Experimentation has always been for the benefit of mankind, even if it has not always yielded such fruit. For every smallpox vaccine we create...we get an atomic bomb. For every life we save...another dies, each for the "sake of progress". The case is no different here.
I, Dr. Daniel Hoburn, was part of a government operation, designate: HERMES. I worked on it for over ten years. I worked closely with many esteemed scientists...but none more so than Professor Stoker. The man was smart enough to equate circles around me, and I graduated Harvard at seventeen. Working with him was the highlight of my academic, professional, and personal lives! I would follow him to hell and back.
Ultimately, Stoker, like me, had dreams. Fortunately for us, those dreams seemed to overlap. I wanted to be a successful scientist and invent something meaningful to our species as a whole, and he was just fulfilling a long held desire of his own. He loved the idea of teleportation. The ability to be in one place and then instantly travel somewhere else was an ability he had spent his entire life searching for, and we were on the cusp of it. He told me, "Just the idea of it...being free from the bonds of physics and this world". He sold me on the idea, and I joined his team. That discovery was going to be the pinnacle of our research, and about a year ago...we cracked it.
The science was there, Dr. Stoker put the final equation in, and it all fell together. The energy in the lab was electrifying. All sleep stopped for me after that. Stopped for all of us, actually. How could we sleep? We were so close. It was truly an exhilarating time.
We built his machine, and we did it in less than a month. Working overtime, we barely took any breaks. The future was so close to our grasp. The construction was simple, and we were told the government was giving us all our funding. I knew Stoker was in close contact with some DSA, whatever Department that stands for. It doesn't matter now...it all ended the same.
Once we'd built the machines (four of them, each with their own partner platforms), we ran the first test. The first item to be "teleported" was Dr. Stoker's old desk chair. We placed it on the platform under that cone shaped head, and we backed off. The machine disassembled it molecule by molecule. We watched as energy sparked around it, a weird, reddish energy. All around the chair it sparked and crackled like red lightning; then the chair fell apart like ashes. Each little piece kind of hung in the air, and they all seemed to shrink away into nothingness. Moments after it'd disappeared completely, it reappeared with the same energy. Small pieces appeared and grew, turning from ash back into the form it held before. The chair was put back together, and it maintained all of its structural integrity. We celebrated all through the night.
Experiments continued the very next day...that damned day.
Dr. Stoker never left that room. He did everything next to that machine. All of his work, eating, drinking. Hell, he didn't even leave for a bathroom break. He just kept testing.
First, it was as simple as moving the chair from one platform to the next. That was done easily, and repeated at least one hundred times. No problems. We would try different objects of varying sizes and densities. They all worked. Multiple items at once, moving objects, it all ended the same.
Our only minor problem came when we sent the first rat through. The thing squeaked and squealed as it was taken apart, and when it was put back together it just lay there. It was dead. The professor showed a little discouragement, but I knew what happened. This being my chance to impress him, I drew up a formula...an equation to use the energy to jumpstart the rat's heart back to life after teleportation. Dr. Stoker laughed and embraced me. It was the happiest moment I'd had in those ten long years. I had finally helped that brilliant man.
The next fifty or so tests proved positive. The rats came back, alive and well. The teleporter was working! It was all thanks to me! The Professor made sure to remind me of that every single minute. But, as the day went on I saw a new look on his face. He made longing glances at the platform between tests. We all knew what he wanted to do.
