My Little Realities: C1 - Science, All Day Erry Day

My Little Realities: C1 - Science, All Day Erry Day

>you are anon
>you're in your late thirties
>wizard status: achieved
>it's not what the internet said it would be, you're not really a wizard
>just another guy with no fucks to give
>you're at your day job, fiddling with a sensor on some dead planet
>yep
>you're a fucking astronaut
>well not really, you're an explorer
>its a few years in the future and we’ve developed a travel system called the Variable Possibility device
>it doesn't actually transport you anywhere
>it allows you to travel to another reality, along the theorem of quantum superposition, where everything has a wave equivalent and only when it is observed does it collapse into what we normally see as reality
>in any case the variable possibility devices have nothing to do with this, as they operate on physics so complex that the explanation above pretty much doesn't apply, but it's as close and as dumbed down as it's gonna get
>you don't really understand how it works
>but what you do know is that it lets you travel into what can be layman’s termed as a parallel universe
>and there are trillions and trillions and trillions of them
>VPT is getting more or less commonplace, it's been around for a few years and parallel realities have become a fruitful endeavor
>you used to be a machinist before the VPT
>that got boring
>you became an electrical engineer, dabbled with programming and picked up some fun math and physics along the way
>your background made you an ideal candidate for a tekkie at the leading VPT center
>you trade long hours and really harsh work conditions for trips to exciting new worlds filled with awesome things
>or so they said
>really you just fix busted radios and probes on dead parallel universe planet-earths
>like all the other ones you've seen, it's a lifeless rock, covered in sand and dirt
>no water
>the VPT still hasn't encountered a planet "earth" with life, or even traces of life
>we may not be having sex with female versions of ourselves, but everyone is making a killing on resources easily attained through parallel earths
>honestly, it was just a survey and you could bring back tons of good ore within a month
>so here you are
>bored as fuck
>it's really hot, probably nearing 80 degrees Celsius
>no shade
>your suit is keeping you alive, thankfully, but it’s still really hot
>looking at this fried relay for a VPT bubble emitter
>bubble emitters are what carry people and stuff back and forth through realities, and the main one looks a little fucked
>oh well
>you boot up the spare
>shoddy fucking thing
>VPT bubble emitters don't look like much
>pressed sheet metal boxes, hinged screen, keyboard
>it was like a boxy laptop
>you grab your gear and engage the spare
>fucking thing takes forever to charge up
>whiny capacitors scream as they slowly build up the 1.21 gigawatts needed to punch physics in the face
>it fizzes out and an alarm beeps
>fucking fuck, what the fuck is wrong now, stupid fucking shit
>oh right, forgot to turn the dial to "fuck off" and press the "suck my dick button"
>you hit reset, do a quick diagnostic, find out you forgot to close a battery cover, swear some more (at yourself this time, it works fine if you don't forget that stupid little battery cover) and hit engage
>you aren't really mad, you just have a foul mouth
>maybe a little annoyed, but you rarely get mad
>the trip home is uneventful
>thunderclap sound
>flash of light
>it's already over, you stand on some sand carried over from the dead earth, #2263289 or whatever the fuck they named it
>default contamination protocol activates
>herewego.avi
>you're almost cooked inside your suit, again, being hosed down by the most violent jets of hot anti-everything known to man
>from shit that was downright poisonous to solvents and antibacterial
>ten minutes of being hosed down by an automated system
>when it's finally over, you go through another, thankfully gentler shower without your almost-space suit
>once the bio-kit had finished its survey to ensure that no dangerous viruses or bacterium existed on the planet, you wouldn't have to go through that again
>then a debrief
>paperwork
>more paperwork
>wishing you were home so you could rage fap to some really weird hentai
>why the fuck do you work here again?
>you aren't that attached to the job
>the pay isn't bad
>but you sit back and remember
>you remember what you've seen growing up
>what you've seen working here
>what you might see
>hell, what you've already seen is enough
>the reason why all the planets are dead, well the ones humanity has set foot on anyhow, is that every parallel universe somehow works a tiny bit differently than the last, and it takes specific physics on both the large and small scale for planets to form and then life to form
>a lot of the universes didn't have planets
>or stars
>just void
>good thing they send probes through first
>your suit may be air tight, but it’s really not made for the void of space
>it's armored and made to isolate you from any possible contagion, armor is simply there so you don't rip the airtight suit brushing up against a rock or something
>trips and falls on rough terrain would make short work of a regular HAZMAT suit
>has some cool features
>but it wasn't made for vacuum
>you'd vent atmosphere very fast through your filters and die
>suit has no air, just very good filters
>the suit was mandatory until the bio-kit and samples confirmed that it was a dead planet
>that thing always takes a couple days but “OH NO ANON WE NEED DAT SURVEY RITE NAO AND GO FIX SHIT TOO”
>once it was done analyzing the planet’s ecosystem and samples, it would determine if it was safe to take off the suit
>one alien enough strain of virus or bacteria could kill everyone, not a chance anyone would take
>anyhow the fun thing about the times that the universe actually had something like earth on the other side was the view, amongst other things of course
>a little fraction of a percentage difference in the gravitational constant of the universe, as an example, could have unimaginable results
>you've seen the sky lit up, as if it were on fire
>every star screaming
>every nebula was burning
>thing like that made it worthy
>sure, that universe was a few million years away from flaming itself into a cold, dead universe, but while you were there, it made it all worth it
>some men just want to watch the universe burn
>they limited exposure to an hour
>they'd pulled you out before the radiation had time to cook you inside your suit when you'd been watching the skies for two
>you wake up out of your reverie.  That memory ended with a chewing out and unpleasant treatments for minor rad poisoning
>right, you're still on the clock
>better stroke the servos the right way to please the machine spirit and get this thing fixed
>you turn on some sensors in your hands
>implants were getting more commonplace, these days
>you had a lot of them
>a lot of people were against it
>quite a few still are
>having been unable to give any fucks whatsoever, you had started sticking metal bits in you as soon as you could
>"could" being "afford"
>shit wasn't cheap
>most weren't visible, some were strapped to you
>you had your left eye taken out, however
>what replaced it was larger, fit over where the eye was, and filled the socket
>had a variety of lenses, one large with a handful of small ones
>implant in your hand booted up
>it allowed you to feel electric currents, you were able to tell potential charges, voltage, amps and stuff just by getting your fingers near whatever you wanted to “analyze”
>you had it off most of the time, it was distracting when you were playing videogames and stuff
>you quickly find the problem
>that sensor is handy as fuck
>you start replacing the burnt out capacitor
>you start your playlist, the implant feeds music directly into your inner ear canal
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5lc3XsQejI
>you work mechanically and wander off into day dreams
>you probably wouldn’t be able to live without this implant, you practically had a themed background music to your life, choosing your tracks at will
>or taking phone calls and that shit but it’s not like you really talked to people
>you think about the VPT and what of it that you understand
>you wonder if they'll ever find a reality with life on it
>you wonder if there's any way to find it instead of shooting in the dark
>the bass drum seems to massage your brain as you're in la-la land, and you snap out of it, having completed your repairs and did some maintenance on the thing's software
>you've always been a bit of an airhead
>you grew up in a strange environment
>too much internet has also made you a strange person
>little need or want for personal contact
>very strange and flexible system of morals
>what the fuck are you saying, you really didn’t have morals
>absolutely rock hard stomach for the weird and fucked up
>desensitized by years of mental abuse both on the internet and real life
>you'veseensomeshit.pkf
>nothing fazes you any more
>and you want to find something that will
>buzzer rings, announcing the end of your day
>you go home
>eat some shitty food, leftovers of a frozen dinner for a family of 4
>family of 4?  Family of ME!
>you’re actually not fat.  In shape? No.  But your work ends up consuming you enough to skip meals so you maintain a pasty but acceptable figure.
>healthy?
>hahahahaha no.
>you were winded after like two flights of stairs
>spending a few hours on the internet, reading up on some new rifle and laughing at fags who think they're better than everyone because they've gotten their dick wet and other fags who whine about being alone and beta, you fap and start to fall asleep
>the internet hasn’t really changed much in all those years, you find that comforting
>you see shapes and numbers as you drift off
>you often just think about technical details you worked on during the day or how to make a viable hyperburst rifle that doesn’t have a fucking pulley in it
>damn ruskies and that clusterfuck of a gun they call the AN-94
>who the fuck would put a pulley in their gun
>fucking ruskies that’s who
>anyhow
>you try to relax and go to bed
>so you play with sequences and graph bodies for the VPT devices
>it was a great way to fall asleep
>it hits you like a ton of bricks
>you jump out of your bed and start sketching and writing
>you think you've found a way to find some universes that are a little more like yours, i.e. possibility universes where life exists
>you think you can do this by science-ing some technobabble into physics
>well
>by imprinting the field generator with this universe's wave pattern and set the targeting coordinates to a flexible matrix, you should be able to attract a close universe, like a magnet
>fucking magnets, how do they work
>you'll have to talk to some of the brains at work, they actually know what they're talking about, most of the time
>for now this will do
>you go back to bed
>ouch fuck
>you wonder what you're lying on
>oh right
>you pull the uncomfortable offending object from under you and stick it back under your pillow
>trusty Glock, with some +p 135 grain Hornady Critical Duty rounds
>your one main past time was guns
>it made you live like a hobo, as you would rather shoot thousands of dollars’ worth of guns and ammo than drive a nice car
>honestly; your apartment wasn't much too look at
>bedroom was a tangled mess of wires and screens, dirty floors and bare primer-white painted walls
>kitchen was devoid of pretty much anything comestible
>fridge of condiments
>you had more guns in your fridge than you had food
>living room was pretty empty, just an old flower print couch gathering dust
>going to the range was probably the only time you left your apartment apart from going to work
>on the comforting thought of Rico, one of your many pistols, you sleep