Large Hadron Doomsday Device - wethington.mewethington.me

This is my first post dredging up some of my stories from the original, and long-defunct, ficlets.com. After AOL unceremoniously killed the site, Kevin Lawver and friends remade it into Ficly.com; Sadly many of the great writers that made Ficlets.com fun never made the transition. There are some very talented people that now write at Ficly, but the traffic is far less than Ficlets had, and many of the people that made the transition are not longer posting stories.

Luckily, Kevin was able to save most of the stories that were posted on the original Ficlets.com site and he created an archive that is still accessible. So, in an attempt to save a few of the stories that I either wrote, or was involved in, I am going to start reposting some of my favorites here. In the same way that I have made a habit of including shared stories – sequels and prequels – from Ficly, I’ll post entire chains into a single post with a link to the original authors of those pieces.

So, this is the first in a series that was started by Stovohobo on September 9th, 2008, shortly after the announcement that the Large Hadron Collider was coming online. The series came from the minds of four authors, the last several being a back and forth between Charles Andrew Bates and myself. We all recall the hiccups the LHC went through after it first became operational, however the scientists have recently made many ground-breaking discoveries re-writing the rules surrounding the speed of light. So, it was sort of timely to have find these Ficlets again. I was thinking I might turn this into a longer short fiction story. We shall see.

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(originally posted by Stovohobo)

2009

“So. You hear they’re about to start the first full-power testing of the Large Hadron Collider?”

“The what?”

“That huge project underneath Geneva. S’been all over the news.”

“Oh, that thing.”

“Yeah, that – “

“Wait, that thing!”

“…Yeah, it – “

“Oh my freaking gosh, Kyle, do you know what this means? I figured it was just like a diversion for scientists to put their minds to, not an actual experiment!”

“For eleven billion bucks and twenty years? Yeah, a diversion.”

“Kyle, we’re gonna die! Do you know how positively lethal this thing is? It’s terrifying; it’s gonna be Armageddon!”

“This is about the big bang, not Armageddon.”

“Black holes, Kyle, black holes!”

“Stephen Hawking said that’s nearly impossible. One in fifty million chance, they say.”

“People win the lottery on those chances! Oh my freakin – we are screwed, Kyle we are so screwed.”

(Originally posted by ALRO613)

December 12, 2012
“Dr. Reyes?”

The scientist looked up from his notepad, “Bill?” Reyes stood, taking the man’s hand.

“Doctor, I hear you’ve made a discovery!” Bill was the money behind the project, after the Geneva Crisis in Twenty-Ten.

“Umm, yes,”

“You don’t sound so sure!”

“Well,” Conrad Reyes took his glasses off, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve gone over the numbers a hundred times and it seems we were wrong,”

“Wrong? Wrong how?” Bill stuffed his hands in his pockets nervously.

“When we said firing protons into each other would not be dangerous; we were wrong. A hole is opening and we cannot stop it.” Dr. Reyes swallowed.

“Protons collide with other protons all the time in the upper-stratosphere. How can this be?”

“Controlled bursts within the same collider thousands of times a day, each one in a controlled space. A rift is opening,”

“A rift to where?”

Dr. Conrad Reyes hadn’t the time to answer as darkness filled the laboratory and swallowed Geneva within seconds.

They’d been wrong.

(Originally posted by Charles Andrew Bates; also known as Devilbear.net)

2012

The helicopter bucked in the atmospheric disturbance. Even with hardened systems, it was almost impossible to fly. Still, Seifert caught a good view as they landed outside Lausanne. It looked like God used a giant ice cream scoop to scrape up Geneva—and 100 kilometers surrounding it.

Lightning and thunder roiled in the torn sky as Seifert headed for the command bunker. The team was crammed inside with monitoring gear. “What’s the latest?”

“Sir.” Rast pointed to the display bank. “ROV is still tracking.”

“How far?”

“GPS is out due to the microwave disruptions. Best guess is two klicks.”

Seifert frowned. “Are they ours?”

“Feed is too fuzzy, but I’d hazard a negative. Initial analysis indicates that they’re over two meters tall. Also, facial structure is definitely not human norm.”

Seifert shot his second a look. “You aren’t suggesting these are creatures from the center of the earth.”

“I can’t say, sir.” Rast offered a tight smile. “But they’re certainly not from around here.”

From the bottom of the crater they watched the mostly-water bags buzzing about in their tin flying machine. They probably should have positioned the observation lab much deeper, below the mantel. It wouldn’t have been that difficult, and it certainly would have been a more comfortable temperature. No; it would have been impossible to hear the thoughts from such weak minds.

How do they manage it, these humans? the alien thought, pointing to the sky.Even when they are on the edge of evolving they manage to create such desolation?

Perhaps we were wrong about them. Maybe they weren’t yet ready, thought its companion.

Well, now they’ve seen us.

Yes, they have. So, now the killing starts?

Amusing that they started it and not us. You can’t toy with the fabric of the universe and not expect consequences. The alien turned and walked back into the breach as its companion stood still, its eyes tracking the mass of tin machines closing on them.

Yes, they started it. Now we are the ones to end it.

(Originally posted by Charles Andrew Bates)

The crawler ratcheted down the crater’s steep curve. A prototype Alpine rescue vehicle, it looked like a snowcat with a gimbal-mounted cab that kept occupants upright at all times.

“Transmission status?” Though looking calm to the rest of the team, Seifert’s heart was a triphammer as the crawler drew near the unidentified life forms.

Rast’s voice crackled in his headset. “All readings nominal. The energy spikes from the ULFs have stabilized.”

“Have we determined the cause yet?”

“No, sir. But analysis says we’re still within safe protocol.”

Seifert wondered if the analysts would change their tune if they were down here with him.

The crawler clanked to a stop. His team’s expressions of excitement and fear were evident even through the hazard suit faceplates.

“Base to First Contact One. You are go.”

Seifert nodded to Gygax, who triggered the exterior display to scroll the binary equivalent of peaceful greetings.

“Affirmative, Base.” Seifert adjusted his hazard suit and clambered from the crawler.

It watched intently, with all of its eyes, as the tin machine with tracks crawled to a stop a few meters away. This is a new machine, more living than dead,thought the alien.

They’ve come to communicate with us, it thought to its companion below.

Protocol demands that we initiate contact only when we are ready. We’ve no way to communicate with them; their minds are too weak to handle our thoughts. Perhaps the machine?

No, it has no brain. Shall I kill them?

Not yet. Let’s see what they do first. Maybe we were right.

The tin machine, it’s head swaying front to back, disgorged the human and he leapt to the ground. A message of greeting, in the human language, scrolled across the machines eyes. Peace.

As a multitude of the flying machines circled above, the alien raised its long hands, eyes out, mimicking the human.

Hello, it thought as softly as it could at the human.

The human crumpled to the ground, grasping his head.

I hope you didn’t kill it, came a thought from its companion.

(Originally posted by Charles Andrew Bates)

The command bunker was a cacophony of klaxons, digital alarms and panicked shouting. Rast yelled into his microphone, adding to the din.

“Base to First Contact One! Colonel Seifert has flatlined. Report current status immediately! First Contact One, please resp—” Rast broke off as the vital sign monitors for Gygax, Acklin and Burkhart fell flat just like Seifert’s.

“Shit.” Rast switched channels, his voice tight but calm. “Base to defense forces. We are at Condition Omega. First contact team is down; unidentified life forms are considered hostile. I repeat: We are at Condition Omega.”

The scientist in Rast didn’t agree with the Omega Protocol—a massive retaliatory strike if the first contact team was disabled. Still, he was soldier enough that he held to procedure. It was not his place to rewrite NATO policy on the fly.

As activity around the Hadron crater escalated to fever pitch, Rast’s eyes stayed glued to the vital sign monitors. Show me something. Before it’s too late.

(Originally posted by Charles Andrew Bates)

Even at our most gentle, said the other, it’s too much for their frail forms.

Unfortunate. Perhaps… do you sense that? The pair of narrow heads turned skyward in unison. Energy surges across multiple spectra: Electrical, combustion, synaptic.

Yes; the pattern is clear. Protocol demands a preemptive strike when hostile spectra are confirmed.

The one gazed at the soft forms scattered by the tin machine. These were a diversion? Executed poorly, if so.

Its companion focused on the first form. No… Ah. A faint connection back the way they came. A way to see the condition of their people from a distance.

Crude but effective, replied the one. Now that is interesting. The mind observing the connection is strong compared to these others.

The time is past. Protocol—

Let’s not be hasty. Time yet before these clumsy beings pose any real threat.The one projected with the gentlest touch. Greetings, one called Benjamin Rast. We come in peace. I would advise against any rash action.

Rast’s eyes remain glued to the vital signs, willing them to move. Suddenly, three of the four lines spiked and new alarms added to the clamor.Thank sweet baby jesus.

His hand flicked the com switch; “Stand down! I repeat: stand down. Vitals spiked on Gygax, Acklin, and Burkhart; we remain Condition Omega. Colonel Seifert is flatlined, hold positions.”

Rast began to stand when a white-hot pain began expanding behind his eyes. He dropped into his chair, eyes tightly shut and mouth agape, his hands clamped over his ears to protect them from the resonance coming into his mind.

Greetings, it roared quietly.

Moments later, the message complete, the pain subsided.

“Wait,” he said standing, blood flowing from his ears, “just wait. They’re talking to me – images, sounds – directly into my mind. Painful, but clear.”

“We can commu…,” he began. A crackling sound, like violent popcorn, split the air – a thin, jagged line of light appeared six inches in front of Rast and flashed, engulfing him. He was gone.

The first one, from the new tin machine, said the One ,He is dead. They value the oneself over the ourselves and will likely retaliate. We must be careful since we’ve broken protocol.

Yes, said the other,it would be best if we moved to a safer position.

They watched the three soft ones begin to stir. Rast can withstand the twining. We must armor his mind to keep from destroying it with signs, the One thought as it moved away from the other, deliberately and with purpose,Commune with the ourselves. Have them cradle his mind while we communicate.

In unison they touched jewels located on their wrists. Crackling thunder split the air as a thick, jagged line of light appeared between them, flashed and engulfed them.

North Rim

As the thunder subsided, the One, the other, and Rast stood facing one another in the gentle wind beneath a stand of Alder trees.

The spectra remains attached to him. They know he is here. We’ve little time to convince him that we’ve shifted the Hadron to protect them.

(Originally posted by Charles Andrew Bates)

Rast tore the hood from his hazard suit to escape the acrid reek of vomit. He felt like he’d just been turned inside out. Gulping cold air, the dry heaves subsided—and were replaced by panic.

Not in the bunker. Where… Did I black out?

NO.

Rast shrieked, a vise of agony crushing his mind.

The pain was gone an instant later. A figure knelt before him, its wrist touching his forehead. Rast felt something pulsing there—a crystal of some sort.

Even cradled, your mind is still too fragile. This device should suffice to protect you for necessary dialog.

Like a surge protector, Rast thought. It wasn’t words so much as understanding. The crystal imparted clarity and awareness of sentience from the figure before him, with more

…others…

at the fringes of thought. Yet beneath the crystal-imparted calm lurked terror and wonder that threatened to suck him under.

Rast strove to focus, his critical faculties serving as a kind of psychological life vest. Who are you? What do you want?

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Original posts, in order as posted on ficlets.com; now preserved in the ficlets.ficly.com archive; * are my posts:

Large Hadron Doomsday Device – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/41811

Hadron’s Folly – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/41831

The Hadron Aftermath – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/42352

*Hadron Above – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/42401

Hadron First Contact – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/4242

*Hadron Greetings – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/42436

Hadron: Omega Protocol – http://ficlets.ficly.com/stories/42476