Inktober #19: Sling

"T Minus five minutes til Sling Shot."

I flex my grip, test out the controls. Emergency button on the inner right glove. Forward and back in the legs. Spin and counterbalance in the left arm, speed and direction in the right. Full sensor diagnostic supply in the helmet.

The wings etched onto the side of the helmet...just for fun.

"T Minus four minutes til Sling Shot."

Everything's prepped. Just four minutes to wait it out as everyone else around paces frantically and taps buttons more for their own personal sanity than actual effect. It's all been tested. Double tested. Tested millions of times. An error rate of only 2%.

"T Minus three minutes til Sling Shot."

The very first faster-than-light personal suit. The very first human pilot. I'm gonna get to see Utopia up close. Hell, the entire Andromeda galaxy. More. I get to be the first solitary interstellar human.

"T Minus two minutes til Sling Shot."

Rob comes over, of course he does.
"Doing okay in there?"
"Snug as a bug about to hit the windshield."
"Hey, that was ONE TIME."
"Relax, Rob. I know you've got all this down. I'm gonna be fine."
Rob takes my hand. It seems like a nice romantic moment until,
"I swear that emergency button feels a little sticky, let's just call an hour hold and I can mess with it, really make sure it's-"
"-Darling. Leave it. Everything will work out. I swear I won't go too far and we've got ships waiting everywhere around the system and beyond just in case."

"T Minus one minute til Sling Shot."

"Right, better get back to the controls." He puts his head against my helmet. "Stay safe out there."
"And you stay safe back here, Rob."

One final moment, and he's back, nervously pacing by the controls.

"Ten."
"Nine."
Rob stops and keeps his finger on the trigger.
"Eight."
"Seven."
I take what feels like the deepest breath of my life.
"Six."
"Five."
"Four."
Everything is engaged.
"Three."
"Two."
"TIME TO GO TO SPACE BABY!"
"One."
"Sling Shot engaged."

And faster than any human had ever gone before I shot through the cannon-like tunnel before me, passing Jupiter in a heartbeat, flying through empty space, zooming into Andromeda and seeing Utopia before me....

Until a heartbeat later I heard the siren. And opened my eyes.

I was still in the lab.

The first note of the emergency siren blared continuously, like it was stuck.

And the people...Everyone looked panicked. And nobody was moving.

Not like, so shocked in horror that they felt like they couldn't move, but literally weren't moving. The normally spinning emergency light was still going but...slowly. Incredibly slowly.

Until it stopped.

And then started going backwards. And then the lights were off. And everybody started to move again. But...backwards too.

Oh no.

We had accounted for breaking Einstein's laws. Our success in faster-than-light travel accounted for time dilation.

Or so we thought.

I tried straining my thumb towards the inside of my right palm, seemingly held back by some force, as I myself started to move backwards, beyond where I began. Everyone was moving a little faster now, Rob's face coming towards mine and a look of confusion as where I had been was no longer where I had been.

It was all getting to be a little too much for me to handle. My perception of reality itself began to shift.

Everything moved faster.

I was being pulled away. Out from the lab, from the building, from the city. Into the atmosphere.

I was in space.

The display was still running. It confirmed the worst.

I wasn't being pulled towards something. I was exactly where I had been.

The earth had moved.

No no no. Not like this.

There was still force on the emergency button. It had been sticky, damn it.

I panicked. I remained in space at the exact point I had been flung from. But time moved around me. I would be here forever. For eternity. Out of time until some other planet or star came through this exact spot...

Wait. The emergency may be sticky, but the navigation...

Works. It works.

I can't move fast enough to catch the earth as it falls away, but I can catch it when it comes back around.

I maneuver into position. I can't believe it still works. The suit works. Even now. I start gearing up to keep pace with the spin, the orbit, the speed of the earth itself. I may not be able to interact with it but I should be able to keep up long enough to get the emergency switch to work.

I see it in the distance approaching. Now or never.

It comes in fast, but I'm able to balance it. I sink towards the planet and adjust to hit the lab as it comes by.

But as I descend, keeping pace with the spin of the earth, I nearly recoil in horror. How could it have been so long? It should only have been a year!

Gone was all semblance of modern technology. The earth itself looked dimmer. No ships traveled to The Swing around the Moon. No flying transports of any kind dotted the sky beyond primitive planes, and even those seemed sparse. The display in front of me quickly computes based on position, tech, and historical record that I am currently descending into the April 19th, 2020, just outside of Washington D.C..

I maneuver into what looks like an abandoned alley, wary that anyone choosing to look up would see something altogether unreasonable...a spaceman in a suit beyond comprehension falling upwards into the sky from an alley. At least, from their perspective in time. Is it even possible to be seen in this state? If I can't touch the Earth-

And then I touched the Earth.

And a bird flies by, but not in reverse.

It's stopped.

I check the chronometric readings...sure enough. I'm back in relative time.

An old-timey car drives by. No. Modern, here, now. I don't think I've been seen.

The sun shines brightly. By all measures a beautiful spring day. The sounds of the occasional car engine rise and then fall as they pass on a nearby road. I can hear voices above me, windows open to apartments. Boxes...air conditioners my display tells me, hang over other windows but they are not on. No need yet.

I catch myself in my reverie. I little know what my being here could do to the future. Likely I've already entered a parallel dimension anyways, but...can't be too careful.

I test out the emergency button. Still stuck. I'll need tools.

21st century tools.

Sure.

Doable.

Not wanting to risk being thrown off Earth again I plant one foot ahead, then the next, never fully leaving the ground. Will I be flung back in time should I jump off the ground? Maybe. Maybe not. I'll stick with what's working for now.

I make my way to end of the alley, keeping sensors attuned for footsteps or the approach of anyone I may need to hide from. Clear, for now.

In fact...quite clear. Suspiciously clear. Don't tell me that's busted too now?

I venture a peek beyond the wall. I am on a residential street. Sounds of cars in the near distance tell of a more major road but for now there is no traffic here. No traffic of any kind. No cars, no people. On a sunny day like this it seems unusual not to catch sight of people lounging in the shade, going for a walk, admiring the vegetation.

Ah. The historical record. I see. A pandemic. Another quick hope flickers that the sterilizing skin on this suit remains intact. I, of course, would be immune, but should I travel back in time again...I dare not bring this with me.

Well at least I should have an easy time remaining hidden. As I myself admire the vegetation.

Not everything has changed with time.

Keeping sensors active they ping on a toolbox in a shed by the side of a modest home. I make my way over, carefully, jutting between walls and corners to avoid the few stragglers who wander out for the fresh air or to walk their animals. A simple crude gate stands in the way. Just beyond it, the shed. No way around it, not without leaving the ground. I unhook the latch, open it, walk through, close it, and rehook as fast as I possibly can. There was a creak.

There is a window.

I hurry to the shed, pull open the unlocked door and step inside, shutting it behind me.

A little glow emanates from my helmet to illuminate the space. A crude toolbox awaits on what is presumably a work/craft table. I examine the components. Simple, but should be effective. There is a window into the shed and I can sense movement in the house. I must find a more secluded spot to work.

I exit the shed, back to the gate, and-

Very sudden movement.

It stops.

By the window.

I turn.

There staring back at me is an open mouthed 34 year old male holding a slumped cat who appears to have been caught in the middle of something.

We both stare for what feels like a full minute but is in fact 3.7 seconds.

I panic, and begin to run. I make it two ungainly strides towards the gate before there is an infinitesimal gap between both my feet and the ground.

I rise.

And spin.

And crack my head on the gate before spiraling once more out into space as the Earth falls far behind and the chronometer starts to spin backwards.

The Earth goes around once before I can even reassert my position, maneuvering with the toolbox in one hand, thankfully still intact.

The Earth goes around a second time. It's accelerating.

On the third time around I am able to once again keep pace and descend. I need a stable surface to do the repair. And I cannot let go of that toolbox.

No electric lights whatsoever now.

I realize belatedly that the Earth is now spinning faster and the suit is reaching the point when it will no longer be able to keep up.

I can't control where I land.

And I really need to hit land.

I lock in the best trajectory I can.

5...Oh good, there are pyramids at least.
4...That sure looks like the Great Wall, though not nearly so Great yet.
3...Oh wow...the full Amazon rainforest...
2...That's...that's a big army. In the Alps. With...elephants? Oh shit that's Hannibal!
1...I can catch the top of that mountain. Always wanted to visit Greece!

My toes catch the tip of a . It's enough to slow me down as I hit the side of a mountain, rocket up to the summit, and catch myself just before launching into the air again.

I take a couple deep breaths. The toolbox is still in hand, good.

The sensors start pinging. Movement. A lot of it.

I look to my left...at a temple. And a lot of people in togas.

I must've been quite the sight, moving that fast.

Eesh. Definitely in a parallel dimension now.

Worshipers come pouring out of the temple at the ruckus. I slowly stand and face them. Let's see if the translation software is working.

"You have nothing to fear," I say, as reassuring as can be. "I come in peace."

There is a long silence that lasts precisely 7.4 seconds.

And then they all start bowing. Chanting. Bringing offerings from before a statue to place at my feet.

"Oh, wow, no, please. What?"

And then the translation comes through. They're chanting for "Hermes".

Sure enough I check the statue, and there's the winged helm.

And then I put it together.

A super fast blur rockets up to the temple of a speedy god...and he has wings etched into his helmet. It was supposed to be a joke, damn it.

I really need to fix that button.

Well...when in Greece...

"Thank you, my people. I am very...appreciative. Um...can anyone lead me to a sturdy table?"

One worshiper stands and beckons towards the temple. A table that is hopefully used for only cleanly offerings stands there.

"Thanks, friend. Um...blessings to you."

They stand back in awe.

Great.

I take off the glove, disconnect the proper circuits, and start to as delicately as I can repair the emergency button.

The worshipers gather around to watch, marveling at the strange tools which look similar to their own but with more refined purpose.

Surely that won't lead to anything, I bravely convince myself.

It takes a good hour, tinkering there, being watched. But the button comes unstuck. As far as I can tell, it should work. I reconnect the circuits, put the glove on, and turn back to all the waiting faces.

"I shall never forget your generosity and hospitality this day."

More awe.

"Right...let's hope this works."

And I push the bu-

///

"T Minus five minutes til Sling Shot."

I flex my grip, test out the controls. Emergency button on the inner right glove. Forward and back in the legs. Spin and counterbalance in the left arm, speed and direction in the right. Full sensor diagnostic supply in the helmet.

The wings etched onto the side of the helmet...just for fun.

"T Minus four minutes til Sling Shot."

Everything's prepped. Just four minutes to wait...while...

Wait.

"T Minus three minutes til Sling Shot."

This is...weird. Deja Vu in the most major way. I look around, but everyone seems to be fine.

"T Minus two minutes til Sling Shot."

Rob comes over.
"Doing okay in there?"
"I...I'm not sure, Rob."
"...What? Getting nervous?"
"No, Rob. There's...it's like..."
"Hey, hey. You're gonna be fine. First solo interstellar trip! Everything's good on our end."
"ROB!"
...

"T Minus one minute til Sling Shot."
"Rob we need to cancel."
"What?"
"We need to cancel, something's wrong."
"Are you-"
"NOW."
"Alright! Alright! JEN, SHUT IT DOWN!"

Bustle. Switches flipped.

"Countdown aborted."

Looks of confusion. And everyone's looking.

"Rob, get me out of this."
"Yeah, yeah sure."

He comes closer, and I realize I've been squeezing the emergency button this whole time. Weird.

He reaches out to me, to help take off the helmet. My dear Rob. I reach to take his hand in mine instead.

And I let go of the button.

///