the hollow | Sidestory I | And We Drown
“How in hell does she expect to be able to go back in time?” Irvine yelled, exasperated.
The doctor smiled his oddly greasy smile, and nodded to a far corridor.
“If you’ll follow me,” Odine demanded. “I’ll show you my masterpiece!”
Squall kept his eyes on the doctor, aware that his teammates were exchanging questioning glances but unable to tear his eyes from the peculiar man. The doctor seemed … threatening, somehow. Off.
Irvine was fingering the butt of his rifle by this time, having long-since grown impatient with their seemingly aimless wanderings. He was worried about Squall, mostly. Squall knew this, and knew that he should respond, reassure, redirect. Somehow he lacked the will to pretend that he was fine anymore. He’d devoured …
Odine opened a large, code-secured door, and motioned energetically to the group. Squall followed immediately, anxious for distraction. Zell gave Irvine another look that Squall interpreted even behind his back, and then they followed his lead. Irvine took the rear, as usual. The sniper always did like to be able to see what he was killing.
Odine led them through a labyrinth of corridors, his neck-ruffle bobbing and glowing oddly against the dimly-illuminated plascrete walls. The walls were only semi-transparent on this level, and Squall wondered briefly if this was the norm or if Odine had demanded a custom job for privacy.
They finally came to Odine’s lab. His sanctum. It was a great, cavernous room, piled with cables and wires and monitors, and all other paraphernalia of science fiction.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Odine cackled, rushing over to stroke a low console.
“What?” Irvine asked from his position by the door, unable to see everything clearly.
“My machine,” Odine said, his voice reverent. “The Time Junction!”
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“What does it do?” Squall asked flatly.
Odine glared.
“This is a completely original invention!” he snapped. “The idea was an epiphany! A vision!”
“He passed out after eating Centrian shellfish,” a lab tech murmured conpiratorially.
“I saw the universe stretched into infinity!” Odine continued, oblivious to Selphie’s muffled giggles. “Each moment in time like a bead on a string. Only the string is infinite!” he concluded, gazing at them proudly.
Everyone was silent again.
“What does it do?” Squall asked flatly, crossing his arms.
Odine sighed.
“Don’t you understand?! If the universe is infinite, then there are infinite possibilities. But these infinite possibilities all lie within time. If time in infinite,” Odine continued, pacing as he outlined the universe with his hands. “Then time is a single point. Therefore, all of these infinite universes lie in a single point that exists as time. See?! Very simple!”
Squall was rubbing at his scar. Selphie exchanged confused glances with the helpful technician. Irvine had long since drowned out the annoying voice and was busy keeping guard.
“How does that affect this machine?” Squall asked from beneath his hand, apparently wishing that he’d stayed on the Ragnorak.
“Ahh!” Odine yelled in a wordless burst of frustration. “It is the same as the Guardians, you should know this!” Had he hair, Odine would have been yanking it out in frustration. “They exist in the other possibilities, in the other planes. The planes must all exist together, overlapping, because of time. That’s why the sorceress from the future wishes to achieve Time Kompression. Without time, the planes would either …” And now he paused, becoming somber so suddenly that Irvine began to pay attention.
“Without time, two things could happen. The planes could merge, existing not parallel but together, with no structure to keep them apart. Or, the planes could fly apart, altered irreparably, banished into nothing. Not an alternate plane, not another time. Nothing.”
“How does that benefit the sorceress?” Irvine asked, cradling Exeter as he leaned against the wall.
“It is no benefit, but a risk,” Odine shouted. “She would risk everything, to have everything!”
“Your machine,” Squall reminded the collared doctor.
“Yes, of course,” Odine muttered. “It is very simple, the theta waves of a sleeping Centrian mollusk resonate peculiarly with the sonar-based cries of migratory whales. These unique resonances inspired the formulation of an electronic-resonancing magnetic device, which, when activated, matches the resonance of this plane with that of the plane in a past moment. You see, the resonance changes over time. But since time is infinite, it is possible to short circuit, if you will, the linear progress of time, using a specific resonance as a locator, or target. If one simply applies--”
“Enough!” Squall said harshly. “We believe you,” he continued, head in hands. “We’ll just be going, then.”
“But you will save my machine?” Odine demanded.
“Yeah, got it, kill the sorceress, stop her from using that machine, yadda yadda,” Irvine said carelessly. Squall stalked passed him to the door, watching the cowboy from the corner of his eye for the twisting grin that was sure to follow, not acknowledging how much that grin calmed the rapid fluttering of his heart.
Irvine followed him without staying to hear Odine’s reply, following Squall as he always did, rifle slung over his shoulder and grinning wryly. A machine. A Hyne-cursed machine built by the proverbial mad scientist would destroy their world, was the reason he’d devoured them. Was the reason Irvine followed him now, and had to wonder if Irvine would continue to follow even when this reason was gone. Had to wonder if this reason ever would be gone. If he-
A machine.
Hyne damn it all.
A/N Title taken from "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" by TS Eliot.
