The Voidbreak Crisis

3. Aperature Failure

"So it's an Einstein-Rosen bridge, right?" Thomas asked, looking over the bizarre circle of copper coils, fiber-optic cables, and cooling compressors. He set the thermos down on the table and set the cups next to it quietly.

"Yes and No, not really." Steve said, furiously typing away on the keyboard and watching the screens past his deeply furrowed brows. Anyone else would've thought he wasn't paying them any attention, but Thomas knew his uncle better than that. While not socially adept, he was a savant when it came to the technological aspects of their venture. He could run full-scale simulations in his head, and had a bad habit of solving his calculus problems in permanent marker on his arms. Thomas was the face and the feet of their operation, running back and forth, gathering grants, attending hosting parties, and assuring everyone his uncle wasn't actually bat-shit insane.

"Einstein-Rosen bridges create wormholes by folding spacetime in half, basically. This does something completely different." Steve muttered. Some days it was harder than others.

"These numbers..." Steve said as Thomas set a mug of coffee next to him.

"Don't you think you should take a break? You've been there for ten hours." Steve said.

"I can sleep when it's dead. I mean I'm done. I mean... You know what I mean." Steve said, sipping the coffee and returning to his computer. He looked down at the mug, and back up at Thomas, his dense mustache twitching once.

"It's decaf, isn't it." He said, almost accusingly. But he still smiled slightly.

"It is. I have to keep your heart from exploding somehow." Steve said, clearing off the desk's growing collection of energy drink cans into a trash can.

"As much as I appreciate your help, Tommy, I can't stop now. These numbers, somethings..." He stopped to stroke his beard.

"Off." He finished.

"The sims aren't running correctly?" Thomas asked.

"No. Nothing is." Steve said, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"Do you think we can manage a proof of concept run?" Steve asked.

"They're still pressing us about that? I told them, we'll know it works, when it works. But no..." Steve muttered, standing up and cracking his neck.

"They won't approve the grant until we can manage a concept run. They won't be as pleased with simulations as the colleges are." Thomas said.

"If they would approve the power we need, we could do it. But no! Gotta have a Fucking CONCEPT RUN!!" Steve shouted suddenly, hurling his coffee against the wall. Steve stood silent.

"I'm sorry. That coffee was really good, too." Steve said, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Thomas had watched his uncle age twenty years in these past few months, each day harder than the last. The colleges, the grant offices, all of them pressing harder and harder for a concept run, or anything besides promises and simulations. But it was killing his uncle.

"Take a break, Uncle Steve. I can run the sims. Go to bed. I'll get you if anything shows up." Thomas said, gently guiding his uncle towards the stairs.

"The sims won't change, Tommy. We need more power." Steve said softly.

"She's still out there, Tommy. I'm so close." He said, taking his glassess off again to wipe his welling tears, and heading towards the stairs slowly.

"We'll find her, Uncle Steve. But you have to sleep. I can't have you passing out in the board meeting tomorrow." Thomas said.

"Fuck them, Tommy. I'll..." Steve paused midway up the stairs.