Where Do We Come From, Where Do We Go?

It’s not to say that Jerome had no insights into the process, after all, he was the one who had figured out the science behind the innovation more than a decade ago. But there was only so much he could have known about the experience of teleportation without having teleported even once.

Yes, that’s who Jerome was. The greatest visionary and executor of present time yet the most cowardly of the lot. Any sane person would have thought twice about using an invention that the inventor himself was unsure about, but these were not sane times and sane people are not the ones we are dealing with.

But here’s the thing, what he lacked in courage, Jerome made up with a deep sense of affection. He cared far too much about everything, and more so about things that he had no control over.

And one such concern that went beyond his power was in fact his own creation.

Now, don’t be of the mind that he had mistakenly chanced upon the formula or had had his own 'Eureka!' moment that had brought him to build the machine. No, it wasn’t a matter of revelation to him.

On the contrary, he had spent decades researching and engineering one version after another till he had finally reached the end-product.

The first human to test the machine had been his assistant who much too eagerly had given herself up to the trial. And when she had appeared out of thin air some ten metres away, he had known that they had cracked the code.

One after another, tens of researchers had then tried it out, followed by the investors themself. All of them had reported observations much too varied to chop down to one single experience. But the good news was, it worked!

Despite all of this, Jerome had never felt confident enough to test his own fate. He somehow knew that the moment he stepped into his brainchild, it would be his last.

Nevertheless, he had approved the commercialization of the machine and signed over the patent rights to the largest transportation corporation - Galter.

And when they had asked him to name the product, he had uncreatively suggested his own name.

They had settled for an option far less serious and named it Jeremy.

So now, each day, millions of people went to work and back in their own Jeremys. Suffice to say, no newborn in the last decade had gotten that name.

But this wasn’t the concern he was currently dealing with; he had gotten over the name snub a long time back, at least that’s what he believed. No, his present distress was a matter much closer to the heart.

As I speak, Jerome cruised his eyes over the numbers once again, which had been reported to him only a couple of hours ago. Apparently, in Jerome’s perspective, everyone except for him was blind to the fact that the machine he had developed was doing more human damage than good. The fatalities kept rising every day, but just because they weren’t great enough to reflect statistically, the rest of the world carried on comfortable in the knowledge that there was only a 1 in million chance of them vanishing in a Jeremy.

Jerome swiped at the screen as flippantly as he would a mosquito and made his way twenty-three floors below to the most redundant thing on the planet – a hovercar.

There were only a few people who owned a hovercar anymore, but even they shied away from the prospect of actually using it. But not our Jerome; he was dedicated to the only remaining alternate and made use of it unfalteringly, even when he had nowhere to go.

Did this mean that on most occasions he had to start his day at 5 am even when most of his peers slept in till 8?

Yes.

Did this also mean that despite his strict planning he often wound up late for most of his engagements?

Yes again.

But he knew no one would dare ostracize him, let alone impugn him for his late arrivals. Which is why owning and using a hovercar was at the very most a matter of principle and at the very least a matter of luxury.

***

So, where was he headed?

When Jerome had read the report this morning, he had experienced a rather familiar urge to topple the system and press restart, or even undo.

His past attempts to do so had been restricted to holding an inane number of grievance meetings with the heads at Galter, but to no effect. Truth be told, the only reason they ever entertained him was out of strained respect for the brain that had given them their bestseller.

Which is why Jerome knew that this time his efforts would have to be directed some other way.

Point to note here, again, Jerome was not a courageous man. But he was idealistic, and his ideals could drive him to ends no another would dare to go. And this time, he was going that far.

Though Jerome had sold the teleporter and its designs to Galter, his research agency still provided back-end support for its intelligence operations.

At first, when they had suggested this to him, Jerome had been reluctant to keep the technical processing requirements with himself and his team.

But now it looked like maybe the inconvenience could work out in his favour.

He hadn’t been to work in almost a year and was sure to raise some Xeyebrows if he made a sudden appearance like this, however, he knew the chances of bumping into anybody were slim, especially since he always took the route least travelled by, literally.

You see, there was a Jeremy situated within every fifty metres of the office space, making life more sedentary than it needed to be. This also meant that the elevators had been long forgotten and the only person who ever occupied them was Jerome.

And in the rare cases when a Jeremy did break down or was undergoing maintenance, most people still chose to walk an extra 50 metres to the next teleporter than inconvenience themselves with a 10-metre stroll to the lift.

So, Jerome safe in this knowledge, linked his hovercar to the building’s airway and parked it close enough for access but far enough to avoid spotting.

He ran as fast as his fifty-two-year-old legs would allow and snuck in till he had reached the closest elevator and was inside it.

Huffing and puffing, he tried to regain his breath, for the most audacious part of his plan was yet to begin.

Twenty floors above, Harris thought he saw his closest friend scampering through the airway and into the building, and then laughed at his own thought; there was no way that man was Jerome, because, in twenty years of their friendship, he had never seen that man run.

***

Jerome had made it to his office unseen, though not undetected. If they ever checked the entry codes in the future, Jerome’s passcode was sure to stand out from the crowd. But that was a problem for later.

Right now, all he needed to do was shut down the systems permanently, rewire the formula and secure it so it could not be reconstructed by anyone but him.

Had it been strategic or a simple case of paranoia, no one could say, but Jerome had obscured from everyone the X-factor of the equation that had made teleportation a reality. Even his assistant and fellow researchers till date were clueless about the one thing that had made it all tick.

And here was Jerome, going to shut down the product of their decades of hard work without them even knowing.

As he sat typing in one code after another, reconfiguring the entire system beyond recognition, the only thing Jerome could think about was the dream world he had imagined years ago.

He had thought that by making teleportation a reality, he would forever be remembered as the man that unshackled everyone from their prison-like lives. He would be the one to set them free from the strains of time.

But Jerome always was more naïve than realistic.

As soon as the machines had been launched for sale, companies by the millions had invested heavily in buying one Jeremy each for their employees.

And just like that, the time awarded by teleportation began to be paid in full to the employers. People were expected to spend all the time they had saved in travelling at office instead, and Jerome had seen the best of people wither away under the relentless baggage of work; not to mention their own desk-bound bodies.

It seemed hilarious that he, a man well past the middle-age was healthier than the 20 something folks of the world.

Jerome heaved a sigh. If anyone ever did even stop to think about him, he knew it was only with a sense of contemptuous indifference.

He wondered if anyone would ever know that despite everything, he was the one to turn the tide. There was no way Galter would pin the blame on him though, they were smarter than that.

Would he be imprisoned for this? Would he be executed?

His fingers paused for a moment, but the damage had already been done. There was no turning back.

With the final press of a button, he set into motion the last leg of his adventure. In ten minutes, all Jeremys would begin to die a slow death.

He had made sure to key in security measures to ensure that the travellers would be kicked out at the closest communal stop when time came for the shutdown.

All there was left to do was return to home base where his exit plan was to be set in motion before chaos ensued.

***

Jerome exited his office and began running at his top speed, which wasn’t a lot, keep in mind, when the alarms started ringing loudly from every corner of the building.

The system had detected an anomaly. Jerome was only surprised that they hadn’t chimed earlier. Things really had slowed down in his absence.

He reached the elevator and waited for the motion recognition software to kick in. But the elevator never came.

In all his cockiness, Jerome had forgotten that the systems powered out during security emergency situations. And this was definitely one of those moments.

“Damn it!” He looked around a few times, trying without reason to find a way out.

He should have parked his hovercar right outside his office window, but this was no time for regrets.

He focussed his vision on the one thing that could get him out of here, but not for long.

There were only eight minutes left on the clock.

Jerome skipped the 50-metres like he had never before, and stood in front of his child that had quickly turned nemesis.

With some hesitation, he stepped in and entered the location of his house.

Jerome was finally going to use Jeremy.

***

Jerome’s disappearance never made the news.

For that year, there were more important things to report.

It wasn’t until a few years later when a group of journalists who were prying hard to learn the reason behind the collapse of teleportation finally chanced upon the security footage at Imperysabyl, Jerome’s research company.

One week later, the main headline in the news read:

‘Jerome Parker: The man who birthed and killed teleportation’.

*****