Health

I opened my eyes once the wind stopped. In front of me was a pedestal, with a vial floating in midair above it. Silver and shiny, it bobbed up and down between what I assumed were two magnets. ‘LXR’, it was marked. I hesitated, and then grabbed it out of midair. Ding went the Shifter. Dongdongdongdongdongdongdong went the alarms. I turned around, looking for a corner to hide in. The room was circular. I didn’t find that funny.

There were two doors. I ran towards one, but it slid open and a man stepped through. I turned around, only to find three guards blocking that entrance. Facing the first door, I watched as the man – obviously the leader – walked confidently towards me. I clutched the vial tight.

‘You seem to have accidently picked up some of my property,’ he growled.

I didn’t move.

‘It's not yours,’ he clarified.
‘I need it,’ I stammered.
‘You don’t even know what it does,’ he countered.
‘You’re meant to give it to me,’ I replied.
‘True. But I’ve made such a nice living from it that I’m, shall we say, reluctant to give it up.’
‘You can’t ju-,‘ I began, but the man surged forward and tightly grabbed my arm.

‘SHUT. UP. The game’s over, Joel. Here are your options: plan A – you give me the LXR, and then go on your merry way. Plan B – my friends behind you melt your insides, I take the LXR and go on my merry way.’ He glared at me, but I forced myself to meet his gaze.

‘How about plan C – I prove to you that I know what the LXR is and you give it to me?’
‘You have no idea what it is,’ he asserted.
‘If you’re right, then I guess we move on to another plan.’

The man paused.

‘You’ve piqued my interest. We go with plan C.’
‘I need a minute. Alone.’

He stared at me.

‘I’m sure you can hold your excitement about microwaving my insides for a minute. Out.’

He looked bemused, and then waved at the guards. ‘One minute,’ he repeated, and went to close the door. ‘Don’t try using your new toy – the vial can’t be Shifted,’ he added, then slammed the door shut.

‘Shit,’ I swore, and smacked my head against the wall.

Sucked In

I’d tried all the other doors along the corridor, but they were all locked or wouldn’t open. I’d even left a shoe in the middle of the hallway and entered the door at the end, but my shoe was still waiting for me when I passed through. I didn’t know what to do. I sat down and retied my shoe, and thought through my options. The Shifter slid out of my pocket. Of course! I wasn’t thinking properly.

I took the time to really examine the thing. Black and sleek, its contoured edges screamed sophistication. Currently, “Without: 497” and “Within: 3” were blinking gently. It was still the 22nd of February, apparently, but now the Displacement was 2035. Suddenly, it clicked, and I realised that the “Displacement” showed what the time it would have taken for this level of technology to arise had I not taken the antiseptic and microscope back. I pulled the Shifter’s lever, and it shot back up. Not unexpectedly, nothing happened.

I paced up and down the corridor, Shifter in hand. My leg twinged, and I stumbled. I massaged a sore spot in my thigh, and while doing so, noticed the Shifter’s screen and how it now said “Without: 499” and “Within: 1”. I took a step back. “Without: 498”. “Within: 2”. I took two steps forward. “Without: 500” flashed red and “Within: 0” flickered violently between green and yellow. I pulled the lever. A mechanical hum arose, but was then suddenly cut off, whining back into silence. I got the feeling I was close to something. An error message flashed up: “Infinity Lock”. Damn. That didn’t sound promising.

Infinity, eh? I leant against a blanched white wall and tossed up what I knew. The doors at the end of the corridor seemed to loop into each other. It was like having a video camera feeding into a TV, and then filming the TV screen itself. I paused, midway through thought, and became excited. I ran to the end of the corridor, shut my eyes, and kicked open the door. It swung back and the handle embedded in the plasterboard wall. I turned around, felt my way slowly along the corridor to the far door, and kicked that one open too. A roaring, deafening, icy wind blew through the corridor. I inched along the wall, hugging the Shifter close and staring defiantly at the numbers as they dropped to zero. I took a deep breath, and then pulled the lever. The mechanical hum began again, and rose in pitch and volume until the room imploded.