The White Singularity: A Choose Your Own Adventure

Chapter 5. A Joyful Complication

You don't know it then, but that short delay makes a huge difference in your trip.

A few days later, you're in your office, dividing your concentration between two windows on your laptop that contain everything you can find about your possible destinations, when you hear a tap on your door. After a moment, Zell enters. There's a weird expression on her face, both happy and sad. Her cheeks are shiny, and her eyes are red and puffed as if she's been crying. She's holding something behind her back.

"Hi, hon," she says. "We need to talk."

"Sure, darling," you say, hustling her to your chair. Her distraught appearance alarms you so much that you call your secretary and ask for a cup of strong coffee. You turn on the air conditioning, rummage through your bag for the gigantic bag of sour cream potato chips you had meant to give her anyway and turn on some soothing classical music. 

By the time she's sipping hot peppermint mocha and eating her favorite junk food, Zell seems much more composed. 

You sit on the table in front of her. "Better?"

"Much." She smiles appreciatively and puts down the mug. "Thanks so much. You're so considerate."

"Well, you looked like you were about to fall apart." You search her face. "Ready to talk now?"

"Yes, ready. You better get ready, too."

You brace yourself, hoping you won't start falling apart at her news, too.

"There's some bad, good, and wonderful news," she says. "Take your pick."

You exhale cautiously. "That's reassuring. Two good and only one bad. I'll take the bad news first."

She shrugs resignedly. "I'm not coming with you on the White Singularity's maiden voyage."

You're flabbergasted. "What? Why not?"

"The good news," she continues over your exclamations, "is that you can go straight to the Core if you want—you and NESCA. However, I want to modify the safety specifications of the Singularity. We'll double and triple her onboard systems until she's a study in redundancy. I'll ensure she can bring you back to me even with half of her components knocked out!"

"Well, that's good, I guess," you mutter. You can't concentrate on the Core now, not with your wife's surprising declaration that she won't be coming with you to enjoy it anyway. Then you realize that she still hasn't told you why. 

You frown. "What's the wonderful news?" you ask.

Without a word, she hands you the tiny piece of pink plastic she's been holding behind her back. It's rectangular, with a well on one side and a window on the other. The window shows two parallel lines.

It takes you several seconds to recognize it, much less understand what it means. When you do, you're so stunned that you almost fall off the table. Suddenly, her strange behavior for the past few weeks makes sense: the inexplicable dizzy spells, the craving for food she had never liked, and the intractable vomiting in the mornings.

"Oh. My. Goodness." The fingers holding the piece of plastic start to tremble. "Does this mean what I—"

Zell shrugs, her smile luminous. "Our prayers have been answered."

You yell in delight, throwing the plastic in the air and picking up your wife. She laughs as you start whirling her around the room. 

Your secretary pokes her head inside the room to ask about the commotion, then spots the piece of plastic lying forgotten on the floor. She grins and gives you a double thumbs-up sign. You laugh, resigned that your wallet will take a beating tonight. In an hour, the entire building will know your news. Within the day, the media will be alerted as well. Knowing your friends, they'll be asking for some serious celebrations.

"Stop, stop. Do you want me to throw up again? I've already done enough of that today." Zell pinches your arm, and you reluctantly deposit her back on the chair. You plant yourself on the desk in front of her, afire with inane questions that would make any passerby wonder if you're actually a world-renowned scientist. "Is it a boy or a girl? How big is it now? When's the expected date of delivery? Have you thought of a name yet?"

"Wait, you're not thinking straight! The embryo is too young for us to know the gender. Right now, it's just a ball of cells."

"Oh, right." You can't stop grinning like an idiot. "This is fantastic. We have a lot of preparation to do. We have to turn the spare bedroom into a nursery, then we're going to shop for baby things, and then we have to look for a good school—"

"You're getting that glassy-eyed look again, "Zell warns, jolting you back into reality before you forget her presence entirely. "Aren't you forgetting one crucial thing?"

"What's that?" You ask, confused. All you can think about is a bouncing, healthy baby; you don't even care if it's a boy or a girl.

"The maiden mission of the White Singularity, silly." She sighs as you bolt upright. You've completely forgotten about it in the wake of the latest news.

"If you want, you can go straight to the Core. With NESCA."

"Can't we just wait until after you give birth?"

"If you don't go now, the committee will never finance you again," she says seriously. "So we can't put it off even for this. We have to talk to them today."

Drat, you think. She's right.  

"But if you're willing to explore the Mariana Trench first, I can go with you. I think it would be safe enough."

Zell takes your hand. "It's your choice. I'll go along with whatever you want. But you have to make your decision soon. In the meantime..."  She jumps to her feet and hauls you to yours. "We have to escape before our friends find us and demand a party."

"You've got a point." You follow her out of your office, where cheers immediately greet you. You blink, then chuckle. Too late. A dozen of your colleagues have already gathered in a nearby conference room with several bottles of wine, boxes of pizza, and buckets of fried chicken. Your secretary has been busy. 

They tug both of you inside, immediately drawing you into several toasts. Zell, immune from this duty because of her condition, gives you a look that means she'll drive the two of you home tonight. You don't argue. You don't hold your liquor well at all, and you might just drive the car into a ditch. 

The impromptu celebration lasts well into the night, so it's good that the committee members arrive. You're too dizzy to say anything sensible, so your wife does the sweet-talking for you. Just before it all ends, she looks at you from across the room and gives you a thumbs-up sign.

You're good to go. Now the only choice left is: where do you want to go, to the Mariana Trench or straight to the Core?

This story has multiple arcs. The next chapters will follow your trip to the Mariana Trench. Upon reaching the end, you can continue reading to find out what happens if you journey to the Core.