by Chris Troman
pressure of the sky lift; took me away from that aquatic world.
The strange thing is, after that no one saw any of the octopi again. Even the one from its tank in the Aquarium disappeared, much to the embarrassment of the keepers. "We just got there one morning, and the only thing in the tank were some kids blocks spelling out. "Good bye."
An End to the World is Nigh
The sullen faced man tapped at the window of the diner I was eating in, and motioned me of his hunger. I couldn't turn down this pitiful individual; after all he was my brother. I motioned him inside, but the woman behind the counter anticipated the manoeuvre. So she quickly cut him off at the door. "You can come in, but the sign stays outside." He shrugged it off, and carefully laying it against the window he sat next to me.
"Hello Simon long time no see" I greeted him. He took the burger I had ordered, and proceeded to demolish it along with the fries and milkshake. I indicated to the waitress that I'd have the same again. With a satisfied burp Simon put the glass down, and stared strait at me. "It'll all end next week." "Is that what your sign's about?" I enquired. "I'm afraid so, not that it matters anymore." "No way to escape it I suppose?" I suggested, wondering how he had come to this. I mean I know I'd not seen him in five years, but how had he sunk so low after such a promising career. After all, he had been an expert in M theory and the probability of existence. He leaned in. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I've seen the end of the world too many times for one man to cope with." Then he started to tell me the strangest tail I had ever heard.
Dr Wyndam cursed, why couldn't he get this thing tuned in. He felt the pressure mounting in his work, just as the geologists claimed the pressure was rising in Yellow Stone Park. The biggest volcano in the world, or at least it would be all too soon. Mankind was doomed, with no escape off the planet it was stuck here waiting for the end of the world. Simon at least didn't intend to die, along with all the billions of poor souls. For Simon Wyndam, professor in M theory and the probability of existence had his pet thesis. And that had grown to an obsession. Taking the family fortune, much to the annoyance of his brother John.
"If only I could tune the portal." Simon grumbled to himself, in the heavily protected laboratory in down town Chicago. Then there was a faint signal on the large screen. Working feverishly he skilfully adjusted the controls, increased the gain until his mega watt generator squealed in protest. Then at last an image faded in to being, and he could see a mirror image of his lab. Complete down to the professor staring back. As each approached the screen they reached out, and with a flash of colour inversion. Simon stood exactly where he had been.
"Useless pile of junk." Simon cursed at the impressive set of equipment, as it powered down. Then glancing down at the paper sat on his desk, he noticed the headline. Where was the latest bulleting on Yellow stones ever-expanding dome? He looked through the entire periodical. Not a word, he'd done it. Simon was in an alternative reality.
Quickly he checked the dials. They were set to zero, so how was he going to get back? He didn't know the setting of his starting point. Simon thought about all those people, even his brother was gone. Doomed to the fate he had just escaped. Bracing himself, he looked in a real mirror. "Well Simon, if you're the only one. You better just carry on."
He unlocked the solid steel door, and went into the normal part of his down town building. Then Simon stepped out into the cool January air. He shielded his eyes against the sun; taking in a deep breath of freedom from the short life he had been expecting this morning. He strolled down the street, in a nonchalant manner. He could breath again. At the corner there seemed to be a crowd gathering, and keen to find out the reason; he edged through the throng.
At its centre was a lad, selling a rapidly depleting pile of board sheets. Simon reached in his pocket and paid the lad. Then he glared down at the headline, meteor to strike the Earth. The end of the world as we know it. Scientists had known about the impending doom for some time now, but had kept it secret while they tried to work out a plan. Or at least prove the massive chuck of space rock would pass by safely. But now they had to admit that the world-ending event was inevitable, and no one could do anything about it.
Simon slapped his brow and dragging the hand down to his jaw, then he did an about face. He stormed back to his familiar dwelling, studying the article for any indication as to when the meteor would hit. It said he had a week. O.K. he'd need four days to recharge the capacitors, and then he'd just have to get tuning again. He could do it.
So with the resolve that had motivated him to start this project, Simon set about readying his machine again. Once more he locked himself into his inner sanctum. Then with a pile of supplies so he could stay at the controls, Simon set the capacitors buzzing. He then set his timer to remind him of the scant few days and hours left to him, before the meteor would squash him like a fly. Finally he began the arduous task of tuning in his portal to salvation. The hours seemed to slip away like sand in a timer.
Simon would take a brief brake now and then for food, and when he was too tired to carry on. At these moments he checked the progress of this new doom, as it slowly grew larger in the sky. The telescopic photos the papers depicted its progress, until there was only a day to go. Simon was too fearful to unlock his heavily barred door then, least some crazed mob descended on him. Then he finally got a clear picture.
As before, the figure in the lab depicted through his screen was busy at some task, but drawn by Simon’s connection he approached the portal. There was a brief crackling, and a blue glow all over Simon's body. By the time it faded, the screen had also returned to it's usual static. Simon made a grab for the paper that had so recently proclaimed doom by meteorite, but it wasn't there. He gave a sigh of relief. Then turning to the exit, Simon noticed it was considerably more secure than what he was used to. Just to make sure, he decided to investigate the room before leaving it. Scanning his new lab, Simon noticed that there was considerably more medical equipment than he had before. He also found a full biohazard suit. Then he found the potable television. "I wonder if I can get any news on this thing" he mused, plugging it in.
Then he began more tuning. Less complicated yes, but none the less important. Most channels were out, but then he hit on what seemed to be an automated channel. The announcer repeated the message, while Simon sat with his head in his hands. "Stay in your homes. There is no known cure for the virus, but government laboratories are working on developing a vaccine. Do not have contact with any outsider, above all remain calm." Simon switched the set off. Was he some sort of cosmic Jonah? Attracting doom wherever he flitted to, or was it just time for the human race to be wiped from the planets surface? Either way he was in trouble. "Well at least I don't have a time limit in this reality." The disaster had already happened. So shrugging his shoulders he went back to the equipment, and started all over again.
The next lab he travelled to had a makeshift look about it. Then Simon realised, it had been set up in the sewers. With trepidation he checked the equipment was safely shut down, and taking note of the twists turns; he made his way out. The day had ended and darkness greeted his eyes, as he surveyed this latest incarnation of doom. There were few lights to brighten the cityscape, but fires and the odd explosion picked out familiar sights. Then he realised that what he had taken to be clouds, had just a little too much of a regular shape. They were sort of disc like.
Pulling back in to the shelter of the drain, Simon froze in rigid terror. A huge battle suited thing stomped past him. Mere feet from his hiding spot. Fading like a shadow, Simon disappeared back the way he came. Then he ran as fast as his wits would allow him. Now he had to find an escape from this latest nightmare. He needed time to reset the equipment up. If only they didn't come looking down here. For this horror hunted you out.
The jerry rigged set up left a lot to be desired. With old car batteries stacked high in a tottering heap to charge, Simon was kept busy. But never busy enough not to flinch at the least sound. Finally they w
ere finally full, according to the indicator. Then Simon began the tortuous work, of tuning in to his next manifestation. For now he was convinced that the cost of his salvation, had to be the doom of his own self. From the parallel dimension he flitted to. If only he could find one, where another fate than doom awaited.
This time he found the right frequency in record time, and was through in a flash of orange. But turning back, he got the briefest glimpse of his counter part choking, in the grip of the fiend from another world. Only glad that it wasn't his neck, Simon sank to the floor. Then he fell into a stupor, too exhausted to care about his fate for now.
He awoke to a stuffy choking sensation, and rolling over Simon tried to draw a breath. But the air seemed clammy and stale. Sitting up he felt that same feeling as last time, as if he were under ground. But this time he was definitely in his lab. Then glancing around, Simon realised the reason. For the fate this world had suffered, was a nuclear holocaust. If the Geiger counters and lead lined suits was anything to go by. Switching one of the detectors on, he was relieved to see its needle in the green zone. Then turning his attention to the air
