Interlude – The Free Radikal

Interlude – The Free Radikal

Doctor Radikal (Kaleb to his few friends) felt a hard thump against his back that almost sent him sprawling forwards, but he caught himself on the edge of a desk and glanced over his shoulder at the perpetrator. What he discovered was a familiar man, smiling gently in a way that didn’t suit his enormity. “Don’t worry so much,” the big man said. “We’ve done well enough, haven’t we?”

Kaleb let out a sigh, but he did nod.

The Collider was, for the most part, a success. His AI had crunched the numbers, and the amount of damage the Phobos object was going to sustain from the collider alone should be enough to ensure that Phobos would only ever reach Earth in a state where Earthly forces would be able to defeat it.

Moreover, they had built the collider knowing that they wouldn’t be the only ones to step up to the metaphorical plate in order to try and assist.

He had expected… more, however.

Perhaps this was his own fault. Kaleb was a scientist. He was born in a corporate scientific research compound to two parents who were researchers. He had grown up surrounded by men and women of science, where the rules or reality were second only to appeasing the whims of their corporate overlords.

He’d gotten a good enough education and unmatchable practical learning from a very young age. In all the ways that mattered, he was encouraged to dive deep into the unknown and tear knowledge out of the grasp of reality.

That’s how he liked to romanticise it. In reality most of the research had been done on the behest of various corporations trying to get a lead on their competition. They were entirely unwilling to share anything.

That, and more often than not, their method of uncovering new truths was to deconstruct the work left behind by samurai.

And then one thing led to another, and he’d become a samurai himself.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” his companion said. He grabbed Radikal by the shoulder and gave him a firm grip.

It was going to leave bruises, Kaleb just knew it. “I know, Drachen, I know. I’m merely reminiscing on what brought us here.”

The big man, Drachenschöpfer, was a dear companion of his. A larger than life personality who didn’t know his own strength at the best of times. People dismissed him as an oaf on seeing his stature, but he was quite clever.

It was no wonder Drachen had been chosen to be a samurai. Kaleb oft wondered why he, himself, was chosen.

Shaking the thoughts away, Kaleb glanced across their control room. Seventeen stations with computers and systems fifty years ahead of where humanity’s greatest lay, all facing a massive screen whose definition was unmeasurable.

This was the place from which they would save the Earth. There was no accounting for points and costs and such trivialities.

And yet… the Collider wasn’t an immediate success. Nor had the Keiretsu’s first wave of drones. The great foe was as adaptable and clever as ever.

“Drachen, I’m going to take a short walk,” he said as he rolled his shoulder. “The bridge is yours.”

“The bridge is mine,” Drachen said with a firm nod. He moved aside, then took Kaleb’s place behind the main control podium. “Will you be back in time to see the efforts of our Canadian friends?”

“I’ll be back before then, yes,” he replied with a nod before slipping out of the room. The Lab–the space where they’d set up their command and control room–wasn’t quite as spacious outside of the areas where space was necessary. The corridors were all rather narrow, so he found himself walking briskly through them until he reached a more open space.

There was a bay window here, thick transparent plates jutting out of the wall with a small bench below. A space to sit and observe.

At the moment, Neu Hamburg was below, the mega city slowly slipping by as the Lab flew past.

‘You seem stressed. You are aware that the Collider has been successful so far.’