You thought that you were the bomb, yeah, well so did I. -- Tori Amos, Spark

Fiction: On My Way

Another thing I wasn’t planning. SPACOM 3 was just supposed to be a cute cameo in a story that was mostly about Zeke’s struggle with the existential nature of living in a teen drama, and whether it was morally acceptable to date a fictional character. But I had so much fun writing them that I figured what the heck.


Lieutenant French tightened the straps holding Zeke to the partially-reclined chair in the middle of the drop ship, then placed the trigger in his hand. It reminded him of the buzzer from the quiz bowl game show he’d done back in high school. That had only been a couple of years ago, but it felt a lot longer.

“When you push the button, it will trigger a phased energy discharge. It’s based on K’lap’rr stunner technology, so there’s no chance of permanent damage, but it will stimulate the same part of your brain as a near-death experience. If our theory is correct, that should trigger the exotic matter particles.”

“Cool, cool,” Zeke said with a bravado he didn’t feel. “I shoot myself and hopefully it zaps this space ship back to my home with all of us inside. Or maybe it just zaps me personally back home, and I get to enjoy the view from geosynchronous orbit very briefly.”

“Low-Earth Orbit,” French corrected. “Geostationary orbit is much farther out.” She winced as it set in that this was not a helpful response.

“Why do I have to push the button myself?”

“We talked it out with Doctor Abermarle, and…” She wobbled nervously. “We’ve taken every precaution, and the theory is solid. But this is uncharted territory, and there’s no absolutes. Given that, we decided that it ultimately had to be your decision.”

Mon’a leaned uncomfortably close and coldly said, “As we are not enemies, it would be… Awkward for any of us to be the direct agent of your demise.”

“We’re coming with you, to who knows where,” St. George said. “So it’s not like we don’t have skin in the game.”

“Well thanks,” Zeke said. “And despite my sarcastic tone, I actually do mean that. You didn’t have to come with us.”

“Based on the fact that you were able to travel to Sparrow’s Folly twice while you were in your car, but the times you jumped outside of it, you ended up somewhere else, we believe that the exotic matter in your brain is influenced by a surrounding ferromagnetic field,” Lieutenant French said, “We’ve altered the internal magnetic field of the drop ship based on the precession of your unique quantum signature. If the theory is right, that should send you to your own universe. But there are constant terms in the calculation we can only estimate, so it may take us a few tries to calibrate it.”

“But that also means it might be hard for you to go home afterward,” Zeke said. “Why take the risk?”

“It’s your sunny disposition,” Doctor Waller said, standing up from the flight controls.

“No it’s not,” Zeke said.

“No it’s not,” St. George agreed.

“That is not the reason,” Mon’a added, dispassionately.

Waller shrugged. “Okay, it’s her sunny disposition,” he said, pointing a thumb at Roxy.

“What can I say? I’m cute as a button.”

“And you’re taking all this very well,” Waller said. “Most people on this version of Earth take a while getting used to the space ships and the aliens.”

“You get a lot of aliens in Sparrow’s Folly?” St. George asked.

“Once in a while for the Halloween episode, but otherwise, no,” she said.

“You are unperturbed by the prospect that your metaphysical nature derives from a work of fiction relative to your partner.” Those familiar with Mon’a’s speech patterns could tell this was a question.

Roxy shrugged adorably. “I’m nineteen. I think it’s pretty normal for a nineteen-year-old to think she’s the center of the universe. I just happen to have documentary evidence that it’s literally true in my case.” She squeezed Zeke’s hand. “I got your back, jack. Now or never. Ready?”

“I feel like I could stretch this out a little longer,” Zeke said.

“Just lay back and think of home,” she told him.

“Or failing that, somewhere nice. One of those fun beach shows,” St. George said. “Nothing too murdery. Try to avoid kaiju.”

“No zombies,” Mon’a said, neutrally.

“I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks.” Zeke sighed, and put his thumb on the button. “I hope this doesn’t hurt,” he said as he pressed it.

Then the entire universe was pulled inside out through a microscopic hole in his brain.

 

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