Displacement Zero - A Character-Focused SciFi Novel

The next morning, Aurelie arrived at 08:35.

“Careful there,” murmured DesUas, eyes tracking the Human as she made her way towards her desk, “or you’ll be written up again”

“I was awake, washed, dressed, ready to come in, so why shouldn’t I come in?” the Human in question griped, depositing the steaming thermos of caffeinated beverage next to her notes on Hominus G. “It’s not like I’m going to do anything with the extra half hour.”

“Don’t use my code,” said DesUas, but it was half hearted at best.

“Some of us have hobbies, you know,” chided Alvedo, peering around the screen that took up most of his desk. “If nothing else you could have stopped at the beverage dispensary and perused this morning’s current events in the stand.” Aurelie shrugged.

“What’s the point? They’ll have changed in four hours.” With no current events of its own, per se, the SC provided its inhabitants with a range of current events information documents from the various universe intersects of that time unit, helpfully translated into universal script. It meant that there was no continuity between issues, but some, like Alvedo, still found them interesting for light reading.

Others, like Aurelie, did not.

“Besides, I have hobbies," she added.

“Training isn’t a hobby,” said DesUas, smirking.

“I wasn’t going to say training.”

“Maintaining your gear and uniform isn’t a hobby either,” said Alvedo, his gaze returning to the screen.

“I wasn’t going to say that either.”

“Additionally, push-ups do not count as a hobby,” he continued. She waited until he glanced back at her, then walked her wheelie chair out from behind her desk and towards his, maintaining eye contact all the while. Without looking away, she took a long drink from her thermos. If Alvedo were Human, she was sure he would be sweating. As it was, he was starting to look uneasy.

“Don’t use my code,” came DesUas’ voice from behind her, and suddenly the thermos was gone. Aurelie pushed her chair back from Alvedo’s desk, almost toppling with the explosive movement.

“You made me blink! Why did you make me blink? I nearly had him beat!”

“Aurelie, we’ve been through this.” Alvedo looked concerned. “I don’t have eyelids.”

Aurelie shook her head and walked her chair back to her desk, trying to hide her smile. DesUas placed the now empty thermos back in front of her, failing to keep her face stern.

“Do you need to go through the sensitivity training again?”

“No, not at all miss; I’ll buy him eyelids, so that in the future he can be normal like the rest of us.” They both grinned, and Aurelie turned her attention to the screen, fully intent on getting down to business. She stopped, though, when DesUas put a nutrition shake down next to the empty thermos.

“You barely touched your food last night, and I know you haven’t eaten yet this morning. Just because your mind and focus are elsewhere doesn’t mean you don’t need calories.”

“Thanks, DesUas, but I’m fine.” Her co-worker didn’t say anything, just left the nutrition shake and returned to her own desk.

Aurelie sighed, and begrudgingly took a sip. It was slightly sweet, slightly salty, and had all the texture of blended chalk. She settled down for another morning avoiding her actual work and reading about Hominus G. It was a good idea, she had decided, to learn as much as she could about the universe before making another trip there: she would go to speak to management about scheduling an excursion later that day. Even if there were no suitable slots, she could use her lunch break to hop in and out within the span of a single standard time unit, removing the risk of her ending up trapped. They shouldn’t have any issue.

***

Dr Lucio Enfendore, of settlement 3894 in the 27th quadrant of Hominus G, had never intended to create a Space-Time Machine. For all intents and purposes, he should not have been able to: firstly, the Human understanding of the time stream was still only approximately 70% correct, and there was no infrastructure in place to implement what they did know.

Secondly, science rarely occurs in a vacuum, and by all rights the Space-Time Machine should have been devised over decades, using billions of e-coins investment, with the collaboration of hundreds of different theoretical physicists, engineers, particle physicists, and a chaplain for good measure. Not by a discredited university professor tinkering in his private laboratory.

The chaplain, in particular, would have been useful given the impending collapse of the universe.

Thirdly, Dr Lucio Enfendore was not trying to create a Space-Time Machine, merely a space machine. With recent developments that further solidified Humanity’s understanding of the multiverse, he was hoping to redeem himself by creating the first machine capable of sending particles between universes. He couldn’t have known that this would also involve time travel, because not even the most advanced races had figured it out- not that humans had met any other races anyway.

Why he thought a display of genius would negate the act of embezzling the university, given that it was his ethics, not his intelligence, that were under scrutiny, was a question that had puzzled researchers in Human behaviour ever since. Even Humans themselves couldn’t adequately explain it, using lots of gesticulation and the phrase you know instead of any comprehensive reasoning.

At the time of the collapse of Hominus G, there had been Human colonies away from their home planet of Earth for approximately 2000 years, and manned spaceflights had recently reached the edge of their nearest galaxy. While no precise data was available, the population of Humans at the time of demise was estimated to be approximately 781 billion, comprising 0.076% of the Humans who had ever and would ever live. Counting historical Humans from the dawn of their existence, that number rose to 0.083%.

As there was no advance warning on the collapse of the universe, and the handful of Space-Time Machines had only been in existence a short time, very few people made it out. The technology was only disseminated because a few Space-Time Machines made it to another universe beforehand, and so could be replicated that way. It’s debated as to whether or not a non-human race could have discovered trans-universal Space-Time travel, but it was all theoretical; as Dr Enfendore’s discovery occurred fairly early on in the chronological stream, other races were not given the chance to try.

***

A new alert flashed up on the computer screen, covering Aurelie’s research. As she read it, her heart sank.

“Taking a break?” asked Alvedo as she headed for the door.

“No, it’s the guy we got yesterday. It’s… not very good news on his end.”

The holding cells at the Time Management Bureau were downright luxurious. It was a long running joke that the Bureau had built the holding cells and the new recruit barracks, and then gotten mixed up as to which one was which. Large, fake windows alternated warm sunshine and darkness to match the circadian rhythm of the occupants. The walls were pastel colours, the carpets plush, and the rooms themselves were spacious, with separate sleeping, seating and eating arrangements.

They were so nice because the occupants were often there for a very long time.

“Hey, are you awake?” called Aurelie, rapping at the door. It was stable style, and she waited for a response before unlocking the top half. The Chitinous Farer perked up at the sight of her.

“What’s the news? I’ve been going crazy in here, I’m so bored, there’s no connection portals so I haven’t been able to talk to anyone, the reading material all sucks, I’ve got nowhere to spread my wings…” He trailed off at the seriousness of her expression. “What’s the news?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but there’s no equivalent intersects in your lifetime.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’re not going to be able to get you home.”

There was a long pause and then, almost in slow-motion, his expression crumpled and the tears began. Aurelie hesitated only a moment before opening the lower half of the door and stepping into the room, grabbing both of his antennae and squeezing gently. It still felt far too intimate for her comfort, but it seemed to help, the wails that had been building dying back down again. He wiped the tears away and took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself.

“So, what are my options?” They took a seat on a squishy, bulbous protrusion that Aurelie assumed was the Chitinous Farer equivalent of a sofa.

“There’s a few, and they all have various benefits and downsides. There are seven other Hominus universes, besides the ones that you originated from, and all are similar to yours to varying degrees. We can research which one would be most similar to yours in terms of culture, events and practices. This would be good because to an extent you would be ‘home’, but... many individuals struggle because the universes are similar but not close enough. They find that what they brushed off as small differences initially can increasingly weigh on them and end up feeling alienated in their own home. This is exacerbated by the fact that, since it’s Hominus, the other universes won’t have time travel until several hundred years after your approximate time period. So, you would either have to keep your time/dimension status secret, or arrive several hundred years ahead in a culture that’s similar to, but not really, yours.”

“Isn’t the first one some kind of security risk? Wouldn’t you be worried about me running around telling people about time travel?”

“To be brutally honest, no one would believe you.” She said. His face fell, but he nodded. “And also, given how terrible your understanding of trans-universal Space-Time travel is, even if they did you wouldn’t be able to tell them much.” As she’d hoped, that at least got a smirk and an amused huff from him.

“Ok, point taken; that doesn’t sound great. What else is there?”

“There are Chitinous Farer communities in other universes besides the Hominus ones. We can send you to live with them, or with interplanetary communities that exist in most universes. It won’t be anything similar to your home, but a lot of the peoples there are displaced or have experienced diasporas in one way or another. You’d be able to get a job and work to pay your way, you’d meet new races you’ve never even dreamt of before, you’ll see incredible sights that you’ve never seen before like twin stars and supernovae… it would be completely new and different.”

He didn’t look excited. In fact, looking at him Aurelie realised just how young he seemed. He was probably the Chitinous Farer equivalent of a teenager, and on the younger end at that: 14 or 15 Human years, maybe. ‘Completely new and different’ didn’t confer anything but anxiety.

“Is there a third option?”

“Yes. The third option is you stay here and get a job in the SC. It’s pretty quiet in these parts, not much happens, but there’s a decent number of Chitinous Farers working both in the Time Management Bureau and in other parts of our little universe. Most workplaces provide accommodation, and there are benefits like paid time off and medical insurance.”

“And you work for this… Time Bureau?”

“Of course, yeah, I’m one of the time keepers.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she said, then paused. Did she? She was dedicated to her job, and it consumed most aspects of her life. She certainly didn’t have anything that she enjoyed more than work, though maybe that said more about her than it did about the job. He was still watching her, though, so she pressed on. “Even if you hate it, you don’t have to stay here forever: you can spend a few months or years working and then move out to a new universe when you’re ready.” He seemed appeased.

“Okay. Okay, then I’d like to stay here please.” Aurelie smiled and got to her feet.

“I’ll start making the arrangements. What’s your name?” He let out a series of trills and Aurelie laughed and shook her head. “Humans can’t pronounce that- do you mind if I call you Sam?”

“Sure; what’s your name again?”

“Aurelie.”

“Thanks, Aurelie. Really. I appreciate it.” She felt the familiar, unwelcome blush spreading from the back of her neck, and she ducked her head so that he wouldn’t see it. Considering how rude she and DesUas had been to him, it didn’t feel earned; but he seemed like a sweet kid who couldn’t hold a grudge if it was covered with extra strength adhesive.

Note to self: be nicer to stranded fools in future.

“Anytime, Sam. I’ll arrange to have some better reading material sent down to you, and I’ll see you in a day or two when I have more news. Let’s see if you can figure out Space-Time travel by then.”

***

Leaving the holding cells, Aurelie paused at her office only long enough to clock out for her lunch break before making her way up to her supervisor’s office.

“Ah, Aurelie,” xe looked up. “You’re looking… dishevelled. And I noticed you clocked in early today. Is everything alright?”

“Honestly, everything is more than alright- it’s great! I found my home universe, yesterday, when my displacement number finally showed. It’s Hominus G, if you can believe it- I barely can. I noted my displacement coordinates for that time and location, but I need to arrange taking my leave so that I can journey back and gather the rest of the data. My understanding is that I’d need to take three more trips to do so, is that true?” The words rushed out of her, and the Rzzhyian nodded slowly.

“Yes, if you’ve only done one trip then the equation will need displacement numbers of at least three, but more likely four, more," xe murmured, noticeably non-committal. Aurelie’s grin slipped slightly, but she immediately fixed it back into place.

“Ok, well I have more than four months of leave owed to me, so if need be would I be able to just travel along one of the major Stringways to get new coordinates.” She said. Xe frowned.

“You haven’t thought this through at all, have you?” At Aurelie’s blank stare, the Rhyzzian continued. “Hominus G is an incredibly short-lived universe, and there was only a period of just a few Human years where they had time travel and access to other races' technology. There were only Stringways in a very small sliver of the universe’s time frame because Humans at the time had no idea how to utilise string theory.” Aurelie felt a hollow pit where her stomach was meant to be. She wished she had done more than just sip on the nutrition shake DesUas had gotten her.

“What about the Chitinous Farers? Didn’t they have some?” Her supervisor laughed.

“Oh goodness no, the Chitinous Farers were even more primitive than Humans at that point in time. They had yet to get beyond their own solar system. Not much for exploration, that lot… though, of course, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Okay, well I can just go back in three or four different standard time unit. I only need to be there for a few minutes, to jot down my displacement number, so it’s not like I’ll miss the window.”

Her supervisor looked at her, and slowly shook hir head.

“Hominus G is a very sensitive universe. Messing around with it could be fatal, not just for you but for all other universes. The Human who created the Space-Time Machine originated in that universe, you know?” Aurelie’s throat felt tight. “I can’t allow you to just go gallivanting around it.”

“I wouldn’t be gallivanting. Please. I need to get home, I need to know where I came from.”

“I’m sorry, Aurelie, but you’re far from the only displaced individual here.” Xe sighed. “I can’t let your Human obsession with narrative threaten the stability of the rest of the multiverse.”

***

“Have you seen the new alert?” asked DesUas when Aurelie returned. Aurelie shook her head and started up her screen, trying to banish her conversation with her supervisor from her mind. She didn’t want to tell her coworkers just yet- she wanted to process it, and mull it over, and fume, and then come back with a detailed plan of attack on how to deal with it. On the screen, the little icon flashed blue, indicating an important but not urgent message. Clicking it, Aurelie frowned.

Attention: All Employees and Residents of the Standard-Chronological Universe are required to leave the universe for the duration of the week commencing Sol-65 981. This is to allow for routine maintenance and upgrades to the universe. Lists of suitable universes are provided below, and transport to and from these universes will be arranged by the Bureau of Time Management.

It is vitally important that all Employees and Residents leave the Standard-Chronological Universe during this time interval; failure to do so will result in grievous death.

We thank you for your understanding and cooperation,

The Bureau of Time Management

Aurelie frowned, and reread it.

“This is weird. Sol-65 981, that’s… 5 days from now. That’s not a lot of notice at all. And what does ‘routine maintenance’ entail? Universes don’t need maintenance… there’s nothing routine about this.”

“It’s not like there’s anything routine about this universe, though,” DesUas pointed out. “I wonder how long we’ll be in the host universes- it’s weird that they didn’t list it. Actually, they don’t really say much about them at all; what if I want to visit somewhere on the water?”

“Perhaps it’s on purpose, to prevent everyone favouring a particular universe?” suggested Alvedo. “If one of them will result in three weeks off work in a beautiful location, and the other results in just eight hours in a warehouse, well, I think I know which one everyone except Aurelie would select.” Aurelie rolled her eyes and ignored him, still staring at the announcement.

“Everything about this is weird.” She muttered. “I wonder if it’s anything to do with what’s happened to the mercurial beings. Hey, will all our stuff still be here when we get back?”

“What stuff, Aurelie? You’re still in the barracks.” Alvedo ducked the analogue stylus that sailed his way, grin widening. “If you’re lucky, the maintenance may even provide you with an upgrade. Do you know which universe you want to go to?” Aurelie shrugged.

“With any luck, I’ll be in Hominus G and can just avoid all this entirely.” As she said it, an idea planted in her mind. Routine maintenance, with everyone kicked out of the SC, would be the perfect opportunity to get out without getting in trouble- everyone’s attention would be focused elsewhere, and her superiors would be so busy avoiding grievous death for their employees that they wouldn’t have time to intervene if one went rogue.

If she could figure out her home time and place before then, she could just leave. It wasn’t like she had a huge number of personal items that she needed to bring with her, nor did she much care about the money in her bank account (ample though it was; she had received several raises in her time at the Bureau and the office caffeinated beverage was free).

She realised that Alvedo and DesUas were looking at her expectantly, and blinked out of her reverie.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Will you continue to work at the Bureau after you find displacement zero?” Alvedo was looking both hopeful and sad, as though he already knew the answer. Uncomfortable, Aurelie shrugged.

“I guess I’ll have to see what the situation is at home before I decide on that. I’ll let you know what window I’m going to, and you can come extract me a few days later if need be, how about that? I mean, it might be that my family are awful people and I want to come straight back.”

“You don’t believe that,” said DesUas.

No matter what, never forget that you are loved.

“Who knows, right?” She pushed her hair back from her face, trying to figure out why the anxiety from last night was suddenly back. “Not me, that’s for sure.”

***

As Alvedo reached the end of shift, Aurelie started to notice him fidgeting more than usual. He was always twitchy, due in part to his ridiculous metabolism, but usually she could tune him out. However, an individual could only ignore twenty fingers running a syncopated rhythm across the table for so long. She was considering saying something, but he suddenly pushed himself to his feet, making both her and DesUas jump.

“I don’t trust this,” he announced to the room. At the desk across, DesUas did the Aredbyne equivalent of raising an eyebrow.

“Trust what?” asked the reptile. Alvedo gestured vaguely around the room, then back at his screen.

“This! I don’t trust this maintenance thing.” Aurelie leaned back in her chair and slung her feet up on the desk.

“I mean, we agree that it’s weird. But what of it?”

“Universes don’t need to ‘close for routine maintenance’.” Alvedo was agitated- Aurelie figured he’d probably been turning this over in his mind ever since they got the notice, getting increasingly worked up. “That’s not how that works at all. They’re stable, they’re constants, you can’t hit pause on the system while you patch the code.”

“They expand out of singularities and collapse back into them at the end of their timespans, I don’t exactly see how that’s stable,” DesUas pointed out, but he shook his head.

“At the start and the end, yes. In the middle, no, they’re either growing or shrinking. It’s not a climate control system, it doesn’t have faulty wiring.”

“Maybe this one does,” said Aurelie. “This universe is different, it was made by an individual. Maybe because of that it needs fixing occasionally?”

“Dr Lucio destroyed his universe when he created this one. That doesn’t sound like something you just ‘fix’. They’re hiding something from us, I’m telling you.”

“And what if they are?” asked DesUas. “It’s out of our control. They’ve said anyone who remains will die a ’grievous death’. That’s not something I personally want to risk.”

“I just want to know before I do anything. I’m not going to step on any of those shuttles without knowing what’s going on. I intend to get to the bottom of this.” At that, Aurelie and DesUas burst out laughing. It took a few minutes for it to subside, as every time Aurelie thought she was okay she caught the Aredbyne’s eye and they started up again.

“Alvedo… Alvedo I love you… but…” she trailed off, helpless.

“But you’re the absolute worst at that kind of thing,” DesUas finished for her. “Do you remember when you tried to figure out who was stealing your food from the fridge?”

“Paint!” cackled Aurelie. “All over the ceiling, all over the floor, all over our coworkers- all over you!” She could barely breathe. “I still don’t get your- oh man, I’m dying- your reasoning.”

Rather than be offended, Alvedo gave a self-deprecating smile and shrugged.

“I’ve learnt that this sort of thing is beyond my purview. I’ve assimilated that information. I’ve adapted, and I have a plan.”

“Which is?” pressed Aurelie.

“I’m going to ask Cora to hack the system for me and figure out what’s going on.” At this, they both sobered up, and Alvedo’s smile widened.

“Well… yes, that would do it. Are you sure you want to owe Cora a favour?” asked DesUas.

While Cora was infamous among their little side office as the object of Aurelie’s hopeless infatuation, in the wider company she was best known for her excellent technical skills, her delicious pasta dishes, and her ability to cash in favours at the most inconvenient time and in the most inconvenient method for whoever it was who owed her. At the question, Alvedo’s smile widened even further, giving him a wicked grin.

“She already owes me.”