hand.” Is the uttered reply that comes swiftly after. It sounds irritated as though Alexi has hit a nerve that side of him doesn’t want him to dwell on. But why is that? He doesn’t know. He thinks he should. In fact, he knows he should. Something isn’t right. He can’t put his finger on it but…

“To the lab!” The exclamation is so sudden that Alexi leaps to his feet in response. Yet, he cannot determine whether his response was out of surprise or in compliance to the sudden order issued. He hopes and thinks it’s the former. If it’s the latter he should definitely be concerned.

However, he makes no attempts to stop himself from walking hurriedly over to the cleansing chamber doors, swiping his ID badge and then waiting for the doors to open.

As soon as they begin to retreat into their recesses in the walls Alexi steps over the threshold and waits. He makes no attempt to pull the torso section of his jumpsuit from around his waist and then over his upper body and arms. He sees little point. He hasn’t left the lab. He doubts there is any contamination. At least not any that will impact this experiment and its outcomes. At the end of the day he’d spent months in that warehouse without a clean room and suffered no hiccups. It’s all just procedure, proper operating standards put in place by UN officials to reduce risk, to others. He understands why but this is his baby. He knows the risks better than anyone.

“This is going to be a new dawn.” The familiar voice is excited now, joyous might even be Alexi’s description as the jets continue to fire and bathe him in the cleansing gases meant to eradicate any foreign matter.

It’ll be enough, Doctor Boras tells himself as the doors ahead of him open. He doesn’t catch the strangeness, the ripple, he usually does. His mind is too focused on other things to pay attention to its absence, other than to note it and accept the feeling that something is different.

The physicist puts that down to him being on the verge of a new breakthrough and yet the felling will not evaporate. It doesn’t prevent him from striding across the circular room to the nearby bank of console however.

He looks down at the consoles and immediately frowns.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” The voice asks.

“I haven’t a clue how to start the process.” Alexi admits stumped by the sheer array of options before him, none of which are labelled in any sort of meaningful way.

“But you’re the brains! You must be able to work it out!” The voice replies stunned.

Those two statements, the latter predominantly, give Doctor Baros more than enough reason to pause. The voice, his, shouldn’t be stunned. Nothing that is an internal thought can be shocking. There are no surprises one can give them self.

A feeling of unease creeps up Alexi’s back causing him to gulp. His eyes meanwhile shift to the corner as though he expects to see something. He sees nothing. He really is alone, the only one present in this space.

“Who are you?” The physicist demands to, what he is pretty sure is, empty air. His words follow a long silent pause of consideration during which he has concluded nothing because he simply doesn’t have enough to go on to reach a conclusion that would suffice.

“I’m you. You know that.” Is the succinct couple of statements that are issued in response.

“No. You can’t be. If you were me you wouldn’t be able to be surprised in regards to something I know. You could act surprised but you wouldn’t be able to be surprised. It isn’t possible for someone to be surprised by information they have in the forefront of their minds and currently considering. The only way that is possible is for you to be someone else. So show yourself. Immediately!” Alexi’s voice isn’t as steady or sure as he’d like it to be. It’s quivering and betrays his unease. At any other time he’d feel like chastising himself but right now he determines keeping his mind as blank and empty as possible is the safest option. At least it is until…

“Oh, so you’ve become aware. I didn’t think you had it in you to be truthful. But I can’t show myself.” The familiar voice, which is not familiar to Alexi really in any way he now realises, states with a lack of intonation.

“Of course you can. If you have a voice then you can show yourself.” Alexi fires back defiantly as his eyes dart left and right.

“That’s not how it works for me. I can’t show myself to you. Not yet. But I know you want answers as to why. So start the machine. Feed the portal. Claim your answers. I know you want to. Indulge. Feed your curiosity.”

Alexi feels repulsed by the demands and yet he cannot claim that the statements are not true. No, I have to resist whatever this is. But who is it? Where is it coming from? Why did they mention the portal? Stop asking yourself these questions! If you don’t you’ll comply, is that really what you want? There is a period of emptiness as Alexi awaits the conclusion from himself. And it is himself. Not the voice. Ultimately, he has to admit the truth. It isn’t a surprise. It never could be because he already knew the answer. It’s yes. He wants, no he needs to know.

“That’s it. Accept. Start the machine.” The words ring like a chant in the physicists ears.

“I don’t’ know how.” Alexi admits frustrated but honest in his reply.

“Learn.” Is the blunt and unhelpful reply that he is met with. The physicist sighs loudly, his shoulders dropping as he does so. His fingers even twitch lightly as though they wish to stab at buttons before him. They don’t. Alexi stops them for a while and then his resolve folds. He lasted two long minutes but couldn’t hold out any longer. The first buttons he presses do little. The next series do a couple things. He quickly stabs them again to disengage what he started. They aren’t what he’s looking for. Finally he gets a readout he understands on one of the displays. It isn’t the one above the buttons he has been jabbing away at which forces him to crane his neck and stand off balance to properly assess that his inputs are what he thinks will stop the portal from becoming unstable and collapsing back to the size of a walnut. He quickly glances at the portal but determines that walnut is the wrong description of its size. An egg would be a better description he concludes as he forces himself back to the task at hand; recalling what some of the buttons had done previously he runs through a rough plan of his intentions and then executes that plan. The power flares. A warning light flickers. Alexi deals with it but is not swift enough to prevent an alarm from blaring. He pauses convinced someone outside the lab will have heard it even though it managed only a single ring before he muted it.

A minute passes without another sound, except for his own inhales and exhales of breath. He feels relieved by that and then with a quicker recalculation realises what his mistake was. He makes a mental note of how to avoid repeating it and continues with his slapdash version of an experiment to learn who it is that is talking to him. He should be afraid and knows it but isn’t.

Suddenly, the portal glows yellow; only around the very edge of it however. It’s like a frame of a mirror except ever fluctuating and sparking. It’s beautiful but entirely new to Alexi. Still, he can’t wipe the grin off his face or the concentration with which he is making mental notes of everything that he is witnessing. He can’t tear his eyes away. He fears if he does he might miss something vital and that would not do. Then there is a beep. It’s occurs in unison with a readout which advises stability. He doesn’t remember ever hearing the faint noise previously on runs but manages to peel himself away from the portal just long enough to survey that the oval shape has hit a stable consistency. So he throws another input command. This time the power is cut. The excess energy poured into the system that will ultimately flush that power back into the stations grid. A warning blip fires twice along with a couple bursts of red light. Alexi’s eyes go wide as he becomes convinced failure is imminent. But when the physicist looks down at the monitor he finds that the warning alerted to a brief dip that has since vanished. It was shorter than even the blip that had alerted him to its existence. In that moment he determines that parameters should be adjusted on a follow-up to stop that from occurring. Especially, as other more competent with this equipment members of his team would likely have aborted the run with that unexpected flick. Had they occurred he might have thrown his newfound discovery in the trash and moved onto a different approach. That could have cost me months! He hears the words in his head and they are definitely from him. Not that other voice. The one he had described as familiar until it wasn’t and all because of a sudden slip it made. The first. He thinks it was the first though he doesn’t feel confident enough to be entirely sure of that.

“It’s working. It’s working. You’ve done it Alexi. You’ve done it! The portal is open!” The voice, Alexi doesn’t know how to describe it now, erupts enthusiastically.

Doctor Boras looks down. He isn’t convinced yet. There could still be another blip. Stability could fail. Then he spies the timer and his jaw drops. Stability is not only holding but is at forty seven seconds and counting. He can scarcely believe it. Yet, there is no arguing with his eyes. A smile splits across his face and then he feels a demand from deep inside him. That demand results in the next words out of his mouth. “I did as you asked. Now show yourself. Give me answers.”

“Oh I will. But you must step inside.”

“Step inside? I am inside. What does that mean?” Alexi’s voice is an octave higher than normal but breaking lower, back to its normal pitch, with every other word.

“The portal. I’m on the other side.”

“What? No. That’s not possible.” Alexi begins to back away afraid.

“Don’t run. Don’t flee. It’s time for you to come and meet me.” The voice replies seconds before a short cackle erupts and is then lost on the air, which itself seems to change. Alexi can’t quite explain it as he tries to resist. Then he realises with a frantic left and right of his head that he isn’t behind the console bank anymore. Rather, he is at the portal. His left arm already reaching for its swirling black mass when he screams, “This is wrong!” He can’t stop himself. It’s too late. The tips of his fingers touch the rippling swirling black surface of the metre tall, half metre wide aperture that has been torn to bridge the gap from this dimension to the space between this one and the next.

“COME.” Is the final word that echoes around the room prior to Doctor Alexi Boras being yanked through the rift, the tear, the wound, the hole.