11 Dec 2007
Final Destination, Chapter 9: August 12, 3094
Today I am back inside the Spatial Mechanics Laboratory. It is a large, gloomy building, filled with giant spherical rooms with glassy, reflective floors. Much of the machinery here is entirely new to me, and almost all of it is badly damaged. There are two key pieces of machinery that are particularly interesting: the artilect and the zero-point energy plant. The lower levels may have more interesting things but I haven’t found a way to access them yet.
Al, fortunately, is not here to make sarcastic comments. I am pleased.
It really looks like their research did not go well. I’ve found a laboratory that was sealed off from the rest of the base due to some very strange radiation poisoning. I’m not really sure what happened in there, but whatever it was damaged the equipment in that room in an unusual way; I’ve never seen matter with quantum imbalances before. It’s way beyond my expertise.
I was able to find a few messages stored on the door that sealed the laboratory off from the rest of the base:
Warning: this laboratory has been declared extremely hazardous, and all access to this area has been denied. Please do not attempt to raise the door or evade the security precautions. A serious accident has occurred in this laboratory and quarantine must be maintained at all times.
Any further spatial displacement experimentation must be conducted at one of the laboratories on the lower level of this base. Please see Dr. Braxton for more details.
Posted by Dr. Harold Webb on April 22, 2814
Accident Report
On April 21, 2814 a crew of scientists, led by Dr. Henry Durant, were engaged in a series of experiments designed to test procedures involved with the creation of stable, small-scale wormholes. Dr. Durant was pursuing the construction of a small wormhole transporter and, under the supervision of Dr. Braxton, was transporting small items a few feet at a time.
During the experiments the transporter began to exhibit unexpected behavior. At first a soft yellow light filled the room, coming from no known source. A few minutes later the materials in the nearby storage cases began to transmute into an unknown element, after which the experimental transporter burst into flames.
When the team realized that something unusual was going on they immediately evacuated the laboratory. Another team came in to investigate the strange occurrence, but their readings were meaningless and the decision was made to seal off that laboratory.
The accident is under investigation, and the design of the transporter is being rechecked to discover what might have happened. A further report has been filed and is available from Charlie.
Posted by Flora Sumner on April 22, 2814
I suppose that’s what happens when you are attempting things way out of your league.
Charlie, I’m guessing, must be the nickname for the AI unit that governed the research center. I wonder if he was any better than Al; for all I know they could be related.
I was able to find a few biographical pieces on the people involved on the incident:
Dr. Henry Durant
Born: December 28, 2759
Died: —-
Physical Appearance: Black hair, hazel eyes, 5′ 11″.
Discipline: Has a doctorate in spatial mechanics with a specialty in high energy theory.
Occupation: Is currently a division leader at the Larson’s Folly Spatial Mechanics laboratory, where he is experimenting with wormhole transporters.
Security clearance: Beta Prime
Last updated: January 1, 2815
Flora Sumner
Born: January 19, 2762
Died: January 4, 2815
Cause of death: Food poisoning
Physical Appearance: Red hair, brown eyes, 5′ 7″.
Discipline: Has a doctorate in artilect mechanics and a minor in chaos theory and matrix stability.
Occupation: The system administrator of Charlie.
Security clearance: Beta Prime
Last updated: January 4, 2815
Artilect: short for “Artificial Intellect,” it is commonly used to denote a machine with an advanced form of artificial intelligence. People frustrated with these units and unaccustomed to their usage often refer to them as “artificial idiots”.
Last updated: January 1, 2815
I guess all artificial intelligence units really are the same.
It’s odd that Flora died just a few weeks before the planet was destroyed. That would be like being diagnosed with a terminal illness and then being killed by a bus. I guess it’s better than being burned to cinders by a giant wave of plasma, but it’s still strange.
The psychological impact of the impending destruction of the entire planet must have been enormous. Everyone on the planet knew about it, and they also knew that, barring a miracle, none of them were going to survive. In a very real sense they knew the exact moment that they were going to die, and that can’t have been a comforting feeling. How could you possibly live knowing that your entire world would be gone forever in a few short months?
Everyone definitely didn’t handle it the same way. I’ve found a few different statements dating back to that time period that show a wide variety of emotions; some people coped with it well and others didn’t. For example, here’s a note that was written by the technician involved in the laboratory accident:
I am so excited! I feel more alive than I ever have before. It’s as if I had been asleep all my life and am just now starting to wake up.
We were all upset when we heard that our home was going to be destroyed in one year and that, very likely, we would all die. A lot of people went into shock. While everyone knows that they are going to die eventually it’s not something that I’d spent much time thinking about. Knowing that we had all been condemned to death was frightening.
It really made me stop and think. What was going to happen when I died? Was I going to go somewhere or was that just the end? A lot of people these days believe that the universe is an accident and death is just nonexistence.
But not me. As far back as I can remember I had believed that the universe was created by God and that one day I would have to answer for the way I had lived my life. That didn’t bother me until I realized that I would be measured against God’s standards, not mine. I always thought I was basically a good person: I hadn’t murdered anyone or robbed any banks, and I treated other people pretty decently. But God said that any violation of His commandments – even right down to selfishness and lies – was the equivalent of breaking the entire law. Even worse, God did not grade on a curve. He was holy and just, and those who had sinned deserved its penalty: eternal death in a place called the lake of fire.
I was in trouble and there was not a thing I could do about it. There was nothing I could do to repay God for the times I had broken His commands. He didn’t care about the good deeds I had done, and no amount of goodness on my part could blot out my record. The only way my debt to God could be repaid was if someone who had a perfectly clean record took the punishment that I deserved, but there was no such person, and even if there was, why would they want to die in my place?
God, in His great mercy, found a way. He loved the world so much that He sent His son Jesus to become a man, live a perfect life, and die in my place, taking the punishment that I deserved. He died a cruel death and then rose from the dead, proving His power over it. I could be saved from eternal death if I would simply believe in Jesus. I had a choice: I could continue being my own master and die, or I could accept Jesus as my master and be saved. There was no other way.
Brandon always argued with this and said that he would bow to no one. I told him that what mattered was whether or not the claims of Jesus were true. If they were true then everyone should believe them; if they were lies then everyone should ignore them. Disbelief in things that are true carries a great cost.
A year from now the planet Larson’s Folly (our dear home) will become an asteroid field. If I am still on the planet when that happens I will be instantly killed. What happens next? I had believed in Christ for some time but I hadn’t seriously thought about life after death until these past few days. Jesus talked a lot about the afterlife while He was on Earth. What did He have to say about it?
When I die eight months from now (assuming we don’t find a way off our world) I will immediately go to a place that Jesus called Paradise, a word that refers to a walled garden. We usually call it Heaven, and it’s every bit as real a place as any planet or star in the galaxy. There I will live with Jesus until God calls an end to the Universe, at which point everyone will be judged for the things they did in life. Those who would not let God rule over them will be cast into outer darkness, which is a horrible place of eternal pain – but something else is in store for those who were saved.
Jesus did not promise to make all new things; He promised to make all things new. He restored my relationship with God by His death. My physical body will die, but He will bring this physical body back to life and make it incorruptible. When Christ rose from the dead His tomb was empty because the body that was slain was raised again. My tomb will be just as empty.
The universe will come to an end, but Jesus has promised that after the final judgment, He will renew it. When I die, I will leave this body and this place, but one day God will rebuild them both and I will return to live in them forever with my Lord.
What lies ahead of me is not a vague spiritual existence but an everlasting life with real trees, real streams, real streets, real buildings, and no crime or pain. I will be at the place I have longed for all my life with the Person I love more than any other. My life is not going to end a year from now; it will just be starting.
God didn’t invent death; it came as a consequence of man’s sin in the Garden of Eden. What Jesus did was conquer it and offer us a way to live forever with Him. I don’t have to be afraid. Each moment I am here is an opportunity to serve the Lord wherever I’m at, and nothing can take away my life until God is ready to bring me home. I have nothing to fear for He has taken hold of me and will not let me go.
I am excited.
Posted by Flora Sumner on July 2, 2814
The prospect of imminent and possibly unavoidable death did not disturb Flora, but not everyone on the base shared her feelings. Take the base chef, for instance:
I think this is all a waste of time, personally. I mean, come on! People have been trying to build a wormhole transporter for a thousand years; what makes Anna think she can succeed where everyone else failed? It’s a pipe dream meant to comfort people with weak minds. They’re never going to get a wormhole transporter built with enough range to transport everyone to another planet. Everyone here is going to die, and March 28, 2815 is going to be our doomsday.
The bigwigs have as much as admitted it. I heard last week that they’ve started building underground bunkers deep underground, and on March 19, 2815 they’re going to evacuate everyone to the bunkers and empty the base. As if bunkers will protect us when the planet itself is disintegrated! It’s all idiocy, no matter what Charlie says.
I say eat, drink, and be merry, for next year we die. Why bother spending long hours trying to do the impossible when you can spend your last days enjoying yourself instead? There is nothing beyond death but non-existence. All of us are products of random chance, accidents in a meaningless universe where there is no such thing as good or bad or God. Life is meaningless, and searching for meaning where there is none is a hopeless waste of time.
Of course, you’ll never get Flora to admit that. I’ll never understand how anyone smart enough to earn a doctorate in chaos theory (of all things!) could be stupid enough to believe in God. She won’t listen when I tell her the universe evolved; no, she says that God created it in six days, and she blathers on and on about how you can’t create information by random processes, and that no mutation has ever increased the genetic information in a creature. I don’t even try to argue with her anymore.
I’m convinced that Flora and her religious friends would have been kicked off the base years ago if it wasn’t for the fact that we can’t live without them. Flora is the only surviving expert in artilect mechanics that we have, and she alone can repair Charlie whenever he breaks down (which is increasingly often these days). I guess we’ll have to keep them, but they are so judgmental and intolerant. Who has the authority to tell me what’s right and wrong?
All I say is, just give me another drink and I’ll be happy. Who cares what happens tomorrow?
Posted by Arnold Brandon on March 25, 2814
I’ve been able to find a few things out about this Arnold Brandon. He worked in the base cafeteria, where I was able to extract this information:
The cafeteria for this base (lovingly known as Ulcer Alley by those who frequented it) has been shut down indefinitely, and everything in the baking area has been removed.
This area was shut down on March 19, 2815 by order of Arnold Brandon. At that time the chief cook Duncan Skene was relieved of his charge over this area and was evacuated with the rest of the base personnel (who appeared to be eager to leave). The cafeteria is officially unmanned, so if you’ve come for a bite to eat you might be waiting a while. A long while.
Posted by AI unit Charlie on March 19, 2815
Arnold Brandon
Born: September 27, 2774
Died: —-
Physical Appearance: No hair, gray eyes, 6′ 2″.
Discipline: Has a degree in culinary arts with a specialty in vitamin theory. (Yes, vitamin theory, one of the many majors available at Glen Allen University.)
Occupation: Used to be the chief cook at the cafeteria at Larson’s Folly Spatial Mechanics laboratory, but when the base was shut down he was relieved of his post. His current job is unknown.
Security clearance: None.
Last updated: March 19, 2815
I’ll continue to investigate to see what else I can find. There is a lot of equipment here that I can’t use at the moment because it is not powered. If I can get the zero-point-energy plant here at the facility to work then perhaps I’ll be able to piece together a few more clues.