Tachyons and Me - Just don't do it!

Lunar Awards Substack Submission Story for Scifi Prompt

“If you look at sector twelve quadrant nine, class, notice how the sunspot is growing while it collapses. There. See that coronal mass ejection?” The teacher asked.

NASA/JPL-Caltech Full Image Details

Brendan pulled his protection glasses from his eyes as he pulled away from the class telescope pointing outward below. He adjusted his notes on his digital pad beside him, then drew the shape that he saw in the scope. The other students did the same. Someone in the class sneezed. The smell of antiseptics permeated his spacesuit. It was uncomfortable to sit in during class, but with the evacuation necessary. Brendan looked at his teacher: humanoid form, bipedal, no space suit. None was necessary for the teacher as they were built of stronger stuff, according to substitute Teacher Bob.

“Being ‘One without many legs, but can speak eloquent,’ when are we to evacuate?” Brendan asked.

“Brendan, I appreciate you use my approximate name in English with the class, but my preferred pronoun is ‘Bob’ and to keep things efficient for class, as I have said previously,” the teacher responded while adjusting the scope of another student fixing the focusing array.

“Hm, that’s odd.” They reached behind themselves and pulled and unfolded a second set of manipulator arms that were held firmly to their back. One adjusted the scope a different way, while another pulled out an ancient chronometer out of its side jacket pocket, adjusting its teacher uniform.

The classroom shuttered. The space station wasn’t supposed to feel space quakes from gravity waves until after the star collapsed, Brendan knew from the lesson materials. He looked at his personal AI, checked the time, and compared it to the chronometer he saw in the corner of his eye. It was out by six and a half hours.

“Oh, wait, I know this one, eight o’clock, eight thirty in Newfoundland!” he said to his best friend who sat beside him, Kathy. He opened his book, not noticing the page was blank.

“Were you watching old TV broadcasts again?” She asked.

“They were showing re-runs of Beachcombers! It was so good,” he said, glaring at his workbook. Brendan was certain that he hadn’t turned the page, but it was blank. He flipped a few pages, but it looked pristine, like the day he purchased the workbook. He held his hand to call for the teacher. Brendan noticed the teacher fiddling with their personal AI, using their two back limbs in a hurry. Bob still smiled, though.

Teacher Bob saw Brendan’s hand and came over. Brendan tried to explain the strange workbook, how it was empty and new. Even the notes that he wrote last week were gone, too. Kathy also confirmed the oddity of the substitute teacher.

“Strange occurrences indeed,” Teacher Bob said. “This very workbook, you say?” He asked, pointing. The book shimmered for a moment. Brendan blinked. It appeared old and battered for years. He felt the desk shake. The teacher opened the book, checking each page until today’s date, and saw a whole three pages of notes in the workbook.

“It looks like you already completed all the observations and the bonus ones I was going to ask you for at the end of class.”

Teacher Bob turned the workbook back to Brendan. There, in Brendan’s handwriting and drawings, was the day’s assignment. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. The following six more months of assignments were completed and graded! Brendan showed the book to Kathy. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at the notes. She tapped her finger, gazing at the two workbooks, and again at Brendan.

Teacher Bob walked to the back and pulled out a device from their desk. It beeped loudly. Brendan and Kathy closed their books and packed them away as the station quaked again.

“Class, according to my detector, which was theoretical until now, is detecting tachyon particles.”

“How do you have a detector for a theoretical particle?” Kathy asked.

“Excellent question. As you know, tachyons travel faster than light. That means it would appear that those particles travel back in time. I have a note from my future self on how to use a tachyon emitter. Apparently the IT support in the future is better than the private corporations.”

A few students had their hands high. Teacher Bob pointed to Frank in the front row. Frank speculated on how the device was from the future.

“We are working with theoretical since we have never experienced a star collapsing this close to a science station like this one. A collapsing star is a normal occurrence that happens daily. But the reason our station was orbiting this star was its two tachyon particle emissions a year for the past fifteen years.”

A few students stood to look outside the main view-screen, showing the star in various stages of coming undone. Teacher Bob clicked a few commands on his personal AI to send maps and layouts of the station, evacuation plans, and emergency response protocols to the class. Everyone stashed their workbooks back into their bags, some like Frank noticing that their books were already filled, others like Kathy had pristine workbooks. Brendan’s book had half the lesson completed again, usual for him.

The lights changed to flashing red from the light glow surrounding the gardens carefully placed around the station. The muted carpets of a dark grey colour on the main resting areas around the side looked black, and harder metal and tile along the main walkways, easier to clean for higher traffic, reflected the hard red light. Brendan tried to see outside through the view-screens, but there were only reflections of the students packing their books, the feed cut off. Only two of the service panels on the walls showed evacuation protocols and directions, the others pulsed different images.

“What is going on?” he asked.

But other protocols starting showing on the screens. The doors to the classroom slammed shut and gas valves opened to the room.

EMERGENCY PROTOCOL FOR BIOLOGICAL PATHOGENS

The screens flashed this message. A few students coughed in the cloud, trying to cover their faces with their arms. But their teacher Bob was not well. He changed form and his clothes smoked as if the gas was melting him.

“Class, it looks like I can’t help you. The computer system failed biological profiling and treating me as a pathogen in the room, which I am not.”

Teacher Bob coughed while trying to hold his form. He collapsed and melted into a blob, suddenly floating in the room. Frank noticed loose items in the room were floating as the kids bumped them by accident.

“Looks like the rotating pylons failed.”

Brendan looked at Demitri panning the room. Demitri was told frequently in an emergency, if you are uncertain, follow someone trained.

“My Dad works in engineering, everyone don’t move or you will start floating too. You need to activate your mag strips on your shoes. Most of you are not fitted for mag boots, but your shoes have some emergency capabilities. They are pretty weak and won’t last long.”

One kid, Bobby, was already floating. He initially thought it was fun, but no longer. He was stuck floating with no handhold. Most of them were still at their desks, activating their shoes. Brendan, near the door, had not moved when it happened, so he grabbed the door handle and activated his shoes. But he moved too quickly and rolled, then righted himself, holding the door handle. He bent over and magnetized his shoes.

“Help me!” Bobby thrashed about, face turning red and eyes wide open. With each move, he gyrated in place.

“Okay Bobby,” said Demitri, “you are a jerk to us most of the time, but Dad says in emergencies, it doesn’t matter who you are with, help them out. Do you have your textbook in your bag?”

“Of course, midget, I’ve got my book. I put it in my bag, so I wouldn’t have to stay here any longer,” Bobby said, trying to reach it on his back.

With each turn, Bobby rotated in the air until he was a slow-moving gyroscope.

“Bobby, throw your book to push yourself.” Brendan looked at Demitri, who was carefully walking toward a spot below Bobby, stuck without gravity. Looking, Brendan saw Bobby get his textbook out, and waited on timing from Demitri, no longer panicking. The textbook in hand was a heavy paper book that they all carried. Everyone had a digital pad, but the students were required to use the analogue version for unknown reasons. They all thought it was related to their alien teacher’s hobbies. Brendan looked at his own backpack, but decided against using it as propulsion.

Brendan finally got his shoes flat to the floor and magnetized. He still struggled, trying to stand with his feet firmly attached to the floor. He grabbed the long door handle and righted himself. Once vertical, Brendan found it was simple to walk around, careful to keep one foot connected to the floor. He pulled on the door handle. Nothing moved. Right, the Emergency Bio lock. He turned around and his stomach felt odd, like he was falling on a roller-coaster. The station shook again. Brendan looked at Demitri, grabbing Bobby from the floor. They hugged, then merged into another blob like Teacher Bob.

“What’s going on?” Brendan yelled, eyes bulging. He swayed as the station shook. His body was trying to fall over, but couldn’t as his feet were secure. The sirens got louder in the hall until a wall blew out. All the unsecured kids vanished through the hole before a bulkhead shuttered closed.

Kathy, the blob of Demitri and Bobby, Teacher Bob, and myself out of a class of twenty.

Brendan righted himself and walked to Kathy. Tears were forming in her ducts, but she glared, mouth closed, and arms tense.

“What now?” Kathy asked, nostrils flaring as she tried to breathe in the thinner air. “I don’t wanna die here.”

“I have no idea,” Brendan said. “That blob is one half of the one guy who could help us.” He felt tired, an ache in his muscles and uncontrollable throbbing along his left arm and his shin, likely from the roll on the floor he took while still attached to the floor.

Sirens went silent, as if the power was pulled from them, slowly dropping in octaves and notes until it was gone. The lights started flickered and died too, leaving them in a dull grey light everywhere. The floor shuddered as the station shifted again. This time the angle was too much and Brendan fell sideways awkwardly, his one foot finally coming free as the magnetic lock failed as the battery burned out. He hit his head on the floor. Kathy was also down. She was trying to say something to him, but his ears could only register a muddy sound like she was speaking an alien language underwater, as he passed out.

Brendan woke, his head pounding, and wet like his face was in a puddle. He put his hand into it and came back sticky with blood. Brendan looked, seeing two sets of blurs. He sat partially, but the room spun around him; realizing his mistake, he carefully dragged himself propped against a metal chair that was bolted to the floor. He held his head and noticed more blood coming off, turned to his backpack, still strapped, and dabbed his head with a microfiber towel he kept for emergencies. Slowly, his doubled vision cleared, and the headache mellowed to a low growl.

“Kathy, still with me?” Brendan asked. Not waiting for a response, he plowed forward. “That last bump really hurt my head,” he said, groaning. He held the towel out to check it. It didn’t seem like there was more blood, did it? He looked at Kathy. She was on the ground breathing, albeit shallow.

Suddenly there was a fast hissing sound, like air escaping the room. The class doors were open but slowly closing. Brendan crawled along the floor to the doors and pulled himself through. Outside, things were normal. There were staff casually directing people along the hallways towards the waiting departure shuttles. The classroom was dark like a thick cloud of molasses with warning sealed tape along the doors. He walked to the nearest officer in uniform and asked about the classroom.

“That room was condemned and evacuated weeks ago, because of destabilization at the quantum level. Very tragic. Most of the students in there died. You should follow the guides and evacuate to your waiting shuttle.”

“But I came out of that room?” Brendan said.

“Of course you did. Quantum destabilization because of tachyon emissions can cause one to travel back and forward in time. You are lucky to make it out alive. Oh, and sorry about your classmates.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” Brendan asked.

“Oh, a few did escape: Kathy Flatts is a grandmother thrice over, Teacher Bob, ‘One without many legs, but can speak eloquent’ returned to their home planet a few weeks ago, and Demitri is supposed to be born next week. All very odd stuff, that is. Don’t mess with tachyons. You could become your own grandpa, grandma, and grandson.”