Fluctuations

by Gareth Jones

The short man strode slowly uphill into the valley, his height affording him an advance view of the countryside over the hedges that lined the paved road. A black backpack swung easily at his shoulder and his worn, but comfortable boots squelched through the mud, splashing water that left stains on his shiny new footwear. The road wound in a straight line to the gate of the large village.

There was nothing to delineate the border between countryside and city, save the noise of urban dwelling: children playing, vendors shouting, passersby chatting, the occasional dog yapping. The man walked through the deserted streets, sticking to the main thoroughfare, glancing nervously down the side streets and now hugging the black backpack protectively as he wandered through the back alleys.

The wind moaned eerily through empty window frames, and caused loose gates to creak, making the woman’s gaze dart round worriedly. A strange smell of decay hung heavily on the still air, reminding her that no-one had lived here since the last inhabitants had departed.

After leaving the town behind, with a touch of regret for parting from such friendly people, the woman hitched the black backpack into a more comfortable position and strode off once more at her customary steady gait that he had developed during his long walk. Cows gazed at him curiously from the surrounding fields. The warmer weather meant that it would soon be time for them to be shorn, producing the good quality wool that the sheep in this area were well known for. The sun was on its way down to the horizon, so he began to think about looking for shelter for the night.

A fairly solid-looking barn came into view as dusk approached, made of old oak beams and thatched in a traditional style. The door was unbarred and swung open silently, creaking loudly again as it swung shut. The inside was full of straw bales, an ideal place to settle down for the night. The black backpack was lowered gratefully from weary shoulders and the traveller made himself comfortable among the hay.

The leftovers from lunchtime were not very filling, and there was only warm water from his hip flask to wash it down, but he was nonetheless contented enough as he lay down and looked up at the darkening sky through the gaps in the roof where slates were missing. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he really should keep going, but weariness overcame him. It was not long before she dozed off.

A cock crowing in the early morning sunlight that streamed in through the crumbling side wall brought the man to instant wakefulness. Instinctively he checked to make sure that the black backpack and its precious contents were still intact. Nothing had disturbed them. He stretched and yawned and brushed off his clothes, then headed outside to gaze up the road. Not far to go now.

A couple of hours later, stomach rumbling and black backpack already digging into his shoulders, he spotted the ancient well that was her destination. The last few hundred yards were tough going through the muddy field that clung at his boots, the blazing sun that had baked the ground hard making him squint so it was difficult to make out the red brick shape of the well. The backpack was feeling heavier as she came closer to the old grey well, as the heat / cold made him feel tired / irritated / refreshed and the soft / grassy / snow-covered earth continued to impede / assist his / her progress.

A large black crow’s harsh cry made him look / he ignored it as she tried to concentrate on her goal of reaching the grey / brown figure of the squat / tall well that was the cause of all the sunshine falling upon tired shoulders, and crows flew so nicely it was good to be able to take off the black backpack and set it down against the solid wall of the well.

She unbuckled the backpack and reached inside to grasp the dull grey object that was nestled inside. As she touched it there was a sickening lurch as something altered her focus. Adelle paused to catch her breath as her mind settled down to normality and she could suddenly remember who she was and what she was doing.

They really had gone too far this time she thought, looking up at the sky that changed from dull to bright to cloudy to sunny. Experiments with subatomic particles and the quantum foam itself had gone horribly wrong when the scientists at the European Hadron Laboratory had created a tear in the very fabric of reality. Perception and existence were being tossed like helpless fishing boats on quantised waves of increasing magnitude that spread further and faster from their centre at this innocuous-looking well in the heart of rural eastern Europe.

The locals rarely had cars or televisions, never mind an understanding of the physics that was turning their world inside out. At least for those caught up in the disturbances, everything seemed normal. It was only from outside that the chaos was visible. Adelle shuddered as she remembered that for a while she had been a man.

The backpack turned blue and then green as she lifted the quantum arrestor clear and checked its status lights. The device itself and anything in direct contact with it, was protected from the chaos by a reality bubble. The range was not great, but it was the best they could do in the short time available. No vehicle or equipment that they had tried to send in had lasted long before changing into something unhelpful.

Only a deep hypnotic compulsion had ensured that she continued with her mission despite everything else that changed. Around her the ground flickered from muddy to stony to grassy; snow appeared and disappeared; the well continued to cycle through an array of building materials. She stood and kicked aside the burlap sack that lay at her feet.

The LCD on the side of the arrestor was registering huge peaks in wave force, and the locator indicated that this was the correct position. Adelle flipped open the shockproof cover on the side and pressed the single initiation button. It had been decided to keep things as simple as possible under the circumstances. She leaned now heavily against the well for support against the waves of vertigo that the surrounding chaos was inducing.

The final status light turned green, and she pushed the quantum arrestor over the edge and into the mouth of the well. There was splash and then another nauseating twisting sensation as the rent in the quantum foam was suddenly knitted back together and a wave of smoothness emanated out simultaneously in all dimensions. A shock wave of coalescing normality swept away from the well in every visible direction, halting the wild fluctuations of existence.

Adelle stood and looked around, her stomach still complaining at the treatment it had received. A crow flew slowly away from her towards some nearby trees. She bent gingerly and picked up the brown backpack that had accompanied her throughout. Everything was back to normal.