The wedding was planned, and things were feeling right with life. Winter was slowly giving way to Spring, and El was beginning to plan flowers for the backyard, anxious to get a little of her own touch on the space. She had also convinced Mike they should put in a small vegetable garden this year - lettuce, tomatoes, carrots; just a handful of the things she bought at the store each week. Really, it had taken little to convince Mike, El's infectious enthusiasm more than enough to make him pull out a shovel as soon as the ground thawed and start clearing a space for growing.
While Mike had put it off for as long as possible, he knew there was a pair of decisions they had to face, and it was probably time to do so. He had held off until he knew whether or not El was going to move on, but now that she was staying for good, he could take that step. While El initially said the decisions were his, and she trusted and supported whatever he chose, Mike insisted that he wanted her opinion as well. What he chose would affect her just as much as it would him, so it was only right that she was included in the process.
From the beginning, Mike had viewed his degrees, and later his position at the university, as a means to an end. While he found the field interesting enough, and he had proven he was good at it, it was never what he had intended to do with his life. They had put him in exactly the right spot, with the resources he needed, to find El and bring her home. Now that she was back in his arms, safe, healthy, and happy, he felt no passion for the work any more.
He had no doubt he could live out a comfortable career just coasting along, continuing to teach his classes, submitting the occasional paper to various journals and doing the sort of research that would keep the university satisfied. But he had spent the last year encouraging El to find what made her happy, and he owed it to himself to do the same.
Growing up, he had contemplated a lot of careers, but always he seemed to find his way back to one in particular. While it wouldn't be an easy road, he had wanted to be a writer. As much as he loved spending time with his friends, playing out a D&D campaign, his favorite part was actually the story crafting before hand. The adventures his friend's characters could go on, and the worlds he could build around them, was fulfilling in a way little else in his life had been. He had stories that had been rattling around in his head for years, though he had kept them pushed away to focus on more important matters. Now, with El home, and inspired by the series of books he had begun working his way through, all the old ideas were coming back to the surface.
El supported the idea, of course, confident in his ability just from the enthusiasm with which he described a few of his initial ideas. There was the matter of money while he got started, though he could always continue teaching for a few more years until he got published - if he could get published - and see if it would support them. There was another possibility, but that all hinged on his other and much larger decision: what to do with the two decades of research he had hidden away.
For years now, when he would allow himself to picture what life might be like once El was back - because he was certain she would someday be home - he had wrestled with what to do with everything he had built to find her. He had worked out the physics of traveling to parallel worlds. He had formalized a theory of how the universes were structured, joined and branched away from one another. He had built the practical machinery necessary to open doorways into any one of the universes he desired. He had cataloged, at a minimum the address and basic structure, of millions of these worlds, and explored hundreds.
His gut instinct, now that El was home, was to take all of it to the abandoned gravel pit north of the city, pile it into a heap and burn every scrap of it to the ground. What he had developed, in the right hands, could advance the human race faster than ever before. But he wasn't stupid. It had taken all of 10 minutes to picture a dozen ways it could, in the wrong hands, bring about the destruction of mankind as well. Without an appreciation of what lurked on the other side, someone could open a large doorway into one of the worlds where Earth doesn't exist, and begin emptying their world into the vacuum. Someone could, knowingly or not, throw the doorway into the Upside-Down wide open and unleash monsters upon the world. A single demogorgon, inadvertently let in, had wreaked havoc on Hawkins and only El had been able to stop it.
Far less accidental, he could imagine a military power weaponizing the technology as well. It would be simple enough to find an unoccupied world, bring an army through, march them within enemy borders and open another gateway back to Earth. Pour an entire army onto the streets of an enemy capital and the war would be over before it began. Less soldiers would die, perhaps, but people would suffer immeasurably from the new instability that would reign across the globe. While he wouldn't be the one pulling the trigger, the destruction could be traced back to him. The name Wheeler would join the likes of Oppenheimer, as a great Destroyer of Worlds.
Everything he had built could either cause humanity to flourish or bring about its final destruction, and he couldn't face the pressure of making the decision. He had talked it through with Will over countless drinks, and a few times with a clearer head as well. He had talked it over with El, too, and she had her thoughts on it. She, better than most, understood the ramifications of power in hands that don't know how to wield it. But she could also see the good that could come from it. The world was a big place full of people, and the ability to spread out with less competition could have its benefits. Whatever he chose, El supported Mike, and knew it would be the right decision.
It was the last week of March, when the campus was shut down between terms, that Mike knew how he wanted to handle things, and scheduled a meeting with Carl Anderson, his department chair and the man who had taken a chance on Mike as a grad student doing promising research in magnetic imaging.
"I wanted to do this in person, because it deserves more than just a letter," Mike began, mustering the courage to close this chapter of his life. "I've decided I won't be returning in the Fall; I'm ready to be done teaching."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I hate to lose you," Carl said after a stunned pause, Mike's departure the last thing he had been expecting. "Your students all speak highly of you, and your research has been beyond exemplary. I can't tell you how many times over the years I've had to fend off the Physics department when they talk about trying to poach you away. Can I ask what brought this on?"
Mike did his best to explain, in abstract terms, how the field had never been his passion, just something he turned out to be good at. It had been a means to an end, that he couldn't really explain at the moment, but that its purpose was complete and it was time to move on.
"Before I leave," he continued, reaching into his worn leather bag and pulling out an old, dog-eared notebook, "I have something I want to sell to the university. Call it my life's work."
"Mike, that's not really how this works," he said, leaning back in his chair with a small laugh. "Believe me, we all have things we'd love to sell, but the university already owns, or at least has some rights to, all your work from your time here."
"I know," Mike agreed with a smile. "This is something a little different. I suppose the university owns a portion of it; I've certainly made advances in my time here. The original findings go back further than that, though."
"You had a similar clause when you did your graduate work in Chicago, so really that would only complicate things further."
Mike sat in silence, the small grin widening on his face.
"Undergrad research?" Carl asked, leaning forward in his chair again, suddenly intrigued at just what the notebook might contain.
"I guess if it goes back to the beginning, I was between institutions at the time. If it came down to it, the Hawkins Middle and High Schools could fight over it, or maybe since they're one district they could try to jointly claim it. Do public schools have any claim over student research?"
"Alright, now you have my attention," Carl admitted. "What exactly is it you have there?"
Mike slid the book across the desk and sat back as Carl began to flip through the initial pages. While the original copies of his notes were spread across a whole shelf of notebooks and journals, he had a few where he distilled all of the important findings and equations in a more coherent form. While he was only skimming, Carl recognized enough of the equations and diagrams to form a picture of what Mike had been working on.
"Your joking, right?" he said with a chuckle. "I mean, they're important theories, sure, but without a practical application they aren't of much use."
Mike just watched in silence, holding his comments back as Carl continued flipping, equations and theory giving way to early plans for the portal devices.
"So, it looks like a little of everything in there. It's been a few years, but I recognize Alders and Schwartz, with a little Einstein in there for good measure; I see what you're getting at. About all you're missing is Everett," he said, continuing to scan the pages as they slowly turned. "Never mind, you've got him here too. You're talking about one of the Holy Grails of physics here, Mike. You're not the first, not even the thousandth, but like I said, it's all just theory. Alders work showed that the energy requirements, if it were even possible, would be unfathomable."
Mike just smiled back, the objection expected and his rebuttal ready to go. He had to admit, he felt just a little bit of pride finally presenting his work to someone who knew the theories and had long ago brushed them off as an impossibility.
"Alders' harmonic coefficient was too high, by almost a billion-fold; page 23," Mike said quietly. "Once you drop that down, the energy requirement becomes almost embarrassingly reasonable."
Carl could only stare, the realization dawning slowly, Mike's confidence betraying his progress. "Are you trying to tell me, you've made it work?"
"I ran the first one off the dryer circuit in my parents basement." Mike admitted with pride.
"It's not possible," Carl said, standing suddenly from his chair and beginning to pace the room. "It's all theory. I mean, the stuff of science fiction. Other dimensions, other worlds. It's just not possible, Mike. Is it?" he asked, suddenly stopping and looking at Mike again.
"It's not quite what Everett had in mind, but it's close," Mike confirmed. "There's a lot out there."
"Okay," he said, dropping into the chair again, suddenly exhausted. "So you want to sell this? What's your price?"
A demonstration was set for two days later. Carl would be joined by Howard Bergman, the Physics chair who had been trying to steal Mike away for years, and Grace Scott, Dean of the College of Sciences - the person with the authority to make the sort of deal Mike was looking for. Mike and El carefully dug through the collection of worlds he had cataloged, selecting destinations for a carefully curated tour that would demonstrate not only the viability of the machine but also the diverse worlds that exist just beyond the doorway. They spent an afternoon moving the collection of computers and test-rigs from his home lab to the industrial park, putting his entire workforce on display in a single location. While he had only run them off and on since El had come home, he set them all to work again, climbing ever higher in the address-space, cataloging whatever they could find.
The day of the event, Mike donned his old exploring outfit again, looking the part of Indiana Jones one more time. Boots that had stomped through the mud in hundreds of decaying worlds. The leather coat, stained with the blood, sweat and tears of countless failed searches. Atop his head, the Stetson representing a promise fulfilled. By his side, El was similarly attired for the day, boots and jeans topped with a dark canvas jacket. Their stops for the day wouldn't be anywhere dangerous, and the attire was probably overkill, but Mike had an impression he wanted to make on their visitors; the first outside their circle of family and friends that would be privy to the information.
The trio arrived together, stepping into Mike's lab and looking around in wonder at the test-rigs arrayed along one wall, their clicks and hums filling the air as they cataloged their assigned worlds. After exchanging pleasantries and introducing El to Howard and Grace - Carl having already met her at a department party a month earlier - Mike silenced the rigs so they could speak more easily.
"So," Grace began, "Carl has been rather tight-lipped about just what you intend to demonstrate today. Only that it is a breakthrough of incredible value that you want to sell to the university. As I'm sure he's already explained, we can't exactly buy the rights from you for the research you've been doing, but other compensation can be arranged in special circumstances. So what do you have to show us?"
With a smile, Mike started into his presentation, carefully rehearsed. El hung back during the initial explanation of everything he had discovered, and the advancements he had made. In those moments, she couldn't help but remember with a smile a much younger but equally confident Mike Wheeler, explaining to her how everything would turn out alright. It had taken longer than either of them could have ever imagined, but he kept his promises.
As they started out on the grand tour of worlds, she was right by his side, stepping through each gateway arm-in-arm with him as they led their guests into each new world. They marveled at the sparkling waters of the world Mike had first opened with a pained expletive at a stubbed toe. Mike led them into the world of "Don't" to show them animal life unlike anything they had ever seen before. While he had been hesitant to return, it was cathartic to finally visit with peaceful intent. The plant-nibbling inhabitants showed neither recognition nor fear of Mike as he led the group through flowery fields.
While the air was too thin to remain for more than a few minutes, Mike took the group through to one of the more mesmerizingly curious worlds he had cataloged. The impact on this version of Earth that had scatted chunks of the still-molten planet into orbit had created not one, but two moons. The group stared in wonder at the twin bodies, one just cresting the horizon, the other high in the sky. While tectonics and tides had left this version of Earth less habitable, it gave a clear demonstration of the subtle differences that led to drastically different outcomes in each world.
As they returned to the lab, the principle tour complete and minds reeling from all they had been shown, Mike called up one final address: 011M-011K-011.0H. While the space around the lab wasn't nearly as perfect as the garden near the house, El's world held a simple meadow in this spot. He had often visited when he needed to step out of the lab and clear his head for a few minutes. This morning, in preparation for their guests, Mike and El had brought through a folding table and a set of chairs. As the group stepped through and into the bright mid-day sunshine, they were met by a simple lunch spread - sandwiches and sodas - and it had the desired effect to put the trio at ease.
Over lunch, Mike laid out a little more of all he had found, and his concerns of the ways it could be misused. Currently, he had a basic catalog of 8,023,500 worlds. Of these, he had stepped into 537 himself. With a dire warning, he stressed how a handful of worlds were extremely dangerous, and should not be visited. Some others were completely devoid of life, and needed further investigation to determine if they were safe to enter. There were a few worlds - seven to be precise - that needed to be handled with extreme care. These were inhabited by huminoid creatures, close cousins to themselves, who appeared to be of similar intelligence and evolutionary advancements. There were not as many of these worlds as one might think, the human design an apparent rarity among the cosmos, but still there were civilizations forming on these worlds - a few already as advanced as us upon first look - and needed to be protected.
"Unless you have pulled off the most masterful illusion I've ever seen," Grace finally began, "then I think it's safe to say you have turned pretty much every discipline of science on its head. I never thought I would witness a breakthrough like that in my lifetime, if such a thing were even possible, and you've done it single-handedly from your parent's basement."
"Now you see why I've been trying to steal him away from Carl all these years," Howard threw in with a laugh, still overwhelmed by the days events.
"I'm hesitant to ask," she went on, ignoring the comment. "Seeing as you can't even put a price on what you've demonstrated here today, just what kind of compensation are you trying to get for all this?"
"I can assure you, I'm not asking for much." Mike smiled. "Three things, that I think you'll agree are reasonable. First, while I will be retiring from teaching, I would like to continue drawing my salary and benefits, following the normal pay-scale increases. No special deals, just things continuing as though I were still on staff. Number two, this doesn't get presented to the world as MY discovery. Whatever papers are published, whatever findings are released to the scientific community, credit can go to the university and whomever verifies and continues the work. If I had my choice, my name would be detached entirely, but a few people, who's opinions I trust, have told me I deserve to at least be mentioned."
This second request stunned the group. While none of them were in their respective fields for fame and glory, they couldn't say they would be opposed to their names going down in the annals of history.
"You don't want your name associated with all this? Even if you don't want all the credit, your friends are right, your name deserves to be tied to this. You've done what most of us can only dream of." Grace said, then after a pause, asked, "Can I ask why?"
Mike laid out his reasons, the good and bad he had already touched on, of just how the technology could steer humanity. He had forged the sword, but he knew he wasn't the one to decide how it should be wielded. He had another reason, which he explained was not to leave the world where they currently sat.
"Almost 22 years ago, I lost something precious to me, something irreplaceable, and all of this is what it took to get that back. That precious thing has been returned to my life, and I have no more need for the rest. It's time the technology was put into hands that can continue to do good with it."
The look he gave El during the admission, and the blush that rose to her cheeks in response, was impossible for the others to miss, though they couldn't even begin to fathom just what all he meant by it. All the same, they could respect the reasoning behind his hesitation to take credit.
"You said three terms. What's the third?" Carl asked, breaking the moment.
"This world right here," Mike said, gesturing around them. "It doesn't hold any significant resources, nothing that can't be found on countless other worlds, but this place holds a special meaning to me. I'd like to claim it as my own."
While Mike and El stepped away from the table for a few minutes, the trio consulted in hushed tones. Mike was confident their decision would come down in his favor, none of his requests unreasonable, and far less than he could have asked had he taken his equipment to any major corporation or government. El couldn't help but plant a quick kiss to his cheek in appreciation of the sweet sentiment he had admitted to the group.
"We've discussed it," Grace began, calling the pair back over, "and agree your proposal is more than fair. In the fall, we will select a team to take over your work, and we will need you to work with them for a period of time to hand off all of this. And, of course, you will be more than welcome to take on a class or two if you decide you miss teaching," she added with a smirk. "Beyond that, enjoy your retirement, professor emeritus Wheeler."
AN:
First, a huge thanks to those of you who have stuck around through my month absence. Working on something entirely my own has been...enlightening maybe? I've made enough progress to know I want to continue, though it is an entirely different beast from the writing I have been used to.
Second, Mike's decision. I've been wrestling with this chapter since, probably, March. I've sketched it out both this way, and with Mike torching it all. My reasoning is pretty much the way Mike laid it out. There are positive uses of what he created, but it can also be used in dangerous ways if it isn't respected. Really, S3 helped highlight this (I'll try not to pat my own back here..haha) I don't know if Mike passing off control of the whole thing is a cop-out, but it feels like putting it into more hands leaves it in a safer place. And it secured Mike and El's future to do pretty much whatever they would like.
Alright, onward and upward, and once again, Thanks!