“I’ll have you know I watch plenty of survivalist shows,” I shot back, “and I’m okay with a gun. Not as good as you, of course, but I’ve definitely taken down a few stationary targets in my time.”
“My voice analyzers are indicating he is mocking us,” Dr. Nash announced.
“Not mocking.” I shrugged. “I’m just having a hard time figuring out why I should believe you in the first place.”
“You’re speaking to a computer screen in real time, and it is answering you back with the cognitive function of a human,” the glowing face explained. “Do you really believe what we’ve told you isn’t possible?”
“Fine,” I conceded, “let’s say I do believe you. Am I just going to be going into this mission blind and then wander around until I miraculously stumble across a solution?”
“Not at all,” Dr. Nash scoffed. “My A.I. has calculated the Doomsday scenarios of all of the identified timelines, and has also indicated what needs to be done to save humanity in each one. However, how you accomplish that particular task will be left completely up to you.”
“You’ll go into the timelines, complete the task my father has assigned to you, and then return to us with any information you have gathered,” Karla added. “Also, if you happen to come across a Wayfarer, try to convince them to come back with you.”
“Righttttt.” I was now trying not to laugh. “If I happen to stumble across this one-in-seven-billion special person, I’ll try to bring ‘em back.”
“You laugh, but stranger things have happened,” Karla warned. “The two-way arrow theory works in mysterious ways. In fact, the future may be influenced just by the two of us sitting here and having this conversation right now.”
Uff-dah. This was getting to be too much.
“Okay, Doc.” I turned to the face on the screen. “Hit me with your first Doomsday timeline. I want to see what kinda world-saving tasks little ‘ol me is gonna have to complete.”
The computer went silent for a moment before a bunch of binary code flashed across the screen in a horizontal pattern. Finally, after a few seconds of calculations, Dr. Nash’s disembodied head reappeared.
“There,” he mused, “this one might be a good fit for your first mission. Dimension Nine-Fifty-One… or, as I like to call it, ‘The Nuclear Pandemic.’”
“A nuclear pandemic?” I rolled my eyes. “So you mean a nuclear bomb or something mutated a virus and caused everyone to turn into a zombie or something?”
“Why… yes,” the computer-man replied as his eyes opened with shock. “See? You are the Wayfarer. You already understood—”
“I just watch a lot of TV, read a bunch of books, and play a lot of video games.” I scoffed. “You’re really dialing things up to eleven right off the bat, aren’t you?”
I waited for somebody to catch the reference, but all I got were blank stares.
“I don’t get it,” Karla admitted.
“You know, like Spinal Tap?” I prompted. “Don’t tell me neither of you have seen Spinal Tap?”
“Sounds painful.” Karla shrugged.
“Back on subject,” Dr. Nash sighed. “Dimension Nine-Fifty-One is a dimension where Doomsday has already occurred via the form of a nuclear holocaust all across the world. However, it doesn’t stop there… The radiation caused all known viruses to mutate, including one that affected the human brain and caused thousands of people to go insane.”
“Yeahhhhh.” I whistled. “No thanks. I’m glad we’re not in that dimension.”
“You soon will be, though,” Dr. Nash reminded me. “My algorithms suggest that, if all of the crazed humans in the greater Chicago area are destroyed, it will cause a rift in that dimension’s timeline and will thus save the human race from total extinction.”
“And if I just so happen to run into the Wayfarer, I’ll bring them back.” I nodded with amusement.
“Precisely!” Dr. Nash exclaimed. “You’re starting to understand what we’re getting at. If we start right now, we can have you in Dimension Nine-Fifty-One in a little over an hour.”
Another hour of this crap? This was where I reached my limit.
I stood up and threw out my hands to the side.
“Look, guys,” I announced, “it’s been fun, but I’m tired of this… prank? Acting exercise? I don’t care. This is dumb, and I have to get back to work. I’m going to head out now. If you promise not to shoot me in the back, I won’t call the cops on you.”
“You’re going to leave?” Karla scoffed. “My father just revealed things to you that should have turned your entire world upside down, and you want to dash out of here without giving it a second thought?”
“Oh, I’ve given it many thoughts,” I retorted. “I don’t know what world you guys are living in, but I don’t want to live there. I’ll just stick with my technician job, thank you very much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some leftover Chinese back at my apartment that’s calling my name.”
I began to walk toward the staircase, but Karla wasn’t done yet.
“That’s it?” she continued. “You’re just going to walk out of here, back to your crummy apartment and your simple life, and pretend like none of this ever happened?”
“I’m pretty sure this is a prank,” I sighed.
“Oh, my god! It’s not a prank!” the beautiful brunette screeched. “We need your help to save the world! Not just this world, all the worlds. Don’t you have any honor or work ethic or—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” I snorted, “and when I get back to my van, I’m gonna tell my boss not to let any other Bugslayer employees anywhere near this house ever again. And, also, I love my life as it is right now. Even if you are telling the truth, and I am this ‘Wayfarer’ person, which again, I seriously fucking doubt, why would I give up a good thing and risk my life to save a bunch of people I’ll never even know?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Karla grumbled.
“That may be true,” I agreed, “but I’m not good to anybody if I’m dead.”
“You have far too little faith in yourself, Hunter,” Dr. Nash reassured me. “You said it yourself that you have basic survivalist skills. On missions like these, you don’t need much more than that, plus a little bit of ingenuity.”
“The answer’s still no,” I repeated. “Goodbye, Dr. Nash.”
I turned to head back to the exit, but I only got to the first staircase before the robotic voice called out once more.
“Wait!” he exclaimed. “We can pay you. Handsomely.”
I froze in place.
This dude’s mansion must have been worth at least a few million dollars. He might have been batshit crazy, but he definitely wasn’t a slouch when it came to finances.
I rotated around to face the Nashes, crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned back against the wall.
“How much are we talking here?” I asked.
“For a mission like this?” the face on the screen pondered. “My systems are telling me that, based on an average salaries of Pest Control Technicians in Minneapolis, you would accept something around your yearly salary of forty thousand a year. But, because I want to show you we are serious, I will offer you a quarter million.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue. My heart started to flutter so rapidly it threatened to bust through my sternum and out through my chest, and my legs suddenly felt weak.
A quarter of a million dollars?
I could finally pay off all of my debt, and even the debt from all my mother’s medical bills. I could move out of the crappy apartment I called home and get a place of my own where I wouldn’t have to deal with landlords or quiet times or any of that nonsense.