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2009 - 2018 - This is an original work by Zeb Carter and is protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and any submission to any other site has not been authorized by the Author.
A Hole in Time
"What the hell is going on here," Bill Campbell shouted to no one in particular at waking in a well-lit cylindrical metal tube.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing," said a disembodied voice.
Bill had jumped slightly at the answer he did not expect but otherwise showed no fear.
"Who the fuck are you?" Bill asked angrily. Today had started out crappy and had just gotten worse.
"Nobody, absolutely nobody."
"No shit. You're a fucking wealth of information, you are. Now tell me something I don't know."
"You're in a world of shit."
"I figured that now really tell me something I don't know."
"Once upon a time there was a man named Bill Campbell who fell through a hole in time and space. He just happened to stop at an inter-dimensional way-station on the fringes of a dying galaxy."
"No shit?" Bill said with amazement in his voice.
"No shit!" the disembodied voice replied dryly.
"Okay, how do I get back to where I belong?"
"Where do you belong?"
"Back home, on Earth.
"Earth? Where is that?"
"I don't know."
"Then how can I get you back where you belong?"
"I don't know. How did you know my name?"
"I scanned your id in your pocket as you entered the way-station."
"Are you a live person or a machine?"
"I am station one-twenty-seven. The A'lacar Consortium commissioned me in thirty-nine-forty, system standard. I am a state of the art, model six-twenty-one mark five, way-station."
"What year is now?"
"Year? What is a year?"
"A year is the time it takes my planet to orbit its sun."
"How long is that?"
"Three hundred and sixty-five days."
"What is a day?"
"It is the time it takes my planet to revolve around its axis, twenty-four hours."
"What is an hour?"
"It's the time it takes my planet to turn fifteen degrees on its axis. There are sixty minutes to an hour and point two five degrees in a minute. There are sixty seconds in a minute. A second is point two five degrees divided by sixty. There are three hundred and sixty degrees in a circle. Does that help?"
"Yes. In your terms, it is sixty-two-ninety-five system standard."
"How state of the art, can a three-thousand-year-old way-station be?"
"I was state of the art when I was commissioned is what I meant to say, which only seems like yesterday to me."
"Sure, sure. Okay station one-twenty-seven, why am I here?"
There was silence. Bill wondered if he had insulted the station, then wondered if you could insult a machine. The silence drew out, uncomfortably.
"In the beginning, there was darkness, at the end there will be darkness too. You, my friend, are in fact fast approaching that darkness."
"Which darkness?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it does you daft machine, of course, it does."
"Well, then it would be that darkness which comes at the end of things. Sorry."
"And how fast am I approaching that darkness?"
"What do you mean?"
"When will the darkness, when will I enter the darkness?"
"Not long from now."
"How long?"
"In galactic terms, sixth to the sixth to the sixth."
"Is that years, months, days, minutes or seconds?"
"Days, I believe. I could be wrong. No, it is days." You could almost hear the station shaking its non-existent head.
"You had me worried there for a second station one-twenty-seven."
"What do you mean?"
"The darkness won't come for sixth to the sixth to the sixth days. That's a long, long time from now."
"Who said anything about from now?"
"From when then?"
"From the beginning of time, of course."
"And how long ago was that?"
"It was sixth to the sixth to the sixth minus seven hundred and fifty-two days."
"What! That's only a little over two years from now?"
"Yes, it is, two years and twenty-two days. Sorry. Of course, that's only if you stay here."
"I have a choice?"
"There is always a choice."
"Then how long would I have?"
"That's hard to tell. How long do your species tend to live where you come from?"
"One hundred and two years."
"And how long have you been around so far?"
"Thirty-six years."
"Then I would have to say, barring any accidents or defects with your physiology, you have sixty or so years to live in any other place but here. But, I could be wrong."
"I see. So, you only have a little over two years to live. Isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Well surely you can move to avoid destruction, after all, you are a state of the art model six-twenty-one mark five way-station."
"Sadly, no."
"How did they get you here? Build in place or transport?"
"I was constructed down galaxy at one of the core systems. Then I was transported to this location."
"How were you transported?"
"They used a fusion-powered ion engine, capable of four gigagravs of thrust."
"Is that a lot? Never mind. Do you still have the engine?"
"Yes."
"Do you still have the fusion generator?"
"Yes."
"Are they still operating?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Jesus, you seem like a bright machine, user your noggin'."
"Oh, you mean use the generator and the engine to leave? I see. No. Impossible."
"Why?"
"I am currently using the power to maintain my current position, which is my primary mandate."
"Oh."
A silence fell between the two. Bill backed against a wall and slid to the floor. He sat thinking as time passed. Bill became conscious of a gnawing in his gut. He was hungry. Had he been here that long?
"One-twenty-seven how long have I been here?"
"Three hours and twenty of your minutes, give or take a few seconds."
"Do you have any food around here?"
"That is one of my many functions. What would you like? Rack of Radic-Vasal, Gris of Flooo or Stam of Bluis?"
"A cheeseburger would be nice?"
"You want fries with that?"
"Yes and a strawberry soda."
"Coming right up."
To Bill's surprise, a small door opened in the smooth wall across from him. A tray slid out with a cheeseburger, fries and a soda. Getting up he took the two steps across the station and the smell of a cheeseburger hit him in the face. Picking it up, he took a big bite. When the hot, seared meat hit his tongue, he moaned deep in his chest.
"I didn't know what you wanted on it, so I just put mustard and lettuce and tomato on it."
"It's perfect," mumbled Bill around the burger.
"Would you like a chair to sit in?"
"Yes please."
A stool just the right height popped up out of the floor just behind Bill. As he raised his leg to sit, the stool moved in under him.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Silence once again enveloped Bill as he ate. He was really enjoying his meal as he listened to the silence. When the station was not talking, there was absolutely no noise. Not even the hum of machines one would expect to hear.
"Is there a way to see outside?"
"Yes. Would you like to see outside?"
"Yes."
All of a sudden, Bill, was no longer surrounded by the station. He was sitting in his chair floating in deep space. Off to his right, he saw the galaxy, which was being sucked into itself.
"A window is all I meant, one-twenty-seven."
The walls were back and a window was in front of Bill. Bill's stomach settled down and he relaxed enough to be able to continue to enjoy his meal. As he took the last drink from his soda and placed the glass down on the tray, it drew back into the wall. The chair under him lowered and spread out into an overstuffed, very comfortable chair, which now faced a larger window in the side of the station. The view was magnificent.
"How did this happen?"
"The collapse of the galaxy?"
"Yes."
"To put it simply, my creators did it to themselves. They thought they could control, change and mold the natural laws to their will. They couldn't."
"What happened?"
"They tried to move the galaxy."
"What?"
"They tried to move the galaxy to another region of the universe."
"Why?"
"To see if they could."
"Did anyone survive?"
"Yes, several billion, if not trillions of people."
"Do they still live down there?"
"No."
"Where then?"
"Somewhere else."
"Oh, didn't even think to tell you or take you with?"