The first thing that Michael noticed was the silence, and then the asphyxiation. He couldn’t breathe; the air was fetid, with very little oxygen.
He squeezed his eyes closed and focussed his mind. His laboured breathing slowly began to ease as he forced his body to control its processes and extract more available oxygen from his new environment.
He opened his eyes, and realising that he was still tied up with rope, craned his neck to try to ascertain exactly where he was.
He knew that he had been kicked into the event horizon of the wormhole by Dr Oppenheimer.
I knew there was something wrong with him, he thought as he forced himself to replay the events that had led to his current predicament.
The minute he had walked into the laboratory and saw Dr Becker tied to a chair, he knew it was a trap.
Whatever Oppenheimer had injected him with, had disabled his TDI. However, it had not rendered him unconscious.
He had pretended to go along with the mad doctor’s scheme. He needed to know what was going on.
The fact that Oppenheimer was controlling Mundus Nova did not come as any surprise. What did surprise him was the fact that his good friend was also evil. The man he thought was a saviour was in fact a murderer.
I can’t believe Doctor Becker would have been capable of creating such a terrible virus, he thought as he methodically worked to untie himself from his constrictions.
As the last of the bindings fell from his body, Michael stood up and took a good look around at his surroundings.
As far as he could tell he was in some kind of holding cell.
The walls, floor and ceiling of the cell were perfectly smooth and coated in a substance that appeared to be perfectly frictionless. He tried to touch the wall. There was a sensation of a force pushing back against his hand. It was an odd feeling. Even though the air was fetid, he could feel there was movement, a breeze like the slight breath of a child.
There was a red bioluminescent message in the air that hovered several feet from his face. It was written in a strange language. A series of squiggles and dots and it appeared to be changing in a rhythmic fashion. At least the last few characters appeared to be changing.
He focussed his attention on the message and it slowly began to make sense to his mind,
Decontamination in progress, completion in…
The last few characters eluded his interpretation but he had the gist of the message. It made sense to him that, wherever he was in space and time, there was a risk that he would carry contaminates from his world. Obviously whatever race of creature lived here was just being cautious.
It was also obvious to Michael that Oppenheimer had not bothered to target any particular destination for the wormhole. His only concern being the destruction of his perceived enemy.
He smiled as he could picture the look on the Doctor’s face when he appeared again to return the favour.
It was indeed fortunate for Michael, that Oppenheimer had been unaware that he did not need the TDI to enter the wormhole. It was also fortunate that he had not been rendered unconscious. He had needed all of the power of his mind to maintain his molecular cohesion whilst inside the swirling vortex.
The bioluminescent message changed colour. Now it was green and the last few characters had stopped changing. The breeze had also stopped. Michael was curious to see what would happen next.
Suddenly the room around him changed.
Shapes morphed around him. The duplicate image of his room back on his world materialised before him. Even the air became heavier with oxygen and he was able to breathe easier.
Well that’s impressive, he thought as he strode to his newly materialised FSC and opened it slowly.
He pulled out a cold drink and put it to his lips. Just like on his world, the container responded to his touch and an opening appeared that allowed him to take a sip. The juice was sweet and he gulped it down.
The juice initiated pangs of hunger. He remembered the bioflavonoid pellets that he had placed in his pocket when his breakfast had been rudely interrupted. He pulled them out and popped them into his mouth.
As the pellets dissolved he looked around his room. He was amazed that it was exactly the same and concluded that the aliens were able to see into his mind.
I guess I am the alien, he thought as if to correct himself and wondered whether he was some sort of exhibit to be gawked at like some of the animals he had seen in zoos when he was younger.
As if on cue he heard a voice from behind.
“Welcome Michael, we are very pleased to finally meet you.”
Michael turned slowly and was confronted by the holographic image of an alien species that seemed vaguely familiar to him.
The alien was almost purple in colour with humanoid features, except that it was very tall and thin. Its head appeared out of proportion to the rest of its body and it had large eyes that seemed to provide all of the facial expression as the nose and mouth were small in comparison. Its ears were very small, almost non-existent.
“We trust everything is to your liking, we have tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible,” the alien said as he made a sweeping gesture around the room with one of his extremely thin arms.
“Yes, I am very impressed,” Michael said as he moved to a chair and sat down. “Although I think that a bit more oxygen at the start would have been nice.”
“Of course, you must sit down. Your extraordinary abilities have enabled you to survive quite a journey, but even you have your limits.”
“Thank you,” Michael said as he took another sip from his drink. “You seem to know a lot about me. What shall I call you and where exactly am I?”
“You may call me Oolax. You are currently at a juncture in time and space; we sensed your entry into the wormhole and assisted you in traversing it.”
“We?” Michael asked. “You mean there are more of you?”
“I am merely a projection of your mind; we exist outside of this juncture. Our species inhabit a world very different from yours in another Universe; however we have encountered your species before. We sense that you are the result of this encounter.”
Michael smiled as he realised why they were familiar to him. He shared their DNA.
“You’re my long lost relatives?” he said and then laughed.
“Yes, that is correct. You are genetically similar to us. You and your son are quite unique.”
Michael raised an eyebrow at this last statement and almost choked on his juice. He coughed violently.
When he regained composure, he stood up and moved closer to the image of the alien.
“How do you know about Justen?” he asked angrily, throwing the drink container against the wall.
“Calm down, we can see inside your mind, we know everything you know.”
“Well stop it. Get out of my mind!”
“You have the ability to stop us Michael,”
Of course I can, Michael thought as he erected mental barriers in his mind.
Satisfied that he had prevented any further intrusion, he stepped back slightly from the alien.
“Well since you know so much about me and my son, you would also know why I came to be here,” he said as he made a sweeping motion around the room with his arm.
“You have been betrayed.”
Michael noticed that Oolax’s eyes conveyed a genuine sense of empathy. He could almost feel the concern emanating from him.
“Yes I have. Can you help me?” he asked as his feelings of anger morphed into feelings of remorse and loss as he realised how far he was from his son.
He looked up to see that the alien seemed to be concentrating on something.
“One moment please Michael,” Oolax said just before he disappeared.
Michael realised that Oolax must have gone to confer with the others that he had spoken about. He decided to use the time he had to have a good look around his enclosure.
He could see that every detail of the room he had been living in had been exactly duplicated. He marvelled at the way he could pick up objects and actually feel them like they were real.
He wondered how much more technologically advanced the aliens could be. He realised with a feeling of trepidation that his continuing existence was entirely in their hands.
Just as he had completed that thought, the alien reappeared.
“It has been decided we will help you and Justen, Michael, there is however, one condition,” Oolax said as he swept his arm across in front of him.
Michael could see that his cell had changed once again. One of the walls displayed a series of moving images. Incredibly, the images were portraying his life.
He recognised his past, his present and even a future. The last part portraying his future disturbed him greatly, although he somehow understood the context of the message it conveyed. He had a painful choice to make. He grimaced as he turned to face Oolax.
Oolax nodded his head when he saw Michael’s reaction.
“I see that you understand what must be done.”
“Yes, you want me to choose.”
“Yes, Michael, unfortunately only you can make this future happen. The choice is yours,” Oolax said as he swept its arm again and caused the images to dissolve, leaving only the dull grey wall.
Michael slowly bowed his head and then slowly looked up at Oolax and nodded.
“So be it. Now tell me Oolax, how am I to accomplish this task. I have no means of travel; I can’t just wish it to be.” Michael said in frustration as he turned and paced to other side of his cell.
“You underestimate the power of your mind Michael. Do you remember every feature of your room on your world?”
“Yes, of course I can. I have an eidetic memory.”
Oolax nodded in agreement. “Yes, we know you have Michael. So what is missing from this one?”
Michael scanned the room thoroughly and knew Oolax was right; there was a holographic photograph of Sylvan missing. It was supposed to be sitting next to Justen’s image on his book shelf.
How did I not see that before, he thought as he scanned the room again to make sure that the photograph was the only thing he missed. Once satisfied he presented his finding to Oolax.
“There is a holographic photograph of Sylvan missing,” he said, “Why is it missing?”
“Make it appear,” Oolax said, ignoring Michael’s question.
“How can I do that? This is your room, your technology, I cannot make things appear or disappear at a whim. I don’t have the ability to manipulate matter like that,” Michael said snapping his fingers as if to emphasize the point.
“You manipulate matter all the time Michael, you just don’t realise it. Even without our DNA, your human mind has far more latent abilities than you realise. Even you, use only a tiny portion of that ability.”
“Is that right? Well tell me, how can I use more?”
“It’s all about belief Michael and overcoming fear. You must believe that you are capable of such a feat. It was your mind that destroyed the laboratory where you were held when you were a child. Your anger overrode your fear.
You used your mind to manipulate the Boson field at the sub atomic level to produce the telekinetic effect. It was your mind that enabled your world to create a Lorentzian wormhole which enlarges the existing sub atomic wormholes which have existed since the beginning of time. Your mind intrinsically knew that it could be done.
All you have to do is believe that you can manipulate matter in the material Universe. Focus your mind on the holographic photograph, envision it appearing before you.”
At first Michael was dumbfounded by the simplicity of matter manipulation. He had no idea that he was capable of such feats until Oolax had explained it to him.
He understood now that he possessed the power to achieve almost anything and he wondered whether Justen possessed the same abilities.
The thought of Justen at the mercy of Mundus Nova, helped him to focus on the holographic image of Sylvan. He closed his eyes and pictured the item in his mind, turning it every possible way to grasp the full context. He pictured the atomic and molecular bonds.
On the shelf in front of him a slight glow began to appear. At first it was like a smudge of light. Michael knew that at the sub atomic level the particles required to constitute the holographic photograph were assembling and combining.
Slowly the item began to materialise and the smudge of light began to become clearer like the image in a camera lens, becoming clearer when the focus aperture is rotated.
The intense focus in Michael’s mind left him feeling drained of energy, like he himself had donated the molecules to create the object. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes.
He smiled at the end result of his effort. He walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the newly formed holographic photograph.
He was surprised, for some reason he expected the object to be warm. In fact it was no warmer than the room’s ambient temperature.
He held the object in his hands and turned to face Oolax.
“It seems that you were right my friend,” he said and smiled as he gently felt the item and marvelled at its solidity, it’s wholeness.
“We are pleased Michael. Now do you think you have the strength to conquer a much bigger challenge?”
Michael raised his left eyebrow and looked up from the item.
“What do you have in mind?”
“You need to create a portable Lorentzian wormhole generator which will be tuned to your DNA. With it, you will be able to traverse between Universes at will.
However, Michael, be aware that this will precipitate you having to make that choice and once it has been made it will be irreversible.”
Michael coughed nervously and walked back to the shelf and put the object he created back next to the image of his son. He turned to face Oolax.
“You know my friend, choice or no choice; it is one thing to create an object that I am intimately acquainted with. It is quite another thing, an almost impossible thing I would say, to create an item that I have never seen or even imagined.
How would I even begin to visualise such a thing? How could I possibly replicate the exotic matter required to power it? Does such a thing even exist? What you ask of me is impossible.”
Michael could see that Oolax was pondering the questions that he had thrown at him. He watched as Oolax suddenly closed his eyes and held out his hand with his palm facing upwards.
A series of bright swirls of light materialised on the palm of his hand causing his hand to change colours from purple to blue then green then yellow and then finally red. The red swirling vortices of light began to become denser and coalesced into a sphere the size of an apple. In fact to Michael, the object kind of looked like an apple.
However this image was short lived as the sphere lost its redness and changed to become almost pearlescent. It turned into a solid object, perfectly round with a strange inner glow.
Michael watched as Oolax closed his hand around the sphere and held his arm out, perpendicular to his body. He then quickly turned the sphere. Michael inhaled sharply; he could not believe his eyes as an event horizon of a stable wormhole appeared in front of Oolax.
He watched mesmerised as Oolax opened his hand and let the sphere float away from him. It drifted outwards towards the wormhole and then quickly disappeared into the event horizon, causing the wormhole to dissipate as quickly as it appeared, taking the sphere with it.
“Oolax, why did you do that? I could have used your device to save my son.”
“I merely wished to show you that such a device exists. Now that you have seen one you can create your own. The blueprint is in your mind. We are no longer required!”
And with that – Oolax vanished.