If you had just made an unprecedented scientific breakthrough, then, after you were done waving your arms and shouting excitedly, it was generally considered good practise to carry out documentation.
A lot of documentation.
"State your name for the benefit of the camera," said Wybie to Tripod, who sat with ill-disguised boredom in the middle of the resting camera's view point.
"I don't have a name. I know who I am, without the need for a label. You call me Tripod. And I've been meaning to have a word with you about that."
"Oh, and this begins Interview No. 1 with Test Subject Alpha, dated the thirty-first of March, two thousand and twenty-four. Probably should have put that in at the beginning," said Wybie absently.
"The way you tin-openers manage to undermine yourselves so quickly after doing something worthy is a constant source of amusement to us, you realise that? It's like nepeta, but it never stops."
"As seen, the erosion of real/Sur-real barriers has been successfully achieved by the Eroder Mark Twenty, an effect which evinces itself, amongst other things, in allowing verbal communication between humans and cats. Would you care to demonstrate this again, Tripod?"
"That damn name again. I know you're talking to me; you don't have to keep bringing it up. Are you frightened that you'll forget everything about your partner in a conversation halfway through? That would explain a lot about your species if so."
"The cause of this effect has yet to be determined. Multiple hypothesises have been devised; including cats being creatures of simultaneously real and Sur-real attributes, the erosion of the Sur-real barrier enabling universal comprehension, regardless of species, or perhaps the physical alteration of cats by the properties of the Sur-real."
"From now on, you will address me with no name. To get my attention, a simple call will suffice. Use that name for conversations between yourselves if you must, but don't inflict it on me where I can hear it."
Wybie looked around, and scratched his head vaguely, his fatigued eyes dipping in and out of concentration. "Um, let me think of another question."
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Wybie, get some sleep," said Coraline, mercy plucking at her conscience. "Do this tomorrow when you're at the top of your game. We can get everything we need done then."
"One more thing," said Wybie, rallying briefly. "Tripod, I'm going to deactivate the Eroder field. Keep talking after I do so, and let me see if the effect dissipates." He reached down and thumbed a switch on the machine's side.
"…Super. He enables understanding between Grimalkind and the Binadamu, and what does he do? Ignores the other side and just makes excited noises. You realise that this is a problem that applies to your enwwrrr mmewrr." Tripod sneezed, surprised, and then looked away in exasperation. The energy that had filled the room was fading, and Wybie reached out to switch the camera off.
There was a loud crack from it and he withdrew his hand, and stared at the smoke spilling out in oily trickles from its depths. He slapped his forehead.
"Sur-real, meet tech. Tech, meet Sur-real. Well, that was a wasted fifteen minutes."
"Mrrew," said Tripod by way of frustrated agreement.
Coraline gave him a sympathetic pat to one shoulder. "We'll just drag someone here and get them to watch. Tomorrow." Her voice sharpened with barely-restrained pleasure at the prospect. "The look on Skirving's face will be something that'll keep me warm inside for years after, I just know."
"Tomorrow," said Maria thoughtfully. "Easter Monday and the first of April. How long do you think it'll be before people realise it's not a joke?"
"Too long. We have to get this settled once and for all." Coraline turned to the door. "Everyone get some sleep. Let's get ourselves ready."
The cool light of evening melted away before night, tipping past the horizon to yield to a blackness studded with stars, a mirror of the shining cityscape. Lights blazed steadily above and below, vying to outshine the other.
Before long, tendrils of pink and yellow crept back over the east, shoving away the stars and dimming the city. The sun followed hard on their heels, a coin that rose fraction by fraction and cast the world into light. Not a single cloud was there to impede it.
Whatever else, All Fool's Day and Easter Monday would have their sun.
Coraline woke with the dawn, rising from her bed in her relatively Spartan apartment. She washed herself, got dressed, and ate a small breakfast as quickly as possible, eager to get the day on the move.
She stepped out just as the city began to buzz with the recently awoken, coming alive with work and bustle after the weekend. It was only a short walk from her apartment building to the Thaddeus Complex, but the way was choked with blaring cars and milling pedestrians. Her heavy coat, peaked cap and blue hair only got a few token glances on the way, which she ignored.
She crossed paths with Maria and Wybie on the way, one of them wide awake, the other still yawning. Sayid had Mondays and Tuesdays off, and Coraline knew he had his own work to keep him busy.
"So," said Coraline, skipping preamble as they walked. "Ready to turn the world as humankind knows it on its head?"
"Ready and eager," said Maria, absently checking her inbox with her phone. Wybie, as sleepy-eyed as he was, seemed distracted by something.
"What sort of documentation do you think I'll have to submit?" he asked. "A full report and dissertation, of course, and transcripts of the first conversations with Tripod. What else? The samples I used? A full history of the development of the Eroder? What am I missing? Is there something I'm missing?"
"Wybie, my college degree was in American History," said Coraline. "You're the one sitting on a physics degree. I'm not sure how much help I can be here unless a working knowledge of the aftermath of the Amistad revolt can help your case."
"Maria, forensic science any good to me?"
"I wouldn't count on it."
"Dammit," he muttered. "Dissertation, transcripts, samples, study history. Should the Eroder have a patent? And … is that Tripod?"
They looked up at that observation, and saw that it was indeed Tripod approaching them at a lurch down the street.
"That's odd," said Coraline. "He doesn't normally leave the complex."
The cat neared them, mrrwing at the top of his lungs, fixing his gaze right upon them. He stopped in front of them, and jerked his head back along the street, in the direction of the Thaddeus Complex.
"What's that you say, boy?" said Wybie, kneeling down. "Timmy fell down another well?"
Tripod looked back along the street and hissed and arched his back, his tufted fur bristling.
"Timmy's being attacked by a snake? Timmy's playing with matches and kerosene? Timmy's juggling toasters in the bathtub?"
There was the feline equivalent of an exasperated yowl, and Tripod delivered it while arching his tail in the direction of the complex while staring Wybie down.
A dark suspicion stole over Coraline's mind.
"Wybie," said Coraline quietly. "Maybe you shouldn't be the one talking to the cats." She knelt down beside Tripod, who was by then bashing his head repeatedly against the sidewalk. "Is there something going on at the complex?" she asked. Several passers-by gave her odd looks and a wide berth. Tripod rolled his eyes back in his head with relief, and nodded firmly towards the complex.
Several scenarios came to Coraline's mind, none of them good. "Come on," she said to Wybie and Maria, rushing in the direction indicated by Tripod. She was only barely aware of them following her, focused as she was on moving quickly.
And when she turned the last corner on the last street a couple of minutes later and saw the complex, she knew the worst had happened.
The windows of the complex were open to the sun, each set of curtains having been pulled back by someone other than the department. Tire tracks were evident in the grass around it, and an agent in a dark suit stood in front of the main door.
"This building is closed to access, ma'am," said the man as Coraline advanced. "Please step back."
"This is my department's headquarters," said Coraline, her voice taut with suppressed anger, her hand clenched around her proffered ID. "I have every right to access it."
The man glanced at the ID over the top of his glasses.
"Ms Jones, your department's legitimacy is under dispute, and the Thaddeus Complex has been closed to you. Were you not informed via the federal intranet earlier?"
"Our intranet-linked computer is in the building, and we didn't receive any message yesterday. How could we have been informed? And when the hell was our department's legitimacy questioned?"
"To the best of my knowledge, the measure was pushed through late last night. It received the necessary support in the cabinet, and you were informed via…"
"I know that we're entitled to more warning time than this. Who the hell's pushed this through? And how many federal safeguards and laws do you think they've broken?"
"I couldn't comment," said the agent, his expression level, his tone unsympathetic. "Regardless, I've been ordered to keep this building closed until a full audit has been completed."
Fury broiled through Coraline's veins. Whoever was springing this was deliberately trying to destroy her department. And whether their timing was accidental or deliberate …
(Deliberate, whispered a tiny part of her. No way in hell is this chance.)
… they needed what was inside the building. They needed the Eroder.
She could discuss rights of access with the agent until she was blue in the face, and Coraline suspected it wouldn't do her any good. He was under orders, which was always a dangerous state. And she needed the machine quickly, if the shut-down was being forced this quickly.
Her mind alit upon another solution.
She turned away from the agent without a word, and walked briskly back along to the street corner where Wybie and Maria, caught off guard by her run towards the centre, were only now catching out.
"They've shut us down," she said simply. "We can't get access to the complex."
"What? How can they do that?" said Wybie. "Can they do that?"
"They can't," replied Maria. "They've got to give us some sort of forewarning. We've got to be able to present our case, access our materials to do our jobs."
"So someone's playing a little loose with the law? Interesting," said Coraline, turning to look back at the complex. "Well, that makes me feel much better about what I'm about to do."
"Why? What are you about to do?"
The irregularity of the Thaddeus Complex extended to its outside. Parts of the building protruded from the rest, forming a few unintentional alleyways leading to dead ends past overshadowed walls.
Superfluous windows were set into some of these walls.
And from one of the windows, there was the sound of breaking glass.
"Careful when climbing over," said Coraline, picking herself gingerly over a frame set with broken glass. "Slipping … could lead to problems."
"Merciful God, we're going to jail," said Maria, following her. "We're breaking into a federal building, and we're going to jail after this."
"It's our own complex. It's got only our stuff in it," said Coraline. "And once we show them what we can do, they won't press charges."
"And the windows aren't alarmed. Nobody bothered upgrading the place since the Cold War," added Wybie, climbing over the broken window with especial care. "And now it occurs to me that we've been pretty lucky to not have been broken into before." Behind him, Tripod tensed and pounced right over the window, wobbling slightly mid-transit.
"I think it's the building's shape. If people look at it for too long, their brain gets tied in knots," said Coraline, glancing down an unlit corridor. There were no sounds from any other people in the building. Maybe they were still waiting for an audit team. Maybe.
"Come on," said Wybie, taking the lead. "It's not too far from here to my lab. And this is kind of fun. We're more like those federal agents you see in films, whose job seems to consist of breaking into places and having gunfights."
"That's the thing," said Maria. "That's the situation. We're breaking into our own complex, to retrieve a machine that can mould together worlds, after being warned of something going wrong by a talking cat."
"Maria, are you implying that the situations in which we find ourselves aren't entirely normal?"
"Just a little bit."
Coraline, ignoring the conversation, saw a familiar door.
"There's your lab, Wybie. Let's just get the Eroder and get out."
"Sure thing." He brushed past her, and took out a ring of keys from a pocket and tested one in the lock. The door swung open.
Coraline stepped through.
And then she knew when the auditors had arrived.
Although it was hard to get the lab much more chaotic than it had already been, someone had given it a really good try. Paper and machines and jars and wires lay strewn in an even greater state of disorder. Drawers had been left open, and the wall set with whiteboards had lost some of its load, one board lying amidst fallen post-it notes.
Wybie immediately ran forwards while Coraline thought dark thoughts about the capacity for bad situations to always get worse.
Wybie checked over every workstation surface, his eyes moving in a blur. He knelt down abruptly and hurled open a particular drawer. He looked through it, and reached in and rummaged amidst scraps of paper frantically, and then drew away.
"Someone's taken it," he said, his voice quiet as he tried to process the implications. "Someone's taken them both."
"What've they taken?" asked Coraline, though she already half-suspected the answer.
"Someone's taken the binder with all our stuff on the psychephages," he said. "And they've taken the working Eroder. They've cleared us out. And they knew what they were coming for."
