A Matter of Time
Someday Yesterday will be a Thing of the Past
Hello Friends,
Quantum scientists have devised an experiment to send a particle back in time.
Here is a quote from the article:
"…it raises the possibility of being able to dispatch, if not people, then at least messages in the form of quantum signals, back in time."
Here is a short-short story using this as a prompt:
Success!!!
"I don't think you should do it," Henson, the tired lab assistant, said, poring over Darling's notes. He snapped the pages in the tattered journal back and forth, looking for something specific to back-up his disapproval.
"I'm telling you, it will work," Darling said. The chief scientist was exhausted. He had been working endlessly and having the same argument with Henson for weeks.
"That's not the point," Henson said.
"What's the point, then? If we can do it, we should."
"You don't know what you're playing with here," Henson insisted.
"Of course I do. It's a simple message. I've built the transmitter. As soon as I turn on this receiver, I will see something that I sent myself from the future. Think of that."
"I am thinking of that," Henson said.
"Did Watson tell Bell not to do it?" Darling said, adjusting a tiny lever on the device sitting on the workbench in front of him.
"Bell wasn't playing with time."
"Neither am I. In the quantum realm, it's all just math and probabilities."
"I can't be a party to this. You messing with the fabric of the universe. I quit," Henson said.
Darling hardly noticed Henson walking towards the door as he flipped the switch, activating his receiver. It sputtered to life. A message scrolled across the LED display:
"Don't let him leave."
Darling looked up.
"Stop!" Darling said.
"What?" Henson said, standing at the threshold.
"I don't know. Hold on."
A new message scrolled across the receiver's LED screen:
"Kill him."
"Wait," Darling said, looking frantically around the room.
"Did you get a message? What's it say?" Henson said, taking a step towards Darling.
"Stay there!" Darling said, sliding along the workbench towards a large Phillips head screwdriver.
"What are you doing? Let me see what it says."
"No!" Darling grabbed the tool and lunged for Henson.
The assistant avoided the initial attack, but not the following one. Darling stabbed Henson in the shoulder and quickly struck three more times, once to the stomach, then twice to the side. Henson slid down to the floor, clutching his wounds.
"Why?" Henson said to Darling, standing over him.
"It's what the message said to do."
"Who? Who sent the message?"
The receiver sputtered to life with a new message:
"Kill Darling."
Darling stared at it, and then down at Henson, whose breathing had begun to shallow.
"I don't know. You, maybe," Darling said. He turned to look at the receiver.
Another message appeared:
"Lotto: 2 3 17 33 53 58 14."
He brought the heel of the screwdriver down on the receiver, shattering the LED display. Darling threw the bloody tool across the lab. He stood motionless over Henson as his assistant took his last breath.
On his way to the liquor store, Darling passed the firetrucks racing to the building where his life's work was going up in flames.
Happy reading and happy writing!
David