[Author’s Note: This scene appears early in ‘From the Shadows’, and although it doesn’t feature the main characters, I feel it does provide a nice background and introduction to the Oddness effect.]
News Special at One
| Archive: | Original Broadcast, 3rd June 2016 | | Feed: | News Net Broadcast | Presenter: | Ralph Banning | Content: | Interview with Dr Bob Mekhrim [Archive begins]
“Welcome to the program. I’m Ralph Banning, and today I’ll be talking to Dr Bob Mekhrim about a subject that’s close to all of our hearts,” said the anchorman, beaming into the camera. “It’s one o’clock on Friday the third of June, and frankly none of has any clue what the weather is like outside.
“Probably ninety degrees and snowy,” shouted someone, just audible off camera.
Ralph didn’t miss a beat, for nothing could ruin his composure or the interview today. “You’re probably spot on there,” he said, grinning broadly to his left. “But perhaps our guest would know better? Dr Mekhrim, what’s it like out there?”
The academic looked uneasily into the camera, wondering exactly why he had agreed to do this interview. Well, agreed wasn’t strictly accurate. He’d been stranded in this damned city with everyone else, and the television news was one of the few institutions that were continuing virtually unaffected in their strange new world. Also, he felt a vague, non-specific guilt just from being associated with the ill-fated project. He really had thought that coming onto this show was the right thing to do. What a fool he had been, for he now saw clearly the way this was going to turn out.
“The weather? It seemed quite calm when I came in a few minutes ago,” he said, trying to stave off the imminent attack.
“Come now, Doctor,” pressed Ralph. “You know that’s not what the viewers want to hear. They want to know what you’ve done to the world, and what you are doing to fix it.”
“You must understand, I was only loosely associated with the project,” he said, valiantly trying to steer clear of the blame. “I haven’t even been to the site in over a year, and the consequences of the experiments are as surprising to me as anyone.”
“Really, your hands are clean?” sniggered Ralph. “You had no part whatsoever in these experiments at the Rhone Laboratory? That’s quite odd, as I clearly remember you were the spokesman for the project a mere six weeks ago.”
“No, that’s not true at all!” he shot back. “I was just asked for my opinion on that occasion too. I wasn’t officially representing the project.” He desperately hoped they could get back onto the subject of the science. However nervous he had been of delving into that particular topic whilst waiting for the interview to start, now he sought it as his only refuge.
“And your salary isn’t currently being paid by the very same Rhone Laboratory?” Ralph asked.
“No, yes, but I was seconded away…” he started, but was rudely interrupted by the anchorman.
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Ralph. “Now could you please explain what you were researching in the Rhone Laboratory?”
Mekhrim had to admit defeat and accept some of the blame; it was that or just walk out. He realised that he was no match for this man, not without his own fighting spirit, and that had drained away over the last couple of months. He could have cried at the irony though, to be accused of being a high-flyer in that damned project. If he had been such, it would have instantly removed him from this predicament, and probably meant he had died with the rest of the fools.
“There are many ongoing projects at the Rhone Laboratory,” he said, refusing to consign his former workplace to the past. “The experiment that seems to have caused the problem was investigating the properties of the Von Cramer field. This project was looking at the fundamental interactions that underlie the physical universe we observe. Specifically, they were trying to affect the influence an observer had on these interactions.” He had tried to put it into terms the anchorman could understand, but he belatedly realised that he had completely failed on that front.
Ralph beamed into the camera. “Don’t try and wriggle out of the responsibility for this mess,” he sneered. “It will do you no good to confuse the viewers with facts. In simple terms, you threw a spanner into the works, and then wondered why things broke down. Isn’t that a more accurate way of putting it, Doctor?”
“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Mekhrim rallied. “Professor Von Cramer’s revolutionary theory was that…” but again he was interrupted.
“Doctor, what we really want to know is what exactly have you set loose upon the world, and how do you intend to get it back into its cage?” Ralph said.
Mekhrim sighed. He felt his final resistance crumble, and resigned himself to being carried along in the wake of the anchorman’s ludicrous ego. In what he hoped was a mockingly stereotypical display, he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “In simple terms?” he asked.
“Yes Doctor, kindly put it in a way that we’ll all understand, and without ambiguity,” Ralph replied, putting on what he obviously considered was his best statesmanlike expression.
Mekhrim felt a strange relief pass through his body. In the weeks since he’d first heard of the problems encountered by the experiment near Geneva, he’d never been given the chance to unburden himself. Perhaps here was the real reason he’d agreed to do this awful interview.
“The experiment was investigating how an observer could affect reality, rather than just viewing it. It was devised to be run on a tiny scale, just manipulating the state of individual atoms,” he said, glancing over at the anchorman. He saw the beginnings of a glaze on the man’s eyes, the mouth beginning to form a scathing retort, and hurried on. “We were testing if the observer could consciously affect the state; decide how it was to be, rather than just passively making it collapse into a single predictable and conventional one.” Realising that the anchorman was about to speak, Mekhrim became flustered. “Please, just let me finish! At a later stage of the experiment, there were unexpected feedback effects, and the device creating the Von Cramer field was affected by the observer too.”
“Sorry Doctor, I’m not following you at all. What has this got to do with the monsters roaming our streets?” Ralph asked, his professional bullying for once set aside by genuine interest. “When exactly did this happen, and how could you know this if you weren’t there as you claimed?” Suspicion crept back into the anchorman’s voice.
“I don’t know what happened,” he replied. “The feedback effects were present weeks ago, but they must have continued with the experiments regardless. What on earth could have possessed them to do such a thing?”
“I think that will be our viewer’s sentiment exactly,” Ralph said. “Why precisely did you madmen have to meddle?”
The usually defence of scientific research was on the tip of Mekhrim’s tongue, but he just no longer had it in him. How could he deny the truth in the accusation, for where was the long-term benefit in this terror and chaos? “To answer your first question,” he said, sighing. “The monsters roaming the streets come from our own minds. It appears the experiment reached some kind of critical mass last week, and a Von Cramer field has gradually been expanding across the globe. Two days ago it engulfed this country, and by now it must encompass the world.”
“So the things people are seeing, the strange creatures and structures, are just our imagination?” Ralph said in disbelief. “Come now Doctor, not even you could think we are such children as to believe that fairy tale?”
“No, they have become real,” replied Mekhrim. “A single person can imagine a bogeyman, a congregation can imagine their deity to life.”
“Without getting into a religious debate, Doctor, on behalf of our viewers, I can’t accept your assertion that God doesn’t exist and people are just creating a false facsimile,” said Ralph.
“I don’t know whether God exists or not, but we’re not talking metaphysics,” he replied. “It won’t be an actual god people create, just a savage reflection of their unconscious beliefs. It will be animated by an aberrant physical effect, and not even truly alive.”
The anchorman seemed genuinely surprised by this turn, and Mekhrim had to wonder what the man had thought was behind the chaos.
“Does this physical effect have a name?” Ralph asked in a hushed tone.
“We call it the Oddness effect,” said Mekhrim.
“And how can we stop it?” Ralph asked.
“I don’t believe we can,” he answered. “It has become self-sustaining and grows ever more powerful.
“And where is this Professor Von Cramer who led the project, and whose theories underlie this catastrophe? What is he doing about it?” said Ralph.
“I don’t know. All contact was lost, and the Rhone Laboratory remains inaccessible,” he replied.
“Can’t you just switch off the damned machine?” the anchorman demanded.
“Don’t you think they’ve tried!” he retorted, exasperation creeping into his voice. “I even heard on the grapevine that they’d bombed the place!”
The answering grin on Ralph’s face made clear his approval of that particular course of action. “So what can we do?” the anchorman asked. “Surely if people know what’s causing this, they can guard their thoughts and stop this madness?”
“Did being told the monster in the closet wasn’t real as a child make the wardrobe any less scary in the dark?” he said.
[Archive ends]
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