Carson stared at wonder at his father’s machine, considering the possibility that this was in fact a death machine of some sort, some kind of super gun that his father was designing for the military. It was a fantastic idea, to be sure, but how well did he really know his father? He knew his father was a physicist with a chip on his shoulder, always hard at work because he felt he had something to prove. Carson would not believe, however, that his father’s life work was a weapon, a machine designed only to harm. The time he has spent with his father related to him a story of an idealistic if somewhat driven man who wished to make a positive impact on the world. Obviously, a death ray would not be a positive step in the right direction for the human race.
“No way, man. No way my Dad would build a…a death ray, or whatever. He’s not like that.” Carson responded, forgetting for a moment to whisper.
“But dude, just look at it. Why build something in the shape of a gun if it, you know, isn’t a gun?” responded Pete, his voice an excited whisper. He nudged Ray, who was gazing at the machine seemingly deep in thought. “Ray, what do you think, man? Death Ray? Or is it a magical rainbow and puppy dog machine?” Pete snickered at his own joke.
“I don’t know man, but let’s get out of here before anyone finds us. I don’t want us to get into trouble.” Said Ray, who seemed uneasy around the machine.
“Well if it’s not a death ray then let’s see what it can do.” Said Pete as he walked up to the machine, which was nearly his height. Shaped like a gun but cylindrical, it was a conglomeration of wires and steel, obviously a very complicated design. Pete’s attention was then drawn to the side, where it appeared a very small diamond plate hung precariously upon thin copper tubes that extended outwards.
“Oh, come on man, don’t touch it. We don’t know what it is and if my Dad finds out we even looked at it, we’re dead.” Said Carson, whispering now and obviously very afraid of being discovered. “Let’s just put the sheet back on and go back upstairs.”
Pete didn’t seem to be listening to Carson’s warnings. Instead he was cued in on the diamond aperture. “Hey, man, I think this is a diamond. Do you think it’s real?” He extended a finger to give the plate a poke. Carson didn’t have a chance to tell him to stop before he touched the plate; he was too late. Pete’s not-so-gentle prod shifted the plate and bent the copper tubes, not breaking it but obviously moving it out of place.
“Oh, shit! What the fuck, man! Now he’s gonna know we were down here and I’m fucked!” whispered Carson angrily.
“Dude, chill, it’s no big deal.” Replied Pete, casually adjusting the copper tubing into a shape that was, to the best of his ability, the same as before. “See? No big. He’ll never notice.”
Carson, very sure that his father would notice and first question then kill his only son, was aghast. Realizing that there was no way for him to make the situation any better other than leaving the basement and forgetting he ever saw the machine, he quickly began to grab the sheet off of the floor and throwing it over the his father’s invention, trying to get it to hang exactly the way it had been hanging when he first entered the basement. Pete just giggled at the panic that overcame his friend.
“Let’s go. Pretend this never happened, okay?” whispered Carson, motioning for his two friends to follow him to the stairs. They hadn’t taken two steps before he heard his father’s voice at the top of the stairs:
“This way gentlemen, I’ll give you a demonstration.”
Now it wasn’t only Carson feeling panic. As he turned to his friends, he saw that look of fear that overcomes those who are caught with their hand in the cookie jar written across Pete and Ray’s faces. Thinking quickly and acting silently, Carson pushed his friends in the direction of the garbage cans underneath the stairs. With all the junk piled in the two cans, they would be able to hide behind them until his father left the basement and provided them an opportunity to escape. It was the only space in the entire basement that would hide three large teenage boys, and their only hope.
It was a tight fit in the small space underneath the stairs, and the boys had to kneel, but anything was better than being caught. Carson could still see the area that held the machine through a crack between the garbage cans, so he knelt and watched as his father guided two men, who he recognized as friends and colleagues of his father, to the machine. As long as he and his friends could stay hidden, he would finally be able to see what his father believed to worth so much more than time spent with his children. Carson listened carefully as his father began to speak…
Samuel had been awoken from his much-needed slumber by a loud knock at the door. Judging from the rapidity of the knocking, whomever was at the door had been knocking for quite some time. Hearing loud pulsating bass beats from the upstairs, Samuel assumed his daughter and her friend Kyra had their music turned up too loud to notice the knocks at the door. Scowling at their obliviousness, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, shaking off fatigue as he stood up to answer the door.
Glaring at him from the porch were his colleagues, Fred Acker and Eric North. Physicists like Samuel, likewise they were men in their mid-forties. Fred was beginning to lose his hair, and typically tried to hide it beneath a variety of hats. Eric kept in good shape, a gym-nut who often pestered Fred or Samuel to come with him and get in shape. Fred always preferred to read and Samuel was always too busy with research or a project. As different as these two men that Samuel called friends were, the both of them were giving him the same look: annoyance. Neither of them appreciated a kink in their schedules, Samuel knew, and neither of them truly believed that he had pulled off what he has said he has pulled off. Sam grinned; they were in for a surprise.
“Come in, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait, I was just enjoying a well-earned nap.”
The two men entered the house, with Fred taking off his hat as he stepped through the threshold. Eric was the first to speak.
“That was a crazy text to receive after my class, Sam. This isn’t a joke, is it?”
“Of course not! I’m a professional, not a prankster. And this is no laughing matter. Let me show you.”
Samuel moved toward the kitchen, motioning for the men to follow. Fred and Eric shared a look, skepticism obvious on their faces as they turned to follow their friend toward his basement laboratory. “This way, gentlemen. I’ll give you a demonstration.” Beckoned Samuel at the top of the stairs has he began to make his way down.
Making their way behind Samuel down the steps, they take in his home office, so to speak. Neither of them work at home, preferring to keep their experiments and research funded by the university. Of course, they have their share of books on their subject of study, but this…this was a dedication and drive that they were unaware Samuel possessed. They had believed his theories were simply a way to gain attention, a way to talk big around the office, so to speak. It finally began to dawn on them that perhaps he has done what he has claimed for so long to be working towards. The implications were staggering.
Following his lead, they stopped on the far end of the basement, in front of a sheet-covered object. Without wasting any time, Sam flung the sheet off his creation, the spirit of showmanship taking a firm hold has a presented the machine he believed would change the world.
“The World’s first Matter Shifter” spoke Sam in a grandiose manner, a wide and pleased grin spreading across his face.
The two physicists were speechless at the construct in front of them. Shaped much like a gun, it was a device that seemed to be constructed with mind-boggling complexity. If this were a hoax of some sort, then Samuel had truly gone all out. They had only a moment to take it in before a visibly excited Samuel walked over to his computer and began tapping in an array of keystrokes, and the men jumping back as the machine began to emit a soft, ominous hum. The nozzle of the Matter Shifter was pointed at a dead frozen rat that sat upon a steel stand that had been bolted to the floor.
As he continued to input data into the computer, Samuel explained, “I have run a number of successful tests on numerous organic test subjects, like this rat, at a variety of percentages. I will run now with the lowest percentage I have been able to achieve, at 1/10th of a percent of the original size.”
Pressing a final key into the computer, the hum of the machine grew louder, with the nozzle beginning to glow with a bright green hue. Samuel rushed over to his colleagues, eager to take in their reactions to his amazing accomplishment. The humming grew louder, and as Fred and Eric were enraptured with the machine, Sam began to notice that something was wrong. The machine was reacting in a way that was totally new to him, and new was bad in the case of his machine. Green light began to spill around the tip, surrounding the machine in an eerie light.
“Hold on…this is wrong.” A stunned Sam spoke out loud, interrupting the reverie of his colleagues.
“What do you mean, wrong? Are you saying we are not safe, Sam?” a frightened Fred asked.
Samuel was further stunned when he heard a voice loudly proclaim “Oh Shit!” from behind the trashcans near the test area of the machine. Stunned surprise turned to paralyzing fear as his son Carson and two large teenage boys that he assumed to be teammates of his stepped out from behind the garbage. What were they doing down here?
“I’m sorry, Dad! We thought we fixed it!” Carson shouted over the hum of the machine. He hurried over to Samuel, Fred and Eric, his two friends looking frightened but following behind.
Looking back at the machine, Sam’s expert eyes quickly picked out the issue: the focusing plate was out of position. An essential component of the machine, he realized its position near the outside of the machine as a design flaw. Out of place, the beam wouldn’t have a focused target. Without a focus, the beam wouldn’t find release and would instead build in pressure until it was released…
“We have to get out of here! Run!” screamed Samuel, and the group turned toward the stairs out of the basement. It was in that moment that the machine hit critical mass, the beam spiraling out across the entire basement, instantly reducing all organic matter to 1/10th of a percent of its original size.