Chapter 2: The fall
With every step, the scientist could feel his destiny come closer and closer. His goal was inches away from him. He'd been chasing it like a cat chases a dot on the ground. Nobody believed he'd get it, but they didn't know. If someone told Ethan something was impossible, he'd do whatever it took to prove them wrong.
He approached the wide white doors to his lab. The door was unlocked. On the other side, he could hear people's feet shuffling about. What on earth were they up to in his lab? He barged through the door. His heart sank. His brows furrowed and rage sparked within him.
"What in Newton's name are you doing to my lab?" he said, marching up to a man carrying away his microscope in a box.
"Sorry, sir. Boss's orders. He told me he wanted to speak with you when you popped in. He's in the testing center."
"About what?" asked Ethan.
"Didn't say, he said it's none of my business."
Max better not be on my case about some stupid errand I didn't run for him, he thought.
Silently, he turned towards the hallway and marched as quickly as he could to the testing center. "And don't hold the microscope like that! It's fragile!" he yelled at the man on the way out.
The walk was long. The main hallway was longer. It was as if it was purposefully designed to make Ethan burn his fair share of calories walking to and from the lab.
Ethan ascended a spiral staircase made from aluminum. It led him to the upper floor of the lab which had a bridge spanning over the street below him to where he wanted to be. This facility, in particular, was a wind tunnel. A fat figure, round as a football, stood in front of the control panel. His eyes were sunken in from exhaustion, but his gaze was dominating. Max, Ethan's boss, was a ruthless businessman.
"What the hell are you doing?" the scientist demanded. "I was about to complete my admin work today."
"You haven't been working on what I asked you to work on. You've been handling your own little side project which I wrongly gave you the liberty of pursuing. It has consumed your life and driven you to extremes I would have never expected from a man like you. I've had quite enough."
"Extremes like what?" prodded Ethan hoping Max had not found the Secronium he smuggled.
Max placed a sphere of metal onto the table the size of a baseball. Ethan shifted his gaze between Max and the sphere. "This kind of extreme."
"I know this looks bad," began Ethan.
"Bad? This is more than just bad," Max whispered as if afraid someone may hear them. "This is illegal radioactive material on my business property. If anyone found out about this, I'd have one massive ugly spot on the firm's reputation. The only choice I have is to fire and blacklist you."
"That won't happen, trust me. You're overreacting," Ethan assured him.
"Are you really asking me to continue to knowingly allow something illegal?" Max laughed in disbelief. "You're fired, Ethan. It's this or I report you to the police who will then throw you in prison for ten years at least."
"So what?" Ethan asked shrugging his shoulders. "I broke a law and smuggled some stuff here. But this device is going to change the entire world and I'm on the cusp of completing it.
"See that? Right there," he said pointing an accusatory finger at Ethan. "This side project, whatever it is, has driven you crazy. It's all just about that one stupid device. You don't care how you get it, do you?"
Because that's all that matters Ethan wanted to say. Who the hell obeys the law anyway?
"Bu-"
"Please Ethan," Max interrupted, placing his hands over his forehead. "Just walk away. You've been here for a while so the severance pay will be good too. You should be behind bars by now, but I am letting you go."
Ethan remained silent. Max was doing him a favor by not turning him in. At least he wouldn't go to prison. With one conversation, the best day of his life became the worst. He had been robbed of his destiny and with being blacklisted for malpractice, the chances of getting another job in the same industry would be near impossible.
Trying to remain as professional as he could, Ethan extended a hand forcing the widest smile he could manage. Max returned the gesture.
"Ethan," Max called. "Every inventor thinks his invention will change the world yet very few actually do. Keep that in mind."
Ethan responded with a half-hearted 'thanks' before shutting the door behind him. He bottled up all the emotions he felt directly after his conversation. The anger, hopelessness, despair, and fear he felt locked away in the back of his mind. However, he didn't know how long he would be able to keep it in, so he left his lab without uttering a word and rushed to his apartment.
After unlocking the door, he flung it open so quickly that it rebounded off the adjacent wall and slammed shut behind him. He threw his backpack on the couch in the corner of the living room and stormed into his bedroom.
The scientist pulled up his laptop and searched for the equipment he needed. Perhaps if he spent his savings, he could afford the parts he needed to reconstruct his device. He scrolled through the internet, his eyes darting from left to right desperately trying to find a kernel of hope.
Secronium synthesizer, come on… There has to be another one out there, he presumed.
But every search showed only one in existence. The prototype he optimized was no longer his. Without the synthesizer, I can't finish the design, he thought. Maybe the belt has a synthesizer I can use.
There it was. The synthesizer he'd been looking for was being used by the illegal miners on the asteroid belt. The asteroid belt was once a prosperous mining endeavor that provided unique ores not found on earth. After the war, however, these ores had been outlawed and the belt became a breeding ground for smugglers.
He closed his laptop, collapsed on his white bed, arms spread out, and stared at the ceiling. There is no way in hell I am buying a synthesizer from them. I'd have to donate both my kidneys.
Ethan ran his hands through his long hair, gripping it. His fingers sunk until his nails reached his scalp.
"Fuck this!" he yelled at the ceiling. His booming voice echoed through the one-bedroom apartment making the wall reverberate.
He turned his head to look at his bedside table. Atop the rickety table lay a frame with a picture of Ethan and his mother at the Victoria Falls. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat upright. He gently picked up the frame. Waking up to that image reminded him every day of why he lived but now it would only be a reminder of how he failed, his final chance slipping through his fingers like running water.
With one swing of his arm, he released all the pent-up emotion throwing the frame into the wall opposite him. The glass shattered into hundreds of pieces and the wooden frame snapped, only the photo remaining.
He slid off the bed and collapsed to the floor, his knees pressed up against his chin. He put his head in his hands. His heart raced out of fear. For the first time in ten years, he had no purpose in life.
He gritted his teeth as he gripped his head even harder, his muscles suddenly stiffening like a tightened cable. Every hour spent, every drop of ink inked, every penny spent was for nothing. A fruitless endeavor that consumed a decade of his life.
Ethan's pocket vibrated. He pulled his link out and glanced at the caller ID which read 'belt contact.' He slowly picked up the call and drew his link near to his face.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Hey, I'm on my way to the space station."
"Don't bring the Secronium. I don't need it anymore," Ethan said.
"W-w-what?" he stuttered. "But you paid me already."
Ethan looked at the photo of his mother crumpled on the floor. I can still get that synthesizer, he thought.
"Will what I paid you be enough to purchase a Secronium synthesizer?" asked Ethan.
The man let out a sarcastic laugh, "seriously? Hell no. Not even close."
"Is it enough to steal it?" Ethan blurted out.
What the hell is wrong with you? Ethan rebuked himself.
"What?" the man asked.
He wasn't sure if that response was from a sense of disbelief or confusion.
"Nothing," Ethan replied. "Keep the money. It's over. We're done."
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