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Probability Dysfunction
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a little story I wrote for the Machine Malfunction
Contest in the TF-TG-Contests group on deviantart. I didn't win, but it
was a lot of fun to write and I'm happy with how it came out.
***
I grip the vertical and lateral function knobs as I work to keep the
indicator in the green zone. I haven't operated the plasma input on this
early prototype in years, so I'm glad that I'm still a ninja at this. I
just hope the directors at Ascendaca Corp understand how much they owe me
when this is over. No one else in the world could handle this job.
I glance at Sashi, with her dark complexion and shiny black hair
contrasting with her white lab coat. She monitors the field and gives
updates about size and density to Dr. Manning. Sashi Mishra is the only
one qualified for that job. The directors must be thanking their lucky
stars that she's available, though they won't remember it if we're
successful.
The most important member of our team, Dr. Louis Manning, stands tall
between us. He's still athletic and fit in his mid-50s. He takes in
Sashi's verbal telemetry and somehow making sense of it while rapidly
typing at the keyboard on the PAARRE while staring intensely into the
small monitor.
PAARRE, by the way, stands for Probability Analysis And Reality Reset
Engine and it's going to solve all of humanity's problems once and for
all. Not this cobbled-together early version that we're presently laboring
over, but a near descendant of one of the advanced prototypes currently
being tested in the field. There's no time to recall one of them for this
emergency.
Before us stands the object of our concern, a metal cylinder about the
size of a garbage can with an open panel in its side exposing complex,
booby-trapped electronics. This is a nuclear bomb.
Parties unknown, with the wherewithal to build a nuke, have somehow gotten
wind of our work and decided they don't care for it. Since the technology
we're working on would give anyone the ability to literally edit reality,
their reaction is understandable. Still, if Dr. Manning can work his
wizardry and shift the streams of probability so that this bomb and,
likely, its makers never existed, we can all avoid being vaporized.
Of course, we'll have explain to the directors what happened all over
again. Once we shift the probabilities to edit the bomb out of reality, no
one outside the field generated by the PAARRE will have any memory that it
ever existed because, technically, it won't have. Wrap your head around
that.
Everything is going as planned when something doesn't.
"Ah... Dr. Manning," I say. "I think we have a problem."
"Talk to me, Scott," he says as his typing speeds up.
"The injectors are acting up. It's getting harder to keep them in the
green. How close are you to finishing?"
"Almost there. Just need a little time to do some quality control. Sashi,
are you seeing any indication of this?"
"A few ripples in the field," she answers in her musical East Indian
accent, "but it is stable so far. Density is 88%."
"Good. With a little luck, we can..." He's interrupted by a buzzing and
then a flash from the main emitter.
My screen goes dead. An acrid smell burns my nose as smoke rises from the
cone-shaped emitter on the gray box beneath Dr. Manning's keyboard.
"Sashi!" says Dr. Manning. "What are you seeing?"
"The field is destabilizing," says Sashi. "It is at 82% and dropping. "
She is remarkably calm.
Sweat pours down my back. "We've got to evacuate!" There's no convenient
digital countdown displayed on the bomb, but it's definitely time to get
far away fast.
"The minor emitter will have to do," says Dr. Manning. He hits the Enter
key.
"The field is coalescing," says Sashi. "Density is dropping. 78%... 74%...
70%... 67%..."
More buzzing and smoke comes from the central unit. Everything goes dead.
A familiar tingling dances over my body. The bomb shimmers, becomes
transparent and then seems to evaporate into nothing.
"Well," says Dr. Manning, "that could've gone better."
I want to slug him. We should've headed for the hills instead of trying to
power up this finicky old unit. I start to relax as my body gets the
message that the danger has passed. We're heroes. We've saved the day, so
there's no point in whining about it now. I start unplugging the cables
from my module.
"You needn't bother with that, Scott," says Dr. Manning.
"What do you...?"
The cable in my hand becomes as soft as overcooked pasta and then melts
into liquid which dissolves away almost as soon as it forms.
I know what this means and I swear a blue streak as the various components
of the PAARRE begin rapidly melting into multi-colored puddles which seem
to sink into the floor.
Sashi and I look at each other. She turns to Dr. Manning and says, "What
is going on Doctor? How is it that we erased the unit itself from the
time-stream?"
He looks guilty. "That's no accident. You can call me Louis now. I
probably don't merit the title of Doctor anymore. I'm not sure what the
end result will look like as I didn't get a chance to fine-tune the
equation properly. Still, I believe the big picture is just as I intended.
I'm no longer a mathematician and I never discovered the Hyper Probability
Equations. I suspect you'll find that the Ascendaca Corp labs are no
longer there."
Sashi's eyes grow wide and I rush to the door of the warehouse and look
across the street to where the labs had been. I see an empty field with a
"For Sale" sign sporting the logo of a local realtor.
I turn back to Dr. Man... Louis and say, "Why did you do it? We were going
to save the world. We were supposed to cure the sick, end war, famine,
climate change, and everything!"
His expression becomes sad. "I discovered that the Board of Directors had
other ideas. They intended to become gods and enslave us all. This was the
only way to stop them. I built that bomb. I set the PAARRE to remove its
makers from the time-stream. You should know that you both unknowingly
provided me with very significant components. I'm sorry, but it was
necessary."
Sashi, the most unflappable person I know, now looks very frightened.
"Have... have you killed us, Louis?"
"Goodness no, my dear girl," he says in an oddly high voice. "I wouldn't
erase us if it could be avoided. We simply have new and different lives in
this timeline. I'd intended to leave us essentially the same but, with the
breakdown, the changes may be greater than I'd planned."
"We can start the project over," I say. "We can reinvent the..."
"We can't." He looks smaller now. "I'm no longer a mathematician, or, I
suspect, a genius. That part of me is gone." His voice has become
significantly higher.
"Oh Louis," says Sashi as she steps forward and embraces him, "I love you.
I hope you know that." Her accent seems less obvious. It's odd what you
notice when your world is dissolving.
"I know it," says Louis, who is now shorter than Sashi and speaks in a
soft, feminine voice. "I love you too, dear heart." The two separate and I
see that my former boss is now an attractive, petite woman in her
thirties, very tastefully put together in a light gray blazer with a
matching skirt, cream-colored blouse and two-inch heels. Her golden,
shoulder-length hair is neatly styled.
I've seen some mind-blowing things over the last few years but this leaves
me shaken. I don't know what to do.
"Well," says Louisa, "I begin to see what this timeline has in store for
me. I'm not a mathematical genius anymore, but I'm still a professor, a
professor of literature." She looks down at her delicate, perfectly
manicured hands with their dark red nail polish, noting a wedding band on
the left one. "My, my, I'm only thirty-two years old now. I've gained more
than twenty years and I'm now a wife and mother. My husband's name is
Collin and I'm truly in love. How remarkable."
Sashi is shrinking and is now shorter than Louisa. Her hair and skin are
growing rapidly lighter as her lab coat balloons around her. She says, in
a high voice with no trace of an Indian accent, "That's so cool, Mom!"
"Yes, dear, it surely could've been worse. I'm very pleased."
For reasons that I don't understand, I feel like I've always known these
people.
Sashi continues getting smaller and her clothes begin shifting. My darkly
beautiful and brilliant colleague is transforming before my eyes. Within
moments, nine-year-old Sarah Christiana Rieder stands next to her mother,
Mrs. Louisa Leigh Rieder.
The little girl has blonde hair and blue eyes like her mother. She wears a
pink shirt with Minnie Mouse smiling from it, light blue leggings covered
with multicolored butterflies and pastel blue sneakers. A pink handbag,
with a picture of Barbie on it, hangs from her shoulder. Sash... Sar... my
old colleague is gone.
"I know you remember your previous self, sweetheart," says Louisa. "So I
want to tell you, now, that I'm sorry you lost your heritage. I didn't
intend that to happen."
"It's okay, Mommy," says Sarah. "I don't remember Hindi, but I kinda think
I have a little someplace in me."
"You should have an easy time relearning it if you wish," says Louisa. We
were inside the field. Our memories have only changed to fit these new
identities. I remember my other life as a man, though I don't recall
exactly how it felt and all those numbers and equations are just a blur to
me now."
"That's so weird, Mommy."
Louisa crouches down, in that way women do when they're in high heels and
a pencil skirt until she's face-to-face with her daughter and says, "It
doesn't matter anymore."
"It doesn't matter?" I say as I step toward them. "My life's work for the
last ten years has just been obliterated and I still don't know where I'm
going to end up." Outside the field, everything was changed almost
instantly, but I have no way of knowing how long it'll take me to be
absorbed into this reality.
Louisa looks up at me. "It was necessary, Scott."
"I don't know that. For all I know..." The world seems to shift around us
in a disorienting swirl. When my senses return, we're no longer standing
in that empty warehouse. We're in a suburban backyard with a set of swings
and a slide.
"We're home!" says Sarah. "That's so cool, like we teleported or
something."
Louisa looks down at a sleek, silvery watch on her thin wrist. "I've just
come home from work. I guess that explains why I'm dressed this way. The
babysitter has just left."
Sarah wrinkles her nose. "Aw, Mom! I don't need a dumb old babysitter."
"That's not for you to decide, young lady."
Sarah sticks out her tongue and pulls a face.
A tinkling sound comes from Louisa's purse. She draws out her phone, looks
at the screen and says, "It's Collin. I need to take this." She turns and
heads into the house.
My former colleague and I are alone in a backyard that seems oddly
familiar, which is puzzling. I understand why Louisa and Sarah are here,
but why am I?
Sarah gives me a knowing, secretive grin as she says, "Whatcha wanna do?"
"What do I want to do? What can I do? "I'm not sure," I say.
"Wanna swing?"
"Okay, whatever."
Lost in thought, I hardly notice walking to one of the little plastic
seats and sitting down. It's barely wide enough for me to squeeze onto it.
Both Louisa and Sarah know all about their lives and I seem to know about
them too. Knowledge of my own life, in this reality, should come to me
soon.
As I swing back and forth, the seat fits better. I still have all the
memories of my old life. What I don't have is enough know-how to reinvent
the PAARRE, so that's out. Even if I am the exact same person, I can't
work at the same place. Ascendaca Corp is gone.
I'm annoyed because my feet can barely reach the ground and I'm having
trouble keeping the swing going. Sarah gives me a push which makes me
happy. I might as well accept that my old life is gone. I'll remember the
new one sooner or later. Right now, the swing is lots of fun and it's hard
to think.
Sarah pushes me really high and I start getting scared. That's not very
nice. "Stop it!" I shout. "It's too high! Stop it you poopy head!"
"What's the matter?" says Sarah. "You chicken?"
I clutch the chains hard in both hands. The seat is so wide I would fall
off if I didn't. "Stop it, you big meanie!"
Sarah grabs the swing and I stop so fast I almost fall down. I slip off
and look up at Sarah. "What did ya do that for?"
Sarah looks down at me and says, "Don't you wanna swing?"
Just because she's nine doesn't mean she gets to be so mean to me. I'm a
big girl. I'm almost three and... It hits me. I look down at myself.
"What's the matter, squirt?" says Sarah.
I'm wearing a purple shirt with lace on the bottom, dark purple pants and
pink sandals with purple flowers on them because purple is the prettiest
color in the whole wide world. I know without looking that my eyes are
blue, my blonde hair, which is in pigtails, is darker than Sarah's and
Mommy's. I look at my thin little arms and the purple nail polish on my
tiny fingernails.
"Wanna swing more?" says Sarah.
I get scared now. "No! This is wong... I mean wrong. I can't be a little
guwl, I mean girl" I need to talk right.
Sarah frowns. "But it's okay for me to be a little girl?"
"But you wew a guwl befowe. An you din get as little as me." There.
Talking right isn't so hard.
She crosses her arms. "Those are the breaks, I guess."
"But, Sawah, you dun undowstan! Um not asposta be Sophie May Wiedew. Um
asposta be... a... a gwon man named... ah... Scootie. I wuz a... ah...
physi... phiz... a fizzy-sit!"
Sarah frowns more at me. "And I'm supposed to be a super-duper scientist
from India. Now I'm too little to even be a cheerleader."
"But... But..." My bottom lip goes out and my eyes get all wet and drippy
and I cry real loud.
Over my crying, I hear Sarah say, "Poor little Sophie. I guess it must be
hard being so tiny." Her arms go around me.
After a while, I don't cry as much and say, "Dun... dun wanna be little.
Wanna be big."
Sarah moves back. "You just hafta grow up again."
I rub my fists in my eyes and say, "Wanna be big now!"
"Do you wanna be a boy like before?"
I think hard. "Boys aw yucky."
She laughs. "Yeah, they're kinda gross, but I sorta think we might like
them okay when we grow up."
I'm all mixed up. I don't like it.
Sarah looks at me. "What do you really want, baby sister?"
I think as hard as I can. "Want Mommy!"
"Okay, but first I wanna show you something." She pulls some folded paper
out of her Barbie purse. She opens it. It has lots and lots of squiggles
on it.
"What dat?" I say.
"Those are numbers and, I think, mathematical symbols and stuff."
I think I knew this before. "What aw... um... matho-maco sybos fow?"
"I'm not sure, but grown-up me wrote this and I always had it with me
because I thought it was important and it didn't disappear like all my
other old stuff. I'm gonna hide it in my room until I grow up and I can
understand it again. It's got lots of numbers and numbers are fun."
"Can I undowstan too?" I want to be like Sarah.
"Maybe. I think we both have lots of stuff left over in our heads that we
can remember when our brains get old enough."
"Um smawt!" I say. I puff out my stomach.
She smiles at me. "I bet you're real smart for a two-year-old."
"Um awmost thwee." I'm big. I don't need a diaper. I just need a pullup
for sleepy-time accidents.
"You used to be lots older," says Sarah.
"Uh-huh," I say. "I can... um... wemembow." I close my eyes hard to
remember being big. I could do lots of hard stuff. I could go pee-pee
standing up. I can't remember how to go pee-pee when I'm standing up. I
was smart.
"Wanna play on the slide?" says Sarah.
"Yay!" I say. I get on the slide. I get scared. It's far down. Sarah helps
me off.
"Wow. I think you just got a bit younger again, squirt. You must be done
now," says Sarah.
"See Mommy?"
Then, Mommy comes right out the door.
I run to her. I yell, "Mommy!"
"Hi, honeybun," says Mommy in her sweet voice. Her sweet voice makes me
happy. She scrunches down. She opens her arms wide. I run into them. She
puts her arms all around me. She picks me up.
I hug her real hard and say, "Love you, Mommy."
She says, "Aw, I love you too, sweetheart."
I shiver with happy. She carries me into the house. Sarah follows behind
us. Mommy's walking rocks me. I like it. I yawn.
"Someone needs a nap," says Mommy.
"Dun wanna nap," I say. My head is heavy. I lay it on Mommy's chest. My
eyes are hard to keep open. I'm happy. My eyes close. I'm safe with Mommy.
I like being a little girl sometimes.
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