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Event Horizon

"Step right inside and see the home of the future, today!"

Marin hid a smile as she walked past the portly beaver standing atop a dais, despite the shrillness the other mammal's voice gained through the megaphone. The chrome, "home of the future" would fit better in a museum than in any modern architect's design files. With its conical roof and circular shape, building atop or beside it would be impossible. How odd, to consider owning enough land for a yard to be "normal". She capped it anyway, blinking twice so her Retcams would store the image of the tuxedoed beaver and the home.

Moving through small knots of people--mostly families, with the odd group of suited business folk perusing inventors' stalls for the next big product--Marin kept her distance. The Levi's and paisley blouse she wore looked like the real thing, but anyone who touched the silken smoothness of the synth-weave garments might spot her as an outsider. Nothing would come of it, but still... There were rules to follow.

Among the booths, the clean scent of recently trimmed grass melded with the heavier tang of oil, the odd puff of smoke. Many of the inventions being shown here related to farming or heavy industry, all clacking gears and whirring conveyor belts. Unsurprising in rural pre-merger Ohio. She mostly ignored them, only capping general shots of the mingling crowd. With the exception of the gecko showing off an improved rototiller, none of these devices had stood the test of more than a decade.

Except one.

His booth looked incredibly out of place; a tiny thing squeezed between that of a falcon showing off his automatic hay baler, and a fellow otter displaying a contraption with flashing coloured lights that was supposed to deter pests. Both of the stalls had a small gaggle of professional and civilian onlookers. None paid any mind to the slender fox in the middle display, who nudged his glasses up his nose as he worried at a tangle of wires poking out of the unassuming metal box on the table before him.

Dressed in a pressed white shirt with a purple tie hanging slightly askew, there was no mistaking Josiah Vinkler, even much younger than most of the caps she'd seen of him. His eyes lit up as she approached, his ears perking.

"Uh, hi, are you here to um, look at my machine?" He dropped his gaze as he spoke, as if unsure he was allowed to look her in the eye, and drummed his fingers on the side of the metal box. "It um, wasn't working earlier, but I think I've got it going again."

Marin smiled, though he still wasn't looking at her. "What does it do?"

On the outside, it didn't look like much. A pair of glass tubes protruded through drilled holes on the top. Several dials and switches graced the front, and the mess of wiring spilled from the open side as if the thing had been grievously wounded. Two metal prongs from the back connected to a wire loop. Like its owner, there was no mistaking it. She'd seen it and its successor models in many of her texts.

"It... moves things," Josiah said, tapping the top of the box. "Or, it's supposed to. I think one of the fuses might have..." He shook his head, his ears flattening. "Maybe I can, ah, show you?"

"Yes please!" Marin had already triggered her cams to full record. She was about to get a first prototype demonstration, from the mammal himself! Above and beyond for her thesis, but prof Elava would love this footage!

Muttering something like, "work, please", under his breath, the fox rummaged beneath the table a moment before producing a brick. He set it next to the device and placed the wire loop around it, adjusted one of the dials, then flipped a switch that lit up a green indicator.

"Please watch closely."

Marin zoomed in until the brick nearly filled her vision. With the enhanced optics, she could pick up the faint shimmer around the brick as its molecules began to react to the device's building charge. A moment ticked by. The faint aroma of ozone tickled her nose. Josiah's nails tapped a staccato pattern on the table. Then, the brick rippled, as if it had abruptly turned to liquid, though somehow maintained its solid form. Its borders shifted, displaced faster than even her eyes could track. The ripple vanished, leaving behind a faint scent of burnt copper, and the brick approximately one inch to the left of its original position.

Marin forced her wild glee down to a tiny smile as she glanced back up at Josiah. She'd seen the Transit many times, but this was the first! "That was groovy. What do you call it?"

"Groovy?"

Dammit. That phrase hadn't been adopted yet! Period lingo had never been her forte. Belatedly, she stopped recording. "Sorry, I'm from California. It's cool, you dig?"

"Ah!" His ears perked. "I'm glad. I haven't thought of a proper name yet, but I'm sure you can see there are hundreds of amazing possibilities for this kind of technology. The range is rather limited right now, but I believe with a better power supply and more efficient conductors, it could be increased to a level suitable for industrial use."

Biting back all of the things she wanted to say was the hardest moment of Marin's twenty-three years. She flashed him a wide smile. "I'm no business person, but I think you're onto something. You'll keep working on it, I hope."

"Of course. I only wish an investor would agree with you."

"Just give it some time." Much as she wanted to stay and cap more footage that would be breaking the rules. No more than a few minutes of interaction with any subject; it risked creating a lasting impression. Reaching out, she patted the back of his hand. "You'll make it work."

He jolted, glasses slipping down his muzzle. "Ah, thanks. Might I ask your name, Miss...?"

She was already turning to leave. "Good luck!" she called over her shoulder. Two suited mammals were approaching, intrigued by the activity at Josiah's booth. She slipped between the tiger and the weasel, into the anonymity of the fair's crowd. New students of MSU's Quantum Studies program often didn't grasp the concept--protocol wasn't to make no ripples at all--that was impossible. The key was ensuring those ripples didn't affect events. One couldn't physically alter a person or large object in the past, but plenty of damage could be done by words and ideas planted in the wrong ears at the wrong time.

A quiet spot behind one of the rows of booths presented an ideal location for her Transit home. What might she title her thesis? The review panel would find it satisfactory, no question. She could almost picture the, "Master of Quantum Dynamics" above her name!

Glancing about for watching eyes, she drew the sleek chrome cylinder of her university issue Vinklertek Beacon from her pocket and thumbed on the holo-display. The tracking readout showed minor interference from Josiah's device--within acceptable parameters. She tapped the blinking "Recall" icon, mentally bracing for the mild lurch of Transit.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, she inspected the display. An error message had appeared in the middle. Component failure? Icy cold dripped down her spine, followed by heat warming her face. Dammit! Yes, she'd been using this unit fairly heavily, but surely nothing to cause heavy damage. Had she made some rookie error?

Tapping the message brought up a more detailed diagnostic, and the clammy fingers gripping her chest eased. Just an overloaded circuit, a quick fix with her multi-tool... She frowned, patting herself down. Where was it? She couldn't possibly have forgotten it in the lab... A growl rolled from her throat. Stupid! Even with her recent long study hours. Luckily, this would be an easy fix. All she needed was a soldering iron. Electronics stores of this era should have unsophisticated, but suitable tools.

In fact...

Moving quickly behind the booths, Marin retraced her steps until she arrived at the rear of Josiah's. She cocked an ear, listening intently above the assorted whirring, clattering, and crowd noise.

"I'm not convinced this technology has industrial application," someone was saying. "If you could provide a demonstration on a larger scale, and especially one where it doesn't immediately break down, then perhaps, but as it is..."

Josiah started to reply, defending his invention, but Marin tuned out the conversation. As she'd hoped, he had a small toolbox stashed at the back of his booth--any inventor worth his salt would! Easing open the lid, she took stock: a hammer, screwdrivers, wire...

"...another try. Allow me to repair it."

Movement from the front of the booth. Marin drew in a sharp breath. There! Tucked beneath a pair of pliers. She snatched the tool and darted away before Josiah could catch her in the act, leaving the toolbox open and breathing silent apology and encouragement to her long-dead idol.

It works, just show them!

Marin ducked into a row of cars parked on the grass near the booths, slipped behind the cab of a pickup truck and glanced back through its windows. Josiah stood before his toolbox, looking back and forth, hands on his hips. After a moment, he shook his head and began rummaging, tail twitching. He would be fine. Dropping cross-legged between the ancient vehicles, she pulled out her Beacon and the borrowed butane soldering iron, popping open the Beacon's housing to inspect the damage. There was the culprit--a capacitor trailing a thin curl of smoke. Cheap part. These were supposed to be rated for up to ten consecutive Transits.

It only took a few minutes of tinkering to repair the circuit. Not her best work, but the connection was clean, and it would get her home. Nodding to herself, she snapped the case closed and pulled up the display. The tracking was clear, no error messages...

"Bye, Josiah." She pressed "Recall".

Her belly lurched. Reality twisted into an event horizon, so near yet so far...

...And resolved into the same green sedan she'd been looking at when she'd left.

Marin's skin crawled. Transits never failed partway through. The display was hard to read from her hand's shaking as she lifted the Beacon. Another error message. "No signal." Of all the rotten luck! The Slipstream back at the lab must be having an issue again. She'd have to wait until they fixed it, which could be hours. Wobbling to her feet, she trudged back toward Josiah's booth. Might as well return his soldering iron. This would make a heck of a story later!

The toolbox was gone. Dammit! She'd have to return it to him directly. Steeling herself, Marin circled the booth. Hopefully he wouldn't ask too many questions.

Josiah stood alone, packing his things into a pair of wooden crates. His ears lay flat, eyes downcast. He looked up as she approached, and a faint smile twitched over his muzzle. "Hello again. May I help you?"

"Uh, yes..." Marin's brow furrowed. "You're not leaving, are you?" He couldn't leave. This was the day he showed his invention to the world for the first time!

"Afraid so. Couldn't get it to perform in front of any investors, and looks like I forgot to bring my soldering iron like a proper fool. No sense sticking around with a dead machine." He picked up his prototype, giving it a rap with his knuckles before putting it into the crate. "Might as well pack it in and try my luck another day."

Marin's eyes widened. No signal. It couldn't be...

Josiah shrugged, but his ears remained pinned to his skull. "Maybe my dad was right after all. Should just take a job in the factory. At least those pay."

The world was spinning. Had the Transit suddenly kicked in? It didn't usually feel like falling though...

"Are you alright, Miss? Miss?! Someone help! I think she's fainted!"