I think we should do it.
I stared at the computer screen with dread. His voice echoed in my ear, through the earpiece of my headset, egging me on. Ten years of friendship brought me to this place.
"Don't be a puss, Will." Mark continued with his insistence.
My chair creaked as I sat back. I slowly typed in the command. He chuckled as he watched me type. He could see my desktop just as I could see his. Through the remote viewing window I watched him type in a corresponding command. But I didn't hit enter.
Nervous fingers inched away from my keyboard. They scuttled down to my lap, where I brushed the sweat from my palms.
I reminded him, "We're talking about space and time."
"This isn't a test, Will." He growled into the microphone. "We already did the test."
"The ramifications are huge."
"I knew this'd happen." I heard him hit his desk. "I knew you'd wuss out."
"We're scientists." I went on but he stopped me.
"Exactly. And scientists push the boundaries. They reach out and embrace the possibility of great and fantastic things."
My eyes closed and I kept them shut. The darkness behind my eyelid was speckled with the light from my monitor. Speckles of light hovering at the back of my ocular cavity.
"No one knows." I said more to myself than to Mark.
But Mark responded, "That's right. No one knows. Because this is ours. No conglomeration or board of deans will claim ownership. This is a Brick and Stoddard discovery."
My eyes snapped open and I put my fingers back on the keyboard. "I meant that no one knows what were doing. They won't know if something goes wrong. And they won't be able to confirm if something goes right."
"Once we have proof," Mark said impatiently, "real proof, not some half assed test, they'll have every chance to prove or disprove our findings."
I pressed down on my sock covered toes. Around my feet multiple towers vibrated. The computer power would impress any geek. I was on the cutting edge, so cutting that I was about to cut through reality.
"Look." Mark seduced my ear with his best salesman voice, the same voice he used to win the grant that paid for the hardware at my feet. "We're talking about writing history. Rewriting the propaganda. Showing the multiple perspectives of what really happened."
"Doesn't that sound dangerous to you?" I could hear the whine in my voice. I was pleading him to understand why I wanted to wuss out. How I could be afraid of this fantastic adventure.
"I'm to excited to be scared, man, and you should be excited too."
"I..." He was wearing me down. Or maybe the adrenaline was waning. I just wanted it to be over. Consequences be damned.
"We have the power to take a snapshot of history. To capture a view of things in a way no one else-"
I interrupted, "Your right."
I sat up in my chair. My hands went to the keyboard. A pinky over the vital key. And I hit enter.
The End.
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