The Scientific Journal of International Science Volume VI Issue I | Page 14

“Sir, we’ve got too much temporal flux. I can’t control the ship.” Henry interrupted “Didn’t you put in a capacitor to manage this sort of thing?”

“Yes,” I said my voice weak with dawning realisation “but Holly here has just unplugged it.”

Then reality reasserted itself on our ship with a jolt. I heard the superstructure creak under the strain but fortunately we received no more damage. I lifted my head to look out the window and to my dismay saw the vast expanse of empty space. A few shining stars broke up the dull monotony of the black emptiness. My eyes, however, were drawn to something floating close by. It turned out to be the frozen body of the young officer who still clutched at the waffle iron and sparking capacitor.

As we watched his final graceful flight, a large sphere of rock drifted serenely by. Suddenly it exploded sending chunks of material in all directions. Henry paled as he stared deeply into the monitor.

“Sir, it’s good you’re seated, you’re not going to like this,” he stammered “That was a proto-planet and we may have been the cause of its demise.”

“What are you saying?” I demanded.

“It was impacted by a large cuboid, metal object from our galley. It was the SJIS soda machine.”

“Damn! The supreme editor-in-chief is not going to like this one bit.”

“I don’t think he’ll be around to be angry, sir.” Henry faltered “According to my data that proto-planet would have been Earth.”

“OH SHIIIIII!!!”

Part 3

The series of events that had caused me to spiral into depression seemed utterly insoluble. I sat in my office and stared out of the window at the deep expanse of nothingness that is space. My mind often wandered as I realised even the vacuum of space wasn’t empty but filled with particles and junk. I breathed a great sigh and set myself to putting all blame on my intolerable secretary Holly. It was easy to blame her as she was a thoroughly unpleasant individual who would stop at nothing to irritate all who were around her, which made me blame her all the more. Such focus eased my melancholy a little but still I brooded within my office as all felt hopeless.

I decided to tidy up a little to distract myself. I looked around the office and realised that the remains of Mr Vanderbob still littered one of my chairs and a rare, print edition, of the first ever SJIS was laying beside my bookcase covered in pig drool. Fortunately Mr Vanderbob had left the dustpan and brush in the present so I could use it to sweep up his remains. After contact with its past-self, the dust glistened with multi-coloured light. I figured this paradox powder might come in handy at a later date so I put it in my inventory, alongside the handful of pennies and the slice of brie I’d been paid with as well as my lucky katana, which I always had to hand. While I was at it I decided I may as well put the chewed SJIS journal in my inventory as well.

I was interrupted from my reverie by a sharp rapping at my door. Henry strode into my room, his face aglow with excitement.

“We’ve done it!” he said.

“What?” I grumbled.

“We’re using the tractor beam you invented to bring the chunks of Earth back together. It seems to be stabilising. Come to the bridge and see for yourself.”