The Flawed Experiment

The darkening clouds loomed over the Oak Ridge Laboratory as lead scientist of the neutronics department, Dr. Wroth, ran for the entrance hoping to avoid any rainfall. He entered and approached the main facility.

He sat in front of a monitor and rubbed his hands together. I will be famous for this discovery he thought.

One of his colleagues, Dr. Fall, stood over him. “How soon until we make the final adjustments to the device?”

“In mere days. Think of it, Dr, Fall! By using a brand new artificial, concentrated neutron magnifier, we will uncover metaphysical aliens!”

“We still are not sure we will discover anything. It is just highly theoretical thesis. There is a margin for failure.”

“You don’t have the intuition of a skilled scientist who has spent his life on this. I am sure of our discovery.” Dr. wroth looked up at Fall. “Even though it is a little early, let’s do something to celebrate! Let me buy you a drink at the tavern a few miles down the road!”

“But we’re on duty,”

“I’m the boss. It’s on me.”

“Should we be consuming alcohol on the job? It may interfere with concertation.”

“It will just be two beers or so,” said Dr. Wroth.

“I will decline.”

“Bah! I’ll go by myself then. I’ll be back soon.”

Wroth rose and dashed outside to his car and drove to the Tip Top Tavern. He whistled as he drove. At last, he arrived. He got out and walked inside and took a seat at the bar then picked up the drink menu.

“What can I get you, sir?” said the bar tender.

A thought went through Wroth’s mind. It was the warning from Dr. Fall. This was not the first time his conscience had beckoned to him. His mind returned to his AA meetings he had gone to in the past. His recollection of angry, impatient feelings resurfaced. He had not drank in some time and he thought his profound discovery was a reason to indulge.

“I’ll have a Corona Extra.”

When he finished his beverage, he had a taste for something stronger. He looked at the absinthe on the menu. It said it had a 74% alcohol content. Much more than he knew a man working with volatile machinery should have. “I will have half a shot of absinthe.” It was just half of a shot. That should not impair him. He downed the drink and it burned gong down. But it was a tantalizing experience.

Wroth looked at his watch. It was time to go back to the lab. He found himself in a jolly carefree mood. Life was great. And it was a great day. He accidently swerved in front of a person who honked at him.

“Blasted driver! What is wrong with him?”

Wroth parked his car half in the parkin spot and strolled happily to the building entry and down the hall to his lab and sat in front of the large device that would soon make him world famous.

“Hello, Dr, Wroth.”

“Hello, Dr, Fall. Would you help me with some calibrations on the accelerator?”

“But I thought we were done with calibrations. Any further alterations could complicate the dilation process.”

Wroth paused and glanced at Fall. “Ah, that is right. Just keeping you on your toes.” Dr. Wroth sat at his computer monitor and attempted to do some last-minute calculations. Everything seemed to flow easily and make sense. But something in the back of his mind was telling his work was questionable. He quickly dismissed it and went on with his work.

Hours later he jumped to his feet. “I cannot believe it! I have found a way to conduct the final experiment today!”

Dr. Fall was sitting at his own computer and hurried over to Wroth’s monitor. Dr. Fall He looked over the numbers and algorithms and frowned. “I know you are more knowledgeable on the process, but these calculations look very sporadic and a little vague in my opinion.”

“Do not worry, my friend. I have it all leveled out. Let us begin the procedure!”

Wroth was giddy with childish glee as he went to the accelerator’s computer panel. He stumbled somewhat as he approached the panel.

“Are you okay, Doctor?”

“I am fine! Take you station, Dr. Fall.”

Fall went to the other side of the device and awaited orders. “Beginning artificial dispersion of free neutrons.”

The machine hummed as Wroth inputted some commands.

“Dr. are you sure your commands are correct? I am reading some mild instability.”

“Keep going. I have modified the algorithm to speed up the dilation.”

Dr. Wroth had lapses of concentration, that he thought were just stress affects. Suddenly he realized had inputted an error that his colleague saw too.

“Doctor! The acceleration is reaching a nuclear threshold! We must abort!”

“We can’t. I…” Dr. Wroth could not bring himself to focus on the complex math to reverse the process.

“Doctor! Do something!”

An alarm sounded as red lights flashed on the ceiling.

“It is reaching critical status!” said Fall.

Wroth feverishly pressed buttons on the panel and his heart was drumming. “I am trying!”

In three minutes, there would be a nuclear explosion.

“Wroth fought with his sou and will and managed to find a way to make the reaction to cancel itself out. It took him three times as much focus on this normally easy process. He fought of the latent affects of the absinthe. Seconds before, the nuclear reaction commenced, he found a way to bypass the computer’s base commands and stop the last igniting neutron dispersion.

Suddenly, the alarm went off and the lights stopped flashing.

Wroth sat back, still feeling drowsy from the alcohol.

“What did you do Dr, Wroth! You could have taken out all of Tennessee!”

“I…I am sorry.”

Dr Fall stormed out of the lab.

Wroth knew this was the end of his career. And rightly so. Dr Wroth covered his face. “I’ll never drink again.”