> x desk
An elegant, large, and heavy oak desk, stained a dark mahogany, dominates the office. A computer fills the front left corner of the desk, and a phone sits on the right. A Palm and manilla folder are on the desk.

> get folder
You take manilla folder from the desk.

> open folder
You open manilla folder.

> read folder
Time magazine has asked you to write an article in layman's terms explaining the science behind the work you're doing, work that when successful will change the world. If you make the deadline, the article should run next week, probably in the back of the issue somewhere. You figure that within two years, after receiving the Nobel Prize for Physics, of course, you'll be on the cover as Time Person of the Year, under the heading: "The Man Who Gave Us the Stars." You skim the draft once again:

Magnets, Molecules, and Flying Monkeys

By Professor Gabriel G. Markson

Here at the University of Illinois' Superconducting Diamagnetic Field Study Laboratory (we just call it the MagLab to make it easier on ourselves), our pet monkey Herb is more famous than any of us. His picture has been seen in practically every newspaper, magazine, and television on the planet. All the interest in our Rhesus monkey isn't because he's so cute, but because for almost six months now, he has been flying.

What's more, and more importantly, in all that time, he hasn't moved. Not scratched an itch, not blinked, not twitched, not anything. His heart hasn't beat, the blood hasn't flowed, the neurons in his brain haven't fired. The very cells in his body have ceased to function, no cellular division, no mitosis, nothing. But it goes even deeper still. The very molecules in his body, even the atoms, are all being held perfectly still.

Each atom in the universe contains electrons that circle around a nucleus. If an atom (or the billions of atoms making up a piece of metal, a cup of water, a monkey, or a live person) is immersed in a magnetic field, the electrons create their own magnetic field to oppose this external influence. As a result, the atoms behave as little magnets.

As anyone who has ever played with magnets has noticed, magnets push each other away if you try to push the two north or two south poles together. Similarly, the north pole of the external field will try to push away the "north poles" of magnetized atoms.

Our MagLab magnet creates a very large magnetic field about a million times stronger than the Earth's magnetic field. In this field, all the atoms inside Herb or anything else we put in the field act as very small magnets. Essentially, Herb is now built up of these tiny magnets, all of which are repelled by MabLab's large magnet. The force, which is directed upwards, is strong enough to compensate the force of gravity that also acts on all of Herb's atoms. So, Herb floats. This phenomenon was first developed at the Nijmegen High Field Magnet Laboratory in The Netherlands, where I was lucky enough to study for my master's degree. While continuing my studies and working on my Ph.D. at the University of Illinois, I noticed that at particular field strengths, any live animal I happened to be floating stopped moving. The first time it happened, I was afraid we had killed our pet. A few experiments later, though, and we realized the magnetic fields were actually holding the atoms in a nonmoving, steady state and that we were on the verge of developing true suspended animation. It doesn't require freezing and thawing: just turn off the field and Herb "wakes up," apparently completely unharmed. The six month test currently underway is the last step before testing the suspended animation magnetic field on a human being.

Just think of the possibilities. The two most obvious are space travel and incurable medical conditions. For years, people have been using cryogenics to freeze themselves in the hopes that one day scientists would have the know-how to unfreeze them and fix whatever ailed them. Now we'll be able to do that without the rather difficult problem of unfreezing them. But space, that's where this technology will make its mark. Getting to another planet is now a real possibility, even if it takes 100 years for the ship to get there, or 1000 years, or 10,000 years.

-- end --

And by then, everyone will have forgotten that stupid monkey, and Gabriel Markson will be the name the entire world remembers. Justin Smith, they will have never heard of. And maybe he'll be a distant memory for you one day, too.

The phone rings.

> answer phone
You put the receiver to your ear and answer with your usual warmth: "Markson here."

"Gabe, this is Mike. It's Herb's big day, what are you doing still in your office? Three years of preparation for this day, and you're late?"

"Need I remind you who works for who?" you growl at your subordinate. "I'll be there shortly. The little sucker hasn't so much as farted in six months; a few more minutes isn't going to kill him."

You hang up the phone. Maybe Mike is right, though. It probably is about time to get down to the lab and see how Herb is doing.

> open door
You open lab office door.

> n
(Getting off the chair first)
You move north.

Lab hallway
The long hallway runs east-west. To the west are the doors into the lab proper, and to the east are the MagLab's one classroom and the exit out of the building. The door to your office is to the south.

> w
As you walk down the hallway towards the MagLab, you thoughts wander away from Herb, to Claudia....

(press any key)

Pleasure.
Six weeks later....

You like that it's just dark enough to cast shadows around the room. You can barely make out the shape of Claudia's leg, which makes it that much more tantalizing as she raises one knee a bit off of the sheet. You reach over and gently stroke the thigh of her other leg, enjoying the calm after the energy, motion, and release of the last hour. You've learned that much from Claudia, at least, to savor these peaceful moments. It would be even better if you could relax further and drift off to sleep, but Claudia always likes to talk for awhile, her own way of luxuriating in the afterglow. She rolls up onto one elbow and looks at you, something clearly on her mind.

> talk to claudia
Running your hand further up her leg and over her stomach, you ask her what's the matter.

"Oh, it's not that anything is the matter. I'm just worried about tomorrow's test. I still wish we knew what was causing the disorientation we've all experienced."

She's talking about the side effect of the diamagnetic field on humans. Herb and every other animal you've tested the field on has seemed unaffected as any test can determine.

The end of Herb's six month stint of suspended animation a month-and-a-half ago had been a huge success. Bowing to the huge pressure from the press and the University administration to prove the field worked on people, you had stepped onto the larger magnet two days later, and Claudia had turned on the field.

For the next three minutes, you had floated a foot above the magnet, rigid and motionless all the way down to your very molecules. When Claudia turned off the field, you were fine, other than experiencing momentary dizziness. Longer times in the field produce a more noticeable dizzy spell and disorientation. So far, you haven't been able to determine what's causing it, but you, Claudia, Mike, and a few other assistants have been testing the field on yourselves in increasingly longer durations.

You decide to tell Claudia:
1) Not to worry so much;
2) You're worried, too;
3) It's either push on or give up; or
4) Not to say anything at all.

> 1
"You worry too much sometimes, I think," you tell her. "I'm still convinced it's simple disorientation from people or objects in the lab having moved while you're under. To you, it looks like they've moved instantaneously. Magical teleportation -- your brain just has a hard time grasping it."

"Well, it's as good of an explanation as any," Claudia admits. "Of course, it's also a wild-ass guess. I'd rather have something a little more scientific to go on before you go under for such a long time."

The longest anyone has been under so far has been five hours, which was you, of course. The disorientation as you came out of the field was nauseating, but bearable. You're not too concerned.

Claudia seems like she has more to say, unsurprisingly.

> talk to claudia
"I know this may seem strange this far into things, but do you ever wonder if we're pushing things too far?" she asks. You give her your patented "what on earth are you talking about?" look.

"I mean," she says, "I guess what's really making me nervous is I can't help thinking we're crossing the boundaries of the universe's natural laws. We're creating an artificial environment where atoms hold still -- that doesn't happen anywhere else in all existence. We are forcing something to happen that wasn't meant to be."

Suddenly she rolls over and looks at you, an earnest pleading in her eyes. She puts her hand on your chest. "Gabriel," she asks. "Do you even believe in God?"

In all the nights you've spent in this apartment, the subject of religion has never come up. You ponder telling her:
1. Of course you believe in God;
2. You want to believe, but you have your doubts;
3. No, God clearly doesn't exist; or
4. Say nothing at all.

> 1
"Of course I believe in God," you tell her. "How could I not? I look around me and I see His works everywhere, and I'm constantly amazed by them."

You see immediately that this is indeed what she wanted to hear. You decide not to add that you sincerely hope the traditional view of God isn't accurate. You sure as hell don't want to be judged for some of your actions after you die. Claudia smiles, which proves the omission wise.

"I can't tell you how glad I am you say that, Gabriel," She says. "Because I believe, too, very much. I became a scientist to study and learn first hand how God's great creations work, but I'm concerned now because we're taking the operating system and tweaking it just a bit. We don't really know what the ramifications might be, what might happen. And when I lie here at night thinking about it, it scares me sometimes, how we're breaking the rules, like we're unraveling God himself."

You had no idea Claudia had such strong religious feelings. It's pretty obvious she wants to keep talking about this.

> talk to claudia
"Unraveling God?" you chuckle. "That sounds awfully ominous."

"I'm serious, Gabe. Despite having become a scientist, I can't help but wonder if the medieval and renaissance theologians didn't have the right idea. Before then, priests and monks were expected to be well educated and studied the physical sciences.

"Then guys like Galileo came along with obscene notions, like the earth revolving around the sun. Suddenly it started to look like science might disprove accepted religious fact, and science and God parted ways.

"I study the world, though, and I wonder if those afraid of science were afraid for a good reason, even if they didn't know it. Every day researchers around the world push the boundaries of what's physically possible. Maybe it's part of our free will to take science too far. What if the consequence of breaking the rules God established for running the universe is that the rules stay broken? What if we're the one's to make that break?"

You consider telling Claudia:
1. That's an interesting idea;
2. Maybe she should become a nun;
3. That makes no sense at all; or
4. Say nothing at all.

> 1
"Well, that's an interesting thought," you tell her. "You're saying that altering physical laws might not be temporary? So, say someone figures out a way to create anti-gravity, suddenly there'd be no gravity?"

She grins at the obvious absurdity of the idea.

"I know it's silly," she admits. "But that's the general idea, yes."

"Well, we're safe, then," you say, starting to enjoy the late-night pseudo debate. "We're not really breaking any of the laws of physics, we're just applying them in creative and unique ways."

She laughs, her odd introspective mood broken.

"Seriously, though," she says, "I still can't shake the feeling something isn't right. No, I don't think magnetism will suddenly cease working, but I do worry that we're failing to anticipate something out of ignorance of the field's effects. We should understand what's causing the disorientation."

"All right, all right," you say. "I give up. I hereby authorize ten more days of testing, but then I'm going under for at least four days, whether we know the answer or not."

Claudia smiles with relief. Not that there was any doubt, but you're glad she will continue to support you and the project. After all, that's why you decided to get Claudia to fall in love with you in the first place.

(press any key)

Triumph.

Ten days later....

You are in the MagLab.

> l
MagLab
The premier diamagnetic field research lab in the world is surprisingly small. The room is maybe 75 feet long and only about 25 feet wide. An assortment of shelves, tools, and computer and electrical equipment line the walls all the way around the lab, except for one corner of the room where a cage for Herb sits when he's here and not being suspended in the superconducting diamagnetic field. The two field generators, one larger than the other, take up the center of the room. Cables run from each across the floor to a row of computers sitting on a table. The hallway out of the MagLab is to the east. Claudia is here. Mike's loud voice makes it hard not to notice he's in the room.

> climb on machine
You climb the rungs up the side of the large field generator and stand on the platform. Even though you've done this several times before, you can feel a little adrenaline quickening your blood. This will be the first test of more than a few hours; at 110 hours, you'll be under for just over four and a half days. You glance over at Claudia and Mike, standing in front of the computers and looking at you expectantly. All that remains is to give one of them the word and they'll turn on the machine. In four days, they'll wake you up and your place in history will be secured.

> talk to claudia
You wish briefly that the extra ten days of testing had paid off. The disorientation you and the others experience when the field is shut off is still inexplicable. You conclude for the thousandth time that it must simply be caused by people or equipment in the room having moved at least a little bit while you're suspended in the field. Your doubt fades; this is no time to be anything other than confident. You're about to finalize what you know will be the greatest technological advance of the 21st century. You're about to give man the ability to reach the stars. Elation fills your chest and you tremble in eager anticipation. Four days for them, and an instant for you, and then everything you've worked for, every sacrifice you've made, every sacrifice you've made others make, every decision made in the name of ambition, will all be vindicated.

"Do it, Claudia. Turn on the machine."

She looks at you calmly, her professional demeanor impeccable. She knows the video cameras are taping every moment.

"Ok, Gabe," she says. "Here we go. See you in just a second!" With that, she reaches out and taps a key on the computer.

(press any key)

Judgement.

Two years before...

You are in a classroom.

Wearily, you open your eyes wider. Giving tests has to be one of the most boring aspects of teaching. The students struggle with the exam while you sit at your desk, struggling to stay awake. You'd been almost dreaming, oddly imaging yourself wandering, walking listlessly across an endless plain of short brown grass toward a towering jagged cliff. Then Gary Hendricks, an up-until-now promising student, snickered, jarring you alert. The snot must have noticed you starting to drift off. That mistake just might be reflected in his grade, you decide.

A noise at the open classroom door catches your attention, and you see Justin Smith practically jumping up and down in the hall, obviously very eager to tell you something.

As class and the exam ends, the students file out, leaving their tests on your desk as they go. Justin can stand it no longer and pushes his way through them to your desk.

"Professor Markson, I've been working on something for days, it's ready, you've got to come down to the lab and see this, you're not going to believe it!" He's so excited, he's practically exuding excess energy. Before he can run off, though, you stop him by handing him the stack of exams.

"I'll be there in minute, Justin. In the meantime, don't forget you need to grade these for me by tomorrow morning."

He just grins and runs off.

> s
You move south.
End of hallway
The doors out of the laboratory building are to the east, and the lab's single classroom is to the north. Your office and the main MagLab are to the west.

> w
You move west.
Lab hallway
The long hallway runs east-west. To the west are the doors into the lab proper, and to the east are the MagLab's one classroom and the exit out of the building. The door to your office is to the south.

> w
You move west.
MagLab
U of I's underfunded diamagnetic field research lab is unsurprisingly small. The room is maybe 75 feet long and only about 25 feet wide. An assortment of shelves, tools, and computer and electrical equipment line the walls all the way around the lab, except for one corner of the room where a cage for Herb, Justin's pet Rhesus monkey, sits when he's here and not floating in the superconducting diamagnetic field. A small field generator takes up the center of the room. Cables run from it across the floor to a computer sitting on a table. The hallway out of the MagLab is to the east. Justin is here.

> talk to justin
"All right, Justin, what's all the excitement about?" You smile indulgently, returning Justin's goofy grin. Justin is one of those people who is just too happy and quick to smile to be able to work up a good dislike of him, even if you wanted to. His enthusiasm for science in general and magnetics in particular is contagious. You have to admit, since beginning his study with you last year, he's somewhat singlehandedly revitalized your interest in your chosen research field.

What had at first seemed so promising when you were earning your Ph.D. had rather fizzled into an interesting but obscure branch of physics without a whole lot of practical application. Then Justin arrived in your department, enamored with the idea of floating living objects simply because it was "so damn cool," and he persuaded you to let him experiment with levitating every animal he's been able to sneak into the lab, starting with frogs and chipmunks and working his way up to puppies.

You finally drew the line when he tried to bring in a live porcupine he'd caught, and arranged for a genuine research animal for him. Of course, Justin adopted the monkey the day he arrived, named him Herb, and has since been teaching the thing to do all sorts of acrobatics while floating in the diamagnetic field, usually while sticking a finger up its nose or some other unfortunate place. You're expecting that Justin has called you in because Herb has finally mastered the quadruple twisting back flip.

> talk to justin
"Look, Professor Markson, check out Herb! Look at that! Have you ever seen anything like it?"

As you figured, Herb has a new trick.

"So, Justin, you've taught the little ankle biter to hold still. I must admit that's an improvement to letting him run all over the damn lab."

"No, professor, take a better look. Seriously, look at him."

You do. As moments go by and Herb doesn't move, you take a closer look. Herb is more than holding still. He isn't blinking, his eyes aren't moving, he isn't even breathing. More than a little surprised, you exclaim:
1. What in the hell have you done to him, Justin?
2. Christ, Justin, you've killed the little geek!
3. I am not having the University buy you another monkey.
4. Well, I guess it's back to floating squirrels.

> 1
Herb is clearly dead, and you know Justin is going to be upset, but you can't help yourself.

"What in the hell have you done to him, Justin? Did you do something that killed him, or do you think he's had a heart attack?"

Justin just laughs.

"No, professor. Check this out." Justin taps on the keyboard of the control computer. Suddenly Herb becomes very animated and begins chittering like crazy and spinning over and over in a series of midair somersaults. You couldn't have been more stunned if your father's corpse had just walked through the MagLab doors and struck up a conversation.

"I say again, what in the hell..." you finally manage.

"Isn't it cool?" Justin asks. "I noticed a couple of days ago that Herb was totally motionless for a couple of seconds. I've been adjusting the specific field strength, intensity, and amplitude, until I could hold him steady indefinitely. At first I thought it was killing him, too. But when I alter the field in the slightest, he wakes up and acts like everything is fine. It's like some sort of suspended animation."

Yeah, exactly like, you think.

> talk to justin
"Well, Professor Markson, what do you think?" Justin asks. He taps on the keyboard, adjusting the field, and Herb suddenly freezes in mid-somersault.

You've not felt your brain whirling around this fast since you were trying to complete your thesis with two days left to your deadline and about a week's worth of work to go. If this is what you suspect it is, it's going to make you more famous than you had ever dreamed might be possible. You and Justin. You glance over at him, and realize that for all your fondness of him, the big geek is not exactly the type of person you'd want sharing an awards podium with you.

"Justin, we need to take this slow." His smile becomes a little tenuous. "Don't get me wrong, but I think we should keep this to ourselves until we've had time to study it in detail, until we know exactly what's happening here. The last thing we want is newspapers writing that we've discovered suspended animation and then two days later Herb really does die from whatever we're doing to him. That would be the end of our careers."

Justin holds up his hands and says, "Way ahead of you, professor. I haven't told a soul, not even Claudia." Claudia is the other uptight prude of a graduate assistant working in the lab. You could shove a lump of coal up her butt and a week later she'd crap a diamond.

"Besides," Justin continues. "I'm pretty sure I've got the theory mostly worked out. I've written it all down, although it's obviously a limited-scope draft."

He hands you a paper, about 30 pages long.

"Look, professor, I've got to go meet my girlfriend for supper. Why don't I swing by your house in a couple of hours? That will give you time to read my paper over and we can figure out what to do next, okay?"

Numbly, you nod your head. Justin smiles again, takes Herb out of the field, and walks out of the lab, Herb sitting on his shoulder and holding onto his hair.

> e
You move east.
Lab hallway
The long hallway runs east-west. To the west are the doors into the lab proper, and to the east are the MagLab's one classroom and the exit out of the building. The door to your office is to the south.

> e
You move east.
End of hallway
The doors out of the laboratory building are to the east, and the lab's single classroom is to the north. Your office and the main MagLab are to the west.

Justin's whirlwind demonstration not only has left you flabbergasted, but you realize that you feel a twinge of jealousy at his discovery. You really wish it had been you, and you alone, who had noticed this unexpected and potentially monumental side effect of the diamagnetic field. Still, if his discovery holds up to the extensive testing you're already formulating in your head, you and he together will be extremely famous. Right this moment, though, there's not much else to be done other than drive your car home, look over his paper, and wait for Justin. It's not unusual for you to have your grad students over for a brainstorming session, or just to have a few drinks, but this time you wish you were meeting back at the lab, even if it will be late at night. One thing is for sure, though: you'll be cancelling all of your classes for the rest of the week, and you and Justin will be locking yourselves in the MagLab starting tomorrow morning.

> e
You move east.
Outside the MagLab
You've stepped outside of the Superconducting Diamagnetic Field Study Laboratory, and can see much of the campus of the University of Illinois from here. The lot where you always park is to the south.

> s
You move south.
Parking lot
One of U of I's many parking lots, this one is relatively small and is reserved for the university faculty, which you qualify as, even if most of the other engineering professors have never heard of you. The MagLab is to the north. Your Ford Mustang is sitting here, looking damn good, as always.

> get in car
You climb inside the car and sit down on the fine leather of the driver's seat. Once again you are ready to drive the car.

> drive car
You pull out of the parking lot, and wind your way through town. You pass college bar after college bar, endless pizza joints and cheap pasta places, and the occasional eatery worth entering. Students litter the streets. Most of them seem to be dressed in the current 90s retro fashion you can't stand -- baggy trousers with knee high crotches, underwear abounding. You pass through the center of town and move onto the suburbs. Eventually, you turn down your street, the blissfully quiet Oak Point Drive, and pull into your driveway.

> get out of car
You climb out of the car.
Driveway
You are in the short concrete driveway in front of your house. It's one in a row of two-story brick houses. You think it looks exactly the way a professor's home should look: a little old, a little run down, a little quaint. A sidewalk leads north from the driveway to the four concrete steps up to the front porch. Your Ford Mustang is sitting here, looking damn good, as always.

You are thinking about the potential medical applications of magnetically "freezing" atoms in place, when, with an impact that literally makes you gasp, the thought occurs to you that with true suspended animation, space travel at sub-lightspeed is perfectly feasible. It wouldn't matter, to the passengers at least, how long it took the ship to reach its destination. With a shudder of awesome near disbelief, you realize that you could be the man who gives the stars to the human race. Or rather, you and Justin.

> n
You move north.
Front porch
You are standing on the front porch of your home. On nice nights, you like to bring a chair out here and relax with a little scotch and soda. The door into your house, which you keep locked religiously, is to the north.

> unlock door
You unlock the front door with your house keys (on the ring with your car keys).

> open door
You open front door.

> n
You move north.
Hallway
The foyer of your house is really just a hallway. The lighting is dim enough to disguise the age of the hardwood floors and hide some of the faded spots on the walls. A rather striking stairway to the right leads upstairs, to the west is the living room, the kitchen is down the hallway to the north, and the door out of the house is to the south.

Justin better not take too long getting here, you think.

The more you think about it, the more depressed you become. You've been studying high-intensity superconducting diamagnetic fields for nearly ten years, and Justin in less than 12 months discovers an application for it beyond all imagination. It just isn't right, or fair, even if he has no choice but to share the glory with his professor. Not that you're overly excited about sharing the coming limelight.

> wait
Time passes...

In fact, you find yourself thinking, you probably would have eventually made this discovery yourself. After all, you were still trying to run at least one new experiment a month yourself. Sure, it might have been another year or two, but it was really only a matter of time. Damn, damn, damn.

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

The doorbell rings.

> open door
You open the front door; Justin's goofy grin is staring you in the face when you do. His eyes seem a tad less bright than normal, and you catch a whiff of Jack Daniels as he says,"Hey, professor!" and steps into the hallway, swinging your front door shut behind him.

"Well, did you read my paper?" he asks.

> talk to justin
"Of course I've read it, " you respond. "And I'm very excited about the possibilities..."

Justin is trying with difficulty to remove his denim jacket, but the task seems to be beyond him.

"How much have you had to drink, anyway?" you ask.

"Oh, just a few celebratory drinks with my girlfriend," he replies, but now you detect a slight slur in his voice. "Don't worry about it, prof, I'm sober enough. What do you think, are we going to be rich and famous?"

"Rich? I don't know, maybe. Famous? Yes, Justin, I really think we are going to be exceedingly famous. But let's not get ahead of ourselves; first we've got a lot of testing to do, starting tomorrow..."

"Hey, professor, sorry, but I really got to take a leak," Justin interrupts, and bounds up the stairs. As he nears the top, he spins around.

"By the way, I called Claudia and told her to meet us here. She ought to be here soon."

Just great you think, but then all thoughts of your annoying female grad student evaporate from your mind as Justin stumbles when he turns to continue up the steps. You see his eyes widen in surprise as he grabs for the railing and misses, as one foot lunges forward for a support that isn't there, as his weight shifts too far forward, as he falls.

God, does he fall. The first thing to hit the steps is his face, with a crunch that brings the taste of bile into the back of your throat. His head snaps back with the impact, but his body keeps pitching forward, and you hear his neck crack like you'd snapped a thick stick over your knee as he rolls down the steps, landing on his back at your feet.

He looks up at you, gasping for breath, mouth moving like he's trying to say something.

> n
You move north.
As you run down the hallway toward the kitchen, Justin's fall replays itself in your mind. It happened so fast, was so unexpected, so violent and horrible, and you can't grasp that it really did happen, that he really is laying on your floor, bleeding to death from internal injuries. You were just resenting him, how petty that seems now, you never wanted anything like this, and then, unbidden, the thought occurs... it was almost like this was fated to happen.

Kitchen
A glance at this well-organized kitchen should tell anyone that not only do you like to cook, but you are probably very good at it. The kitchen has been recently remodelled, and you designed ample counter space for so small of a room. There's a stainless-steel-sided refrigerator, a modern stove and oven that looks like it was made in 1950, a sink and faucet, and a microwave hidden behind a cabinet door. A rack of pots and pans hangs over the island in the middle of the kitchen. A small table with four chairs sits in the corner of the room, and a phone is attached to the wall next to the fridge. The hallway is to the south.

> call ambulance
You shakily grab the phone, and dial 911....

You can't change the past, Gabriel, and that is not what happened, is it? No, what happened was this:

You hesitate, thoughts of fated accidents clouding your mind, thoughts of a discovery that should have been yours pressing down on you, thoughts of fame and a legacy unshared pushing your hand back down, and then you hang up the phone without dialing. Dazed, unsure of yourself, you stand in the kitchen not moving for several minutes. Then, slowly, you open a cabinet, take out a short glass, put ice from the freezer in it, and with trembling hands pour yourself a double shot of scotch. Then you walk into the living room, past Justin, trying not to look at him, trying not to hear the gurgle of his breathing, and sit down in your leather chair. And sip your scotch. And read Justin's paper one more time.

You are sitting in your living room.

Living room
The cozy living room now seems unreal, with Justin lying just feet away in the hallway. A bookshelf covers the north wall, a fireplace sits in the middle of the west wall, and the south wall has a picture window looking out on your front yard. You keep the room dark and moody, with lamps behind the brown leather chair and large couch for ease of reading. A small table rests beside the chair. The hallway is to the east. The doorbell rings.

> e
(Getting off leather chair first)
You move east.
Hallway
The foyer of your house is really just a hallway. The lighting is dim enough to disguise the age of the hardwood floors and hide some of the faded spots on the walls. A rather striking stairway to the right leads upstairs, to the west is the living room, the kitchen is down the hallway to the north, and the door out of the house is to the south. Justin is here.

> open door
You open the front door. Claudia is standing there.

"Hello, professor," she starts. "Justin said he had something really important to tell me and to meet him over here, and..."

She pauses, finally looking at your ashen face. You step back and she sees Justin's twisted form laying at the bottom the stairs.

"Oh god! Justin!" she whispers, and rushes to his side. She looks over her shoulder at you. "He's barely breathing! What happened?"

"He fell. Just now. I was about to call 911," but you're talking to no one, as she has already rushed to the kitchen. You hear her on the phone, and she comes back after only a minute, sitting down next to Justin and taking his hand.

"It's okay, honey," she tells him. "Help is on the way." He doesn't respond, and she glares up at you.

> talk to claudia
At first, you're not sure what to say. It's clear she thinks you've failed in some way, that help wasn't already on the way. You kneel down beside her. You finally decide to say:
1. He just fell;
2. It wasn't my fault;
3. He'd been drinking; or
4. I'm sure he's going to be all right.

> 1
"Claudia, listen to me. He just fell, seconds before you got here. I was still in shock, hell I still am, I was about to call for help when you rang the doorbell."

She looks at you, and her harsh eyes soften just a little.

"I know, professor. Of course." She looks down at him. "I think he's dying."

"No, of course he isn't," you reassure her, hoping you sound sincere. You hear the sound of sirens growing closer. "I'll be right back."

You run into the kitchen, and shove Justin's paper behind the garbage disposal underneath the sink. You look down the hallway at Claudia, and try to think. The sirens are loud, now. They're almost here. How much had Justin told her? Nothing, everything? You can see her convulsing with sobs, hear her crying out to Justin to wake up, to keep breathing, and you decide to use her shock and grief at this tragic accident to your advantage. You'll seduce her. You bet that in the next few days you'll manage to take her to bed, and within a month she'll fall in love with you, her brilliant and dashing professor, who is on the verge of changing the world. And if she loves you, she'll believe that you made the discovery yourself, that Justin had called her over tonight because you had shown him the most amazing thing, and she needed to be brought into the loop. You step back into the hallway just as Claudia opens the door for the police and paramedics....

(press any key)

Death.

Day of the test....

You are standing on an endless plain of short, burnt grass.

> n
As you walk along, the cliffs get a little closer.

> n
As you walk along, the cliffs begin to loom a little higher.

> n
As you walk along, you realize that the cliffs you are approaching must be immensely high.

> n
As you walk along, the cliffs are now towering over you. In front of you seems to be an enormous gate carved into the rock.

> n
As you walk along, you get to where you have to arch your neck back to see the tops of the cliffs, and the closed gates in front of you are as high as a ten story building.

> x gate
At least 80 feet high, the stone gates set into the rock of the cliff itself are the only distinguishing feature for as far as you can see. In letters 10 feet high are the words, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter." Somehow, this does not surprise you. Stone gate is closed.

> z
Time passes...

With a rumbling groan of mammoth rock grinding against the massive cliff walls, felt in the rattle of your bones more than heard, the gates swing open wide.

> in
Calm for no good reason at all, you walk between the towering gates, and into the hall behind them. The gates grind shut behind you.

Entrance Hall
Carved into the interior of the cliff, large stone columns are spaced along the granite walls, which stretch up into darkness. The walls must curve into a ceiling at some point, but if they do you can't see where. Torches are set into the gray walls, providing meager, intermittent lighting, but it is enough for you to see down the length of the hall to it's far northern end, where a large object you can't quite make out sits on the floor.

> n
You move north.
The Throne
At the end of the hall sits a large stone throne, runes you do not recognize carved into its surfaces. A man sits on the throne.

> talk to man
"Where am I?" you ask the man.

He shakes his head, and says, "I think you know the answer to that, Gabriel." His voice is deep and resonant. "You are a learned man. I would have thought a Dante-style setting would be apropos for you."

> talk to man
"Who are you?" you ask this strange man.

"I think you know the answer to that one, too, Gabriel," he tells you, the calm timbre of his voice allaying your apprehension somewhat. "My list of names is long, but I have more recently been known as Satan, the Devil, and Lucifer. You can call me 'Lou' for short, if it will make you feel better."

> talk to man
"But I'm not dead. What am I doing here?" you ask him.

"Ah, now that is an interesting question," he says, his lips curling into a smile, white canines showing. "Let's see: your body is not breathing, your heart is not beating, your brain is not functioning. How do you define dead? I assure you, you can't get much more dead than you are at this moment."

Shocked almost beyond words, you would think this man insane if not for the fact that you are standing here, in a cave with no ceiling, and have no recollection of how you came to be here.

"But that can't be. I'm just in a state of suspended animation, not dead. In a few days the field will be shut off, and I'll wake up." Wake up? You get it now; this must be some strange dream you're having while being suspended.

Lou just laughs, and it occurs to you that dreaming is impossible with all brain activity halted down to the atomic level.

"Now we're getting to the crux of all this," he tells you. "For you most certainly are as dead as a doornail, and your soul has fled your body. Four days from now, though, you are going to wake up, fine and dandy, as good as ever. That's something that hasn't happened in over two-thousand years, and I must say, I'm quite looking forward to it."

> talk to man
"Don't you see?" Lou asks you. "In your shorter tests, your soul was just hovering near you, like all souls do during a near-death experience, waiting to see if their body has truly died. The disorientation you always felt was from your soul returning to your body. This time, though, you stayed in the field too long, and you ended up here.

"And when the field is turned off, you'll leave here, breaking the agreement I've had for the last two millennia with a certain deity to restrain myself and all my minions to the confines of this place.

"You see, Gabriel, people really do have free will, and that means they are free to push the boundaries of the universe, whatever the result. You are freeing me, Gabriel, freeing me and mine to walk the world once more. Sure, the entire Host may stand against me, but my army is not insignificant, and another war will be far more entertaining than even one more minute down here."

> talk to man
"So what happens to me, now?" you ask him.

"Contrary to popular belief, Gabriel," he replies. "I am not an ungracious person. And I offer you a grateful choice: join me willingly, and in life wealth, fame, glory, and power beyond imagining will be yours. And when you die the next time, decades from now, you can stand by my side, a prince of hell. Or resist me, and an eternity of pain and suffering will be your destiny."

If this is all for real, you're going to wake up in four days, alive and whole with a second chance no other man has ever had. Justin is a black mark on your record that would be hard to overcome, but you just may have a newfound devoutness. Loosing Satan on the world probably won't improve your case the next time you are judged, but it wasn't an intentional consequence of your actions.

"Don't worry, Gabriel," Lou says, before you can decide what to say. "There's no decision to be made just now, because we've one slight complication to deal with first. You are dead, have been judged and found wanting, and must serve your sentence, at least for a few days. On the bright side, that should be more than sufficient to convince you where not to spend eternity."

He smiles a last time, gracefully waves his hand, and your body is lifted from the ground at terrific speed and flung up towards the ceiling. You fly up out of the cavern and into a clear, sunny sky. Then you are falling, down towards an immense pit of nine rings dug into the ground, and you fall past the first, past the second, down to the seventh, towards a red river. As you drop, the thought occurs to you that as long as you stay here, Satan will not be set free....

(press any key)

Choose.

Today, now...

...your body is ripped into the air, faster than the centaurs can react. As you fly rapidly out of the inferno of the pit and past the enormous gates and the field of wandering souls, you pray your first prayer, calling out to God to keep you from returning to Earth, to life, to your corporeal body, begging Him to put you back in the river.

And abruptly your flight from Hell halts. You are floating, somewhere between Earth and Hell, between life and death. You can see nothing, feel nothing, but there is a presence here, a feeling growing stronger by the second in your chest, a feeling of awe and dread, a light in the fog around you. A voice, loud and terrible and calm, speaks.

"That prayer can be answered if you are sincere, Gabriel," the voice tells you. "I will not break the agreement I have made. Everyone gets true free will, even you. There is nothing special about you, Gabriel. You are just a person, like any other. The decisions you have made have brought you here, that is all, and I have done nothing to prevent it. Now you must make a final, immutable decision. If you wish it, to the river you will return. My law will be unbroken, and my first creation will remain where he is. Or, make a different decision, he will be free, and all he promised you will be yours. Choose. Now."

You were praying for this, for four days in Hell had thought you wanted it, but you never truly believed you would be given such a choice. Faced with the reality of sacrificing yourself to an eternity of agony or being rewarded now and forever, you are uncertain. Hesitatingly, you tell the voice you want to go back to:

1. The river of blood;
2. The MagLab.

> 1
"Put me back in the river."

The sound of the sentence has not yet died out before your vision clears, and you can see down into the MagLab. Claudia and Mike are there, and the video cameras are rolling. Your body is floating above the large generator, motionless in the field.

"Ready, Professor Baker?" Mike asks Claudia. You notice he is actually wearing pants and a dress shirt, but you suppose a tie would have been too much to expect. You float closer to your body, which Claudia is standing near. She is gazing up at your suspended form, her eager eyes glowing, radiant with anticipation.

"Yes, Mike. Do it. Turn off the field." Mike stabs a button on one of the computers, and the field is shut off. The atoms of your body, held in stasis for far too long, violently resume their motion, and your body explodes, ensuring your experiment will never be repeated and showering Claudia and most of the room in a fine mist of bone and blood.

Thankfully, you don't hear her screams as you are accelerated down out of the room, back across the field, through the gates, and down into the pit. You are given a body again, and it comes to rest standing on the shore of a boiling river. A centaur gallops towards you, face contorted with indignation and fury as it gestures towards the river. You walk forward, content in the knowledge that at last, when it really mattered, you finally did the right thing, and you go willingly to atone for Justin, for Claudia, for all of your mistakes. As you go, you tell yourself you can hear the faint sounds of Lou's cries of rage, hatred, and frustration reverberating through the air, and you smile as the river burns through your flesh.

-- end --