October 20, 2023

There is a very real place that stories like this come from. As long as I can remember, there has been conflict in the Middle East. I genuinely do not believe there will ever be peace in that region. As long as parents bring their children up to hate others, there can obviously be no peace. Without further ado, I give you Impact.

Artwork by Adobe Firefly

Impact

The frustration on Lyle Starforge’s face could not be avoided. He was projecting his anger without saying a word. The mess hall aboard the small mining colony ship had room for about ten people at any given time. Right now, there were five and all of them could feel Lyle’s rage. Don Reyes didn’t mean to have the news channel on when Lyle walked in because he knew how angry he got. It was just dumb luck that his finger came off the remote just as the SNN or System News Network broadcast was starting.

There was more fighting in the middle east. This time six Israeli children and four Palestinian children had died. Lyle wasn’t jewish and he certainly wasn’t Palestinian but he knew tragedy and senseless death when he saw it. This conflict has been going on since long before he was born and there seemed to be no end in sight. The moments of respite were indeed short-lived and then as if on a time schedule, more death, destruction, and war.

Lyle’s last name wasn’t really Starforge. He had it legally changed when his company started making real money. Smith just seemed too generic. Starforge, now that seemed like a strong powerful name.

The mess hall intercom beeped as if purposely used to cut the tension that seemed to be on the rise since the news of the conflict was reported. The color seemed to be returning to normal in Lyle’s face as he picked up the handheld phone from the wall. “Yeah, what is it?,” he asked. “FG-778 is out of alignment sir. If we don’t go out there and correct it’s course it will get pulled into the moon’s gravity.” A female voice reported. “How much time until point of no return Jamie?,” he asked. “About 30 minutes sir.” Lyle looked down at his watch. He wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter. If another asteroid were to hit the moon, there would be hell to pay. “I’m on my way.,” Lyle said.

It took about five minutes for Lyle to make his way to the shuttle bay. He wouldn’t be taking a shuttle but the K7s were stored here and they were meant to deal with this problem. Lyle strapped himself in and closed the hatch. A minute later, he was racing for asteroid FG-778.

He matched the rotation and began calculating the desired outcome. The math wasn’t too complex but he needed to be sure. There had been five moon strikes since his operation was given legitimacy by the United States government. He was reminded of just how illegitimate his business could become with every moon strike. The U.S. had plans to build bases on the moon and they didn’t need any more craters then it already had. After a few minutes, Lyle checked the calculations and hit the control to begin the programmed burn and nudge to get the asteroid to just the right spot so that his team could pick it up later for mining.

Overall, the operation took roughly an hour from start to finish. It was on the trip back to the ship when Lyle started thinking about the middle east again and all of those children that had been murdered. He felt like most other people felt about it. Helpless. Powerless to do anything about it. It was on this line of thinking that Lyle had his epiphany. He wasn’t powerless, unable to do anything about it. The world had been thinking about this all wrong. He glanced down at the Earth below him.

The whole conflict in the middle east could be boiled down to this one thing. At least, in his mind. You basically had two children that want to play with the same toy. They both can’t have it. They are also having trouble sharing it. Each one is claiming that they own it and neither one is willing to compromise. Perhaps, one of them lets the other play with it for a while but that eventually gets old and the child wants the toy back. So, they fight over it again and again.

In Lyle’s mind, there was really only one solution. Take away the one thing that everyone is fighting over. He began scanning the immediate area for potential solutions. The light on the communication panel started blinking letting Lyle know that he had an incoming transmission. “Yes Jamie. What is it?”

“I just wanted to confirm that FG-778 is back on a good course sir. Thank you for taking care of that.,” Jamie said. “All in a day’s work kiddo. I’m heading back shortly. I’m just running some numbers. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll keep an eye on things.,” Lyle said. “Oh, thank you sir. Don’t mind if I do. I’ll catch up with you later.” Lyle smiled. “See you later in the mess hall.” He pushed the button to end the call and went back to his calculations.

Onboard the mining ship, Jamie made her way out of the command center and down the passageway towards the mess hall. Did Lyle just flirt with her? She was attracted to him in the way that women with little money are. He would be a catch for sure. Lyle just never seemed to be interested in that sort of thing. Ever since his divorce, he became much more distant. The divorce may have been inevitable. After the death of his son, there was very little that Kyle Smith cared about except his work. Everyone told him that he would be alright and things would get better over time. Time heals all wounds, and all of that. But, the pain was still there. Jamie would have to understand that. He seemed to be opening up and she would take this as an opportunity.

Thirty minutes later Lyle began to make his way down to the mess hall from the shuttle bay. He would need to make a quick stop in the command center. It was empty. Good. Red warning lights on the command center main console began flashing. Lyle smiled. He knew where Jamie would be so he continued to head towards the mess hall. He could hear the sounds of a soccer game on the view screen and mumbled conversation.

It was another hour until the soccer game ended. Lyle wasn’t really paying attention anyway. His conversation with Jamie was taking a direction that he hadn’t wanted to go in a long while. He deserved to be happy. Maybe Jamie was the right one for him. Perhaps, exploring this direction was the way to go. Lyle looked down at his watch. “Could someone turn on the news, please?” He asked. Collective moaning ensued. “I promise not to get upset. I have a good feeling about it. Trust me.”

Don seemed to be the designated viewer remote operator so he pushed a few buttons and SNN came on. The reporter looked like the color had been forcibly drained from her face. Lyle seemed unusually calm. A small ticker went by at the bottom of the screen. The words death toll and a number that seemed to big to be true. Everyone in the mess started making noises. Some moaning, a few sighs, and silence from the one person who usually blew a gasket at news like this. Lyle smiled.

The reporter straightened herself in her chair. Fear clearly visible on her face. “The entire Middle Eastern region..,” a very awkward and lengthy pause, “…is gone.”

There have been lots of stories about the dangers of teleportation and futuristic travels. This story was something that came to me one night while I was struggling to fall asleep. I thought about bizarre things and this is what came of it. I hope you enjoy it.

Artwork by Adobe Firefly

The Portal Paradox

The needle settled around the high end of two hundred amperes. It usually settled around one hundred and fifty. Dr. Richard Orland scratched his beard and began the process of wondering whether or not using the transporter was safe when the amp (short for ampere) reading was so high. He never had an issue up until now. Richard and his assistant Reggie Riot had logged at least 500 hours in the system and so far, so good. Riot wasn’t his real last name. Richard was certain of that.

The portal or “transporter” was an amazing invention. Dr. Orland had tried his best to keep it quiet during the trials but word got out and pretty soon all of the details about this amazing new invention were all over the internet, newspapers, and Twitter. It was supposed to be X now but it would always be Twitter to Richard. Both he and his assistant had become prisoners in their own lab. They couldn’t go anywhere like normal people.

Perhaps this was a good thing. It gave them more time to test the machine so two hundred tests quickly become five hundred. The transporter was becoming proven technology. Who would he sell it to? How much would he charge for it? These were questions he didn’t care to think about right now. Dr. Richard Orland was a quiet man. He was never quick to raise his voice or a fist. Drama in any form was something that he walked away from.

Right now, Nancy was waiting for him in Paris. Normal transportation from London to Paris wasn’t too bad. Transportation using his new invention made the trip take mere seconds. He looked down at his watch. He had twenty minutes to step through the portal and meet up with his current love.

The amps were a bit too high and this bothered him. He had conducted all of the standard tests and even had Reggie go through them as well. Everything looked perfectly normal except of course, the amp problem. He could call off the date. The scientific part of his mind wanted him to do just that. Call off the date and figure out what the issue was with this glorious device. His heart, on the other hand, wanted something else.

Reggie looked over at Richard. “It’s your decision, boss,” He said. Richard returned his gaze. “It doesn’t seem to be affecting the tests. I haven’t seen Nancy in a few days. I’d really like to go.” Reggie waved his hands. “Well, its decided then. Off you go Doctor.” Reggie’s hand movements directed Dr. Orland towards the eight foot high ring in the back of the lab.

Reggie stood at the control console while Richard stepped inside. No more words spoken. Just a few computer beeps as Reggie punched in the destination and hit the red “Engage” switch with his right thumb. There was a quick flash and Doctor Richard Orland was gone. Reggie spoke to himself. “I knew this thing was good to go.”

The trip through the portal was usually instantaneous, but this time things seemed to take a bit longer. When the white light in his eyes faded, he was staring at two copies of himself. He tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. One of them was laughing while the other one was extremely quiet. He glanced down the alley to see another copy of him walking with Nancy.

He went to great lengths to keep the controls on this portal hidden but had someone discovered them and tampered with it? At the moment, he had more questions than answers. What was painfully obvious however, was that something was seriously wrong with his machine. The thought of being with Nancy quickly faded away.

Richard reset the transporter for a return trip back to his lab in London. He stood inside the ring. The machine beeped. The machine kept beeping with no transport function taking place. He stepped out of the ring and looked down at the console. The error message was something he had never seen before. It read, “Error 713 – Missing Key Components for Successful Transport.” What the fuck did that mean? He thought to himself. He looked up at the other copies standing near him. He didn’t remember writing that error message. Perhaps, an AI contribution from Reggie?

It only took him a few seconds to realize what the machine was saying. The copies had to go through as well. What kind of weirdness was this? He motioned to the other copies to step into the ring. He activated the console and joined them inside the ring. Once again, the machine beeped. The transport didn’t activate and a warning sound could be heard from the console. Richard glanced down at it. “Error 713 – Missing Key Components for Successful Transport.” Shit!

There was that copy that ran off with Nancy. He’d never find him in time. He just wanted to get back to his lab. He could take ground transportation but that would take longer than he was willing to deal with. He basically had 75% of himself if this thing actually did split him apart. He wasn’t sure what each piece represented. One of the clones seemed to be extremely happy about everything. The other clone just stared at nothing in particular without making any sounds. This whole thing didn’t make sense. The next idea that popped into his mind was to reprogram the console to accept the pieces that he had.

The two other clones didn’t seem to want to help him but that was ok. He didn’t need their help anyway. He logged into the console and began rewriting the security protocols. After “commenting out” a few lines of code, he was ready to try the portal once again. He looked at both of the copies before him. “I’m not 100% sure this will work. There is a risk but since we’re all the same person, I think, we should be fine.” He didn’t feel that way inside but sometimes you just had to say the words in hopes that someone or anyone will believe it. Even if that is yourself.

The clones stepped into the ring and after a happy computer sound, the three versions of Doctor Richard Orland vanished. In London, the other ring flashed a bright white color as a single version of Doctor Orland stepped out of the portal. “How was your date? That didn’t seem to take very long.” Reggie said. Doctor Orland looked around the lab. No clones. He looked back up at Reggie. “The strangest thing just happened to me on the other side.” He began.

It was approaching evening as the lone copy of Doctor Richard Orland stepped onto the sidewalk outside of Nancy Garnier’s small but cozy flat. He face was dark and emotionless. This city was full of possibilities. What shall he do next? He had no intention of ever stepping back into that portal machine. No. He had other plans. He looked down the street quickly in both directions. He was looking for something very specific. Oh, there it was. Thank goodness they light these things up. He began walking toward it.

Doctor Orland approached the police call box and picked up the phone. How old fashioned? He thought. He wasn’t sure how to activate the phone. Did it automatically dial? He knew how to operate London’s phones. There was a click and a voice speaking french. “Quelle est votre urgence,” the female voice said. Without missing a beat Richard responded, “I’d like to report a murder.”