The first time I've really tried to write. Tell me what you think.
INITIATE
The first Prototype was finished on schedule.
It was unbelievable. So much hard work, so much sweat and tears had gone into building it. Many times they had done what supposedly wasn't possible. Many times they had defied common knowledge.
They say the best things come in small packages. That's not necessarily true. The best things come in huge, multi-million dollar grant, reinforced steel, a kilometer underground type packages. The kind of packages you're not supposed to know about.
It was a room, an unremarkable, 4 meters cubed room. In the center was a stainless steel Chair that had been welded to the bare metal floor. Attached over the chair, there was a large plastic and glass helmet, exactly like those elaborate hair drying devices you might find in a barbers. Attached to the left arm of the Chair was a small numeric keypad and a large black switch marked "INITIATE."
Technicians had been entering and leaving the room all day. Some came in pairs and had lengthy conversations about the ins and outs of the device. Some just came to sit in the chair.
Dill belonged to the latter group. He sat in the Chair, stroked it's cold metal arms, fingered the keypad as if dialing in a command. He even lowered the helmet over his head, plunging himself into darkness.
"You're not meant to lower the helmet." Dill jumped. Unfortunately the top of his elaborate headgear was only a couple of inches over his bald scalp, so when his head re-emerged from the bottom of the helmet, there was a large purple bump over his left eye.
"Ouch man, you freaked me out there! How did you come in so quietly?"
George, his colleague, chuckled loudly. "Your ears were cushioned by 5 inches of plastic. I'm surprised you heard me speak!"
Dill smiled at his friends terrible sense of humour, and stood up. "Let's get some lunch, pain makes me hungry."
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Back to business. Dill and George were Level 2 Technicians, meaning they got all the respect of a Level 1 Plumber, and only slightly better tasks. They'd both been working at the Next Sunrise Research Facility in Montreal for 4 years now, ever since they had left college and been born into this new world of futility and repetition.
They had both been assigned to Project Répéter 7 months ago, but never informed what it was they were working on. All Dill knew for sure was that Répéter was French for "Repeat," and that it was definetly some hi-tech stuff. "Quantum coils" and "Neurostasis pods" were a sample of some of the words mentioned in the blueprints.
George would have the privilege of finishing the device, which was simply a matter of connecting a large cylindrical machine, dubbed the "Brain" to the back of the Chair, or the "Body." It wasn't difficult, but it was menial and long. So the two talked for some time as George sorted through at least 70 different cables and tubes, connecting them all into the correct ports.
"I bet it's a time machine." Said George suddenly, breaking the ten minute silence that had fallen upon them. "I mean, what else could a Chronotic Destabilizer be?"
"And? What if it was?" Dill smiled.
"I'd visit the stock market and get me a one-way ticket to easy street, come on, wouldn't everyone if given the chance?"
Dill nodded opening his mouth to reply, but before he could George exclaimed;
"Finito! She is done! It's switch flippin' time!"
They both stood up and stared at the contraption. If anything, the addition of the large machine had finally made the chair look more like something that actually belongs in a bunker under a research facility.
"I know what you're thinking." Murmured Dill quietly. "Don't touch it."
"But Dill, imagine what it could do! For all we know it could give us superpowers or grant us our ever desire!"
"It could also be a new kind of electric chair."
"God damnit Dill, what kind of electric chair has a numeric keypad?"
"I'll give you that, but for god sakes that doesn't mean you should- HEY! Get out of that thing? Are you even listening to me?"
George was already switching the machine on, and bright lights on the sides turned the room an eery green colour. He jumped into the Chair and pulled the helmet over his head.
"Five bucks says you'll be fried..." Dill smiled sarcastically, and a chuckle echoed from behind the helmet. Dill wasn't going to stop George, he was too curious, and happy that it wasn't him risking his life.
"T-minus 3... 2...1.... BLAST OFF!"
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Dill slowly got out of the Chair.
"Are you okay? What happened? Did you see anything?" Dill eagerly stepped closer to George.
"...No..." George said, clearly disappointed.
"What? Nothing?"
"Musta pressed it like 50 times, there's obviously no visible effect."
George dragged himself over to the door, but Dill stayed put, staring at George, confused.
"You never touched it!"
"What?"
"You just sat there for a second, then got up!"
"Well you must have spaced out for about ten minutes, because that's how long I spent just pressing that big button over and over again."
They both stared at each other for a moment, then to the chair.
"Perhaps you should try it?" George whispered.
Dill didn't need much persuasion, he was a scientist at heart.
"'Kay, so I'll press it a few times, and you tell me what you see every time.
"Yeah, but just stick with 5 for now, we don't know what the numbers represent."
"If my eyes fall out in a few days I'm blaming you."
INITIATE.
______________________________________________________________
"-represent."
"Wha? What did you just say?"
"Stick with 5 for now because we don't know what the numbers represent?"
"You already said that."
"No I didn't!"
"Huh. Deja vu."
INITIATE.
_______________________________________________________________
"No I didn't!"
"I think the chair affected your brain or something, you just repeated yourself a second time!"
You're creeping me out."
INITIATE.
_________________________________________________________________
"-me out."
INITIATE.
__________________________________________________________________
"-me out."
INITIATE.
INITIATE. INITIATE. INITIATE. INITIATE.
__________________________________________________________________
"-me out."
"GOD DAMN IT, STOP IT! THIS ****ING CHAIR IS MESSING WITH MY HEAD!" Dill pushed the helmet off his head and practically jumped out of the seat.
"You see? All you did was talk about deja vu and sit there for a while! It changes our perspectives... I don't think we should mess with it anymore."
"Yeah, definitely! This thing is evil!"
"Man, you need coffee."
They gathered up the tools George had been using to prepare the machine and left, and 3 hours and a decaf double-choc cappucino later it had all been forgotten.
End Part 1.
