Second Nature by Ellison Blackburn

Author:Ellison Blackburn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, speculative fiction, women’s fiction, pyschological, drama, contemporary fiction, literary fiction, family saga, genetic engineering, time-travel, contemporary romance, new adult romance
Publisher: Goldbrier Press

Chapter Fifteen

There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time.

—H. G. Wells, The Time Machine

・ ・ ・

LIAM’S LABS ARE in the old Union Station building. As I enter and step further afield, I scan the area looking around for him amidst the bustle of activity. There are people working diligently at the several new stations that have been set up—conceptualizing, organizing, material gathering, testing, and still, others are walking from one area to another doing something purposeful, it seems. The space itself looks different from how it appeared only a few weeks ago, despite it being a cavernous and quiet area then; it has become quite a consolidated effort for the pod roof project.

Finally, I spot Liam hidden behind Mark Dooley’s bulky frame. Engrossed in discussion with two other people, they are at the table at the end, which is covered with large sheets of paper (I assume blueprints or plans of some sort). Uncannily, when Liam does look up, his head pivots directly toward me. Leaning back behind Mark’s back he waves, and the gesture becomes a pointing one, motioning toward the far corner of the area, left of the entrance door. I make a bee-line in that direction.

They use the space for the geographic and time modulators and portal initiation. Opening a portal is an extremely noisy business—I’ve geo-traveled before, so I know. Imagine a great booming whoosh of air through a tunnel. It echoes deep, and you feel as if it might bore a hole right through your being. I’ve never quite understood why an open portal only makes noise in one direction, though. Liam’s tried to explain to me, but it still doesn’t make sense. Apparently, the original entrance is the actual wormhole. Any other opening is merely a projection or elevator, if you will, into the portal, so the sound happens somewhere out there, or does it? It’s like that indefinite, unanswered, philosophical question, “When a tree falls in the woods, and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

The cell is large, roughly three hundred square feet, and starkly empty; there isn’t a paperclip that’s not attached to something stationary. There’s only a console embedded into the wall with a myriad of unimposing dials and gauges, which cover the full surface area of the panel. These mechanisms are deceptively powerful. There’s also a sort of shelf in the middle of the panel for submitting the DNA sample you need to provide in order to travel.

Lucas wants to shut the time travel modulator down. Is that why I’m here, in this place? Just as I wonder, Liam steps into the glass environ. He’s holding a switchboard of some kind.

“Hey,” he greets. “Good to see you, though I see you a lot nowadays.”

I nod and look around, although there is nothing to look at, except through the glass. He takes my browsing as a question and flips the switch for the gas. “Let’s just wait a minute.

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