Chapter Two
July 14th, 2007. The next day.
One of the theories of quantum mechanics states that the faster you move, the heavier you get. I enjoyed quantum mechanics very much, but I didn't always believe everything our professor lectured us about. If the theory I stated above did turn out to be have been true, I must have weighed four tonnes as I ran down the hallway of the California Institute of Technology.
There are very few things that make a grumpy twenty-two year-old run faster than the speed of light. One of these was the was fear of being caught late by the scariest man in the Universe; Professor Fhorchur, mechanic extraordinaire. Even his name meant 'imposing' in Irish. At least, that's what my grandad told me. I remember my very first class with the awful man. He was brilliant and a genius with machinery, but he didn't seem to like me all that much. At first glance, he seemed nice enough. He had a mop of very messy brown hair and his T-shirts were always stained with oil, but he was relatively polite... to the boys.
"Women and machinery do not mix." Was one of the first things he said to me. I wanted to laugh in his face. While he may have been a mechanical genius, he was beyond an idiot if he didn't think that a university-age female had not seen the film Titanic enough times to know that he has stolen that line from them. Despite that, I did not call his bluff and expose him to my less forgiving male peers. It he wished to make fun of me while I put so much effort into listening and understanding what he was teaching, then so be it.
I had always had a strong work ethic and as paired up with my stubbornness streak that my grandmother said I inherited from my father, I was unwilling to drop the course. Even after the sparse few other women in the class moved on to build less verbally scathing and more socially acceptable skills, I remained behind.
I totaled my hands fixing a sorts of machines and tore up the skin the same way I tore up a scrapped car. I bled and at night I would sometimes cry, but never in front of him. While some of the other boys in the class were desperate to earn his favor, I never strove to achieve that. I accepted since the very beginning that Professor Fhorchur didn't have any interest in teaching and to be honest, I could have cared less if he taught me. I knew basic skills, and perfecting those skills was all I needed to be successful.
I pushed thoughts of my dislike away to the back of my mind where they could exist peacefully as I came upon the school's garage. I huffed a sigh and then pushed open the thick black door, ready to stare hatred in the face as I did any other day. As I rounded the corner, the sound of machinery became more prevalent, but as soon as I walked into the sunlit space strewn with cars, bits of twisted metal and screwdrivers, I found a nice surprise waiting for me.
"Professor Bedrager?" I asked, a huge smile coming to my face. The man had his back turned to me, but I knew that shock of white hair and lab coat anywhere. He turned around and his extremely light green eyes found my gaze and he smiled as well as I set my bag down and walked towards him. I held my hand out and she shook it as I beamed. Today would not be as terrible as I thought, perhaps.
"Miss Walters, I'm happy to see you outside my class." He looked down at my legs which were clad in stained jeans that were lightened from the wash. "And wearing pants, no less!" I blushed from embarrassment as he mentioned my utter hatred towards dress pants of any kind.
"There's a first time for everything, Professor. Even for me." I said, laughing at my own little joke. Professor Bedrager was my most favorite teacher and coincidentally, he taught my most favorite subject; quantum mechanics. The old man was beyond clever and so full of amazing theories. Opposite to Professor Fhorchur, he respected me from the very beginning and seemed genuinely interested in my opinions.
"Yes, well, very good. I am looking forward to today's examination, I always find it quite refreshing to see such a bright student attempting to be well-rounded." I shrugged and walked towards my space, picking up a wrench. That day we were supposed to take apart the faulty engine of a car, find the problem and fix it.
I turned to look at the stations of my other classmates and noticed that merely a fraction were present. This was relatively unusual, especially when I noticed Victor, one of the best students in the class who was never absent, was. I lifted a brown eyebrow and narrowed my eyes a little bit. That was when a red flag went up. I decided to ignore the little inkling I had that something was wrong, and instead went about greasing my tools.
"Harry?" I asked the tall, blonde boy as he walked past. Harry never had a frown on his tanned face, at least I had never seen one, but there he was, walking by my work space looking like a five year-old who had lost their puppy. He didn't turn to look at me right away.
I ducked underneath the flat counter where my tool bench was and came up behind him. I tapped him on the shoulder and he stopped, turning around slowly. I was a bit afraid by that point, but I knew nothing bad could happen. Professor Bedrager was right there and Harry wouldn't and couldn't hurt a fly.
"Are you alright, Harry?" I asked. "You look so lost." The young man tilted his head to the side a bit and then shook his head as if saying 'no'. I raised my eyebrows. "Is there anything you need?" He gave me a distant look and then nodded.
"Doctor." He said in a very quiet voice. I furrowed my brow. "I need... the Doctor..." He sounded a bit like he was drowning, and yet we were nowhere near water of any kind! Still, the way he spoke was not what really had my warning signals flashing. Harry was a macho-man, as in he never ever admitted to being hurt. Victor ran over his hand once and the beefy guy didn't scream, he just got very, very pale.
"We don't have a medical doctor, just nurses." I told him, trying to keep the know-it-all tone out of my voice. Harry shook his head again.
"The Doctor... Doctor... Doctor..." He pushed past me and I watched him go with a raised eyebrow. He was acting so odd. Then again, it was a Monday, everybody was a little bit off and a little bit hungover. I shrugged and returned to my workspace, cleaning off my many screwdrivers and monkey wrenches.
A half of an hour flew by at unimaginable speed and I soon came to the realization that class had not even begun yet. I frowned and looked to wrist watch. That was very odd. I lifted my head and opened my mouth to say something, but I found that I was completely alone. There were only seven other people excluding my favorite Professor anyway, but now the garage was completely vacant and the sun had clouded over.
"That's odd." I said to myself. "Professor Bedrager?" I asked, ducking under the counter and coming up the other side. "Are you here?" I inquired in a louder voice. I walked around one of the cars and had to bite my tongue to keep myself from screaming at what I saw on the ground. "Dear God! Professor?" I shouted, getting down on my knees.
His skin had gone a chalky pale and his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. It was a hundred degrees in the heat trap that was the garage and yet his body shook from cold tremors. I pressed a hand to his forehead but had to withdraw it quickly. I looked to my finger tips and gasped when I saw that heat blisters had bloomed on my skin. I looked back down to my Professor and put two fingers against his wrist. I dropped his hand when I realized that his pulse was terribly fast.
I shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up and put him to rights. "Professor?!" I exclaimed as I felt his skin burn through his lab coat. "Professor, please wake up!" I was too busy shouting orders at my half conscious teacher to notice that we were no longer alone in the room.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Someone behind me said. I remember thinking 'Lord be praised, someone who actually knows what they're doing!' My hope was shattered when I turned around.
Standing in the doorway of the garage was the last person I expected to see. Or possibly the first. The trouble was that I had never met him before in my life and found that I could only judge as far as appearance. To be honest; he looked like an utter dolt! He wore a cream dress shirt with black trousers held up by red suspenders and a tweed suit jacket. Around his neck was an admittedly nice bow tie, but the entire ensemble together along with his rather lengthy hair reminded me of the stereotypical nerd you saw every so often on the telly.
"Who are you?" I could keep the biting tone out of my voice. The strange man held his hands up, but still took a step forward.
"I'm the Doctor and once again I ask that you not do that." He said when I put my hands on my Professors shoulders.
"Thank goodness, a doctor!" I said loudly, turning back to my teacher. I kept my hands at bay just as he told me to. I heard the doctor fellow get walk a bit closer to me, but it was still a huge surprise when I felt his hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from y teachers shaking form. I yelped a little bit as his grip was a tiny bit too tight, but he did not let go until we were several meters from the Professor.
I spun around to look the strange man in his green eyes. I was confused beyond all reason and very, very scared. Fear was black to me, and it swirled in front of my vision, blurring my world and threatening to plunge me into darkness. I forced myself to hold the man's odd gaze for a moment before a wide smile came over his mouth. I did not know why, but some of the fear swirled away into nothing when he did so.
"Look at you!" He exclaimed, lifting one of his thin, pale hands and placing it on my cheek. I frowned and blinked once before pushing his hand off of my face.
"Don't touch me." I snapped and he withdrew his hand. He put it back at his side and I gave him my hardest glare, but I had no time to speak to him any longer. Professor Bedrager gave out a startled gasp and his bright eyes flew open. I turned to go back to him but whipped around when the rather rude Doctor grabbed my arm.
"Stay back." He said in a calm voice. I stopped fighting him. There was something so very strange about the way he spoke. It was an ancient voice, one that demanded power and respect. It told you to listen to him, to trust him.
"What do you want me to do then?" I asked, jerking my arm away from him. I looked to my Professor, who seemed to be drowning on land. Suddenly, He sat up straight as a board. His eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open. He turned and looked to me. His gaze was so frightening. I back up a little bit subconciously as he raised his hand and pointed a finger at me. I looked to the Doctor and then back to my Professor
"I want you to run." He said. And I did.
