Unnamed Story - Chapter One.

Special Note: Credit goes to Steveo for the development of some of the ideas. Second chapter coming soo.



Chaper One,

An Unwanted Surprise

Written by Monkey







8:23am, 24th March, 1981

London, England.





The rain swept across the streets, slamming upon cars, trash cans and the sea of grey umbrella like bullets upon tin. One such grey umbrella was owned by a twenty-eight-year-old male named Bradley Hawkings. He was not troubled by the rain, for he was used to the cold London drizzle that frequented every so often. His wavy brown hair stuck out at odd angles and a careless grin played across his face, suggesting a playful attitude towards life. A 35mm camera was grasped in his hand, huddled beneath a thick scarf so to protect it from the rain. The building to which he was headed, the large office of The London Sun, was a massive grey structure, decorated with tinted windows and a flagpole, which hung from the enterence, displaying a sad-looking Union Jack. Bradley made his way to the revovling doors and slid to the side, to dodge an incoming water drop that threatened his camera. He then entered into the building, taking a moment to absorb the draft of warm air and the smell of ink. The lobby itself was rather drab, old posters proclaiming the excellence of the British Empire were plastered across the walls along with a combination of framed newspaper articles, colour photos and bullitin boards. In the corner, there was a reception desk and a paper shredder.



The receptionist looked up from her horn-rimmed glasses and greeted him, "Good morning, Mr Hawkings", she said. Bradley returned the greeting with a quick wave and a "Hey" before entering the elevator that would take him to the fourth floor.

When the elevator reached his destination, the doors swung upon and Bradley walked out. Travelling from the lobby to the photojournalist department was kind of like walking from an undertaker's office through to a noisy teenage party fueled by a mixture of alcohol and Red Bull, in other words, the change was mind-boggling. Paper airplanes flew across the cubicles bearing messages and demands for tea while the typewriters spewed out countless documents, a good portion of which would be carelessly left on the floor along with several staplers and pencils. Co-workers milled about in a confused mess while several interns attemped to find the vending machine which had been modified by the techie of the department not to serve any caffinated beverages apart from coffee and tea, for obvious reasons. Bradley pushed his way through the mass of people to reach his cubicle. He sat down in his comfortable chair and placed his beloved camera next to a pile of photos and a pair of scissors. After throwing a wad of duct tape he had found on the floor at a co-worker simply to add to the choas, he began to crop the photos he had token, which were portraying various political figures and their allies.

It was at about noon, after Bradley had finished his work on the photographs, that Mr McTaval, the director of the department, came to Bradley, "Mr Hawkings" said Mr McTaval, tapping him on the shoulder, "I have a story which I need you to cover". Bradley span around on his chair to face Mr McTaval, "The Dimension Hopper, which has been developed by Britan's elite scientists, has been completed." said Mr McTaval blandly. Bradley raised an eyebrow in recognision, the 'Dimension Hopper' had been all over the news and had received non-stop media coverage for around three years during the process of it's development. It was a wonder that Bradley had been chosen to cover it's completion above all others.

"Naturally, we'll need photographs as well as written matiriel" said Mr McTaval, "They've banned cameras from the science facility, so we're sending you in to investigate instead". Bradley reached for his camera abstractly, and straightened his jacket. Mr McTaval checked his watch and shrugged,

"The interview starts in twenty minutes, your looking for the Department of Chronological Research" he said with a shrug, then he disappeared into the mass of busy co-workers.

Bradley sprang up to his feet and snatched his camera and his pencils and bulled his way through his co-workers towards the lift.



Lift doors, shut. 1st Floor, doors open. Feet run through drab lobby, hand push open revovling doors. Cab hailed, door yanked open, jump inside. Cab driver slams pedal, automobile accelerates. No a moment to lose. London rain hammers on roof while tires spin. Destination reached, cab paid. Doors shut.



"Whew" gasped Bradley, and he was two minutes late for the interview. He was greeted by a young scientist who wore curly hair and a dazzled expression. Bradley introduced himself and the young scientist followed suit, and introduced himself as Dr Alfred Button. When they entered the building, Bradley was amazed to see clocks from every timezone covering the walls and ceiling. Dr Button explained that these where placed there during the development of the Dimention Hopper in order to test for any abnormalities in the fabric of time. Piled high on uniformly straight desks were smaller clocks used to measure anything from nanoseconds to years as well as an assortment of documents and folders.

Dr Button explained that the Dimension Hopper used particles known as "tachyons"; particles which travel backwards in what humans preceive as time; to manipulate the space-time fabric. Add in some quantum physics and not only can you use Tachyons to travel backwards in time, but sideways as well. These groundbreaking discoveries literally open up portals for new opportunity. By the time Bradley has heard and digested all that information, he is standing in front of one of three portals. Tall concrete blocks covered in bleeping buttons and switches, they each had a single, metal door which is locked five times over with the most powerful lock encryption program ever developed. Bradley gulped and snapped off a few photos, "May I have a look inside?" asked Bradley, waving at the closet of the three.

Dr Button shrugged, "Sure" he said and opened the door. Bradley stepped inside carefully and took some photos of the interior of the machine. A grin played across Bradley's face as he marveled at the technology which man have dream of for millions of years,

"Fantastic..." he muttered, and his camera whired and clicked as he took another photo.



-Click-



"Errr" said Bradley, not daring to look behind him, for it was not the camera which made that sound. Much too loud.



-Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, buzz-



A drop of sweat dripped off Bradley's hair as he span around,

"Dr Button?" he yells, but his cry is not heard, Dr Alfred Button is not there.



-Bleep, bleep, hummmm...-



"Dr Button!" he is screaming now, fear drenching his body. A green light switchs on, a siren wails. Blue light begins to flood the Dimension Hopper, an onslaught of static electricity fill the room.



-Crackle! Fizz! Hurrmmm.... Buzz!-



A 35mm camera and a pencil drop to the floor.