Giant Transdimensional Shitkicker (Part 4 and Conclusion of a Story)
Copyright © 2006 TWM. All rights reserved.
"Dilatator."
"The Dilatator system is ...," the computer hung fire for a moment, "operational." It sounded surprised. "Warning! Use of the Dilatator individual time-compression system poses proven irreversible health risks. Do you confirm --"
"Confirm!"
"Dilatator system engaged. Incoming Vitiator missile ... detonated. Shock."
"What about shock?" He felt badly compressed. Well, naturally.
"Wave." The computer's emissions sounded strange, as if badly red-shifted.
The compression continued, becoming painful.
There was an amazing graphic on the monitor, apparently a still image of the delicate blue-white bubble of the first phase of a Vitiator missile detonation. No, the image wasn't coming from the monitor. He was seeing the actual detonation shining through the globule's hull. It was quite beautiful, a froth of glowing bubbles. And it wasn't moving -- Dilatator had apparently worked.
The image darkened in stages as, one by one, Amnin's light-sensing organs shut down. The Dilatator system was not exactly an escape or defense. What it did was give the appearance of slowing the universe down, "enabling the user to live out a full and satisfying life in the instants remaining before an unfortunate annihilation." Amnin was being physically compressed to the size of a star, while his mind accelerated to millions of times its former rate. Paralysis and blindness were unfortunate side effects. But any apocalyptic, intergalactic war you can walk away from is a good one, he felt.
And at least now maybe he could catch up on his sleep.
The End
(With apologies to Haruki Murakami, who somehow makes a time-slowing ending actually work in his novel Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. I'm aware that it doesn't work here. Serves me right for stealing something I don't even know how to use.)
"Dilatator."
"The Dilatator system is ...," the computer hung fire for a moment, "operational." It sounded surprised. "Warning! Use of the Dilatator individual time-compression system poses proven irreversible health risks. Do you confirm --"
"Confirm!"
"Dilatator system engaged. Incoming Vitiator missile ... detonated. Shock."
"What about shock?" He felt badly compressed. Well, naturally.
"Wave." The computer's emissions sounded strange, as if badly red-shifted.
The compression continued, becoming painful.
There was an amazing graphic on the monitor, apparently a still image of the delicate blue-white bubble of the first phase of a Vitiator missile detonation. No, the image wasn't coming from the monitor. He was seeing the actual detonation shining through the globule's hull. It was quite beautiful, a froth of glowing bubbles. And it wasn't moving -- Dilatator had apparently worked.
The image darkened in stages as, one by one, Amnin's light-sensing organs shut down. The Dilatator system was not exactly an escape or defense. What it did was give the appearance of slowing the universe down, "enabling the user to live out a full and satisfying life in the instants remaining before an unfortunate annihilation." Amnin was being physically compressed to the size of a star, while his mind accelerated to millions of times its former rate. Paralysis and blindness were unfortunate side effects. But any apocalyptic, intergalactic war you can walk away from is a good one, he felt.
And at least now maybe he could catch up on his sleep.
The End
(With apologies to Haruki Murakami, who somehow makes a time-slowing ending actually work in his novel Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. I'm aware that it doesn't work here. Serves me right for stealing something I don't even know how to use.)
posted by Project WANNABE at 7:36 AM
3 Comments:
You should do a sequel where he is compressed to a singularity and there is a big bang and it turns out he's actually the Universe. In fact, he could change his name to Mr. Universe.
Holy crap, someone actually finished reading this thing!
Good idea. Though I've never understood the popularity of the Mr. Universe thing. Who wants to watch a bunch of cosmologists strutting around in speedos?
Bada boom.
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