Chapter 1: Arrival

Location : Melbourne, Australia
Era : Friday, 23 June 2017 CE

The first indication something strange had happened was the unusual track in the bubble chamber. It was far more prominent than the others. Mark went looking for the digital SLR camera to record it.

Mark rummaged through the litter and tools his fellow post-grad Bill had left on the bench. He made a mental note to have a word with him. There were potato chip packets and empty soda cans scattered across the work area. Mark sniffed the cans. The cans smelled like they had been spiked with alcohol.

He sniffed the cans again. Scotch, definitely Scotch!

Mark really needed to talk to Bill. If the Professor saw this mess, he would not care who was responsible. They would both be in trouble!

He spotted the camera in amongst the debris and fished it out. He half-filled the camera’s memory card with snaps of the chamber, focusing on the weird track.

The bubble chamber was old school; hardly anyone used them anymore especially for detecting cosmic rays. The magnetic traps installed around the chamber were new, but even they were just variations on an old idea. Mark and Bill had been collecting data with this museum piece for months at the behest of Prof. Holland. The Professor was cagey about why he wanted the data. Maybe it was for his History of Physics course?

The unusual track terminated inside one of the new magnetic traps. Mark knew a particle heavy enough to make that track would decay almost instantaneously, but the curvature passing through the trap would reveal a lot about its properties. It never occurred to him that the unknown particle could still be inside the trap.

Mark hung the camera around his neck and retrieved a screwdriver from its bracket. At least that was in the right place. He moved around to the back of the chamber to access the trap then everything seemed to happen at once. His inner ear and his eyes started disagreeing about which direction was down. His foot came down on something wet and slippery. The metal blade of the screwdriver hit something solid. There was a spark and the smell of burning plastic. Then there was a pain in his ears and something shoved him hard in the small of the back. He slammed into the back plane of the chamber and his right cheek and his right wrist exploded in pain. Then he was falling though white powder and broken glass.

Things became very confusing for a while.

He had surreal memory of someone with purple dyed skin, novelty lenses, and a cosplay costume helping him along a war-torn street. A gritty, grey powder was falling from the sky. There was ringing in his ears. The purple guy was looking at him and moving his mouth, but he could not hear. He could not even collect his wits enough to try communicating through gestures or lip reading. It was just too hard to think.

Buildings looked like a first year architectural student’s idea of avant-garde design. There was steel and glass tinted in unlikely colors. Fuzzy colorful shapes he could not focus on milled about in the confusion. He could not put any weight on his right foot and had to lean on the purple guy. His right lower arm was bent at an unnatural angle. Everything dissolved into dizzy confusion and he was falling again.

When he came to, he was naked on some sort of padded table. Someone had washed him but they had not done a good job. There was still grit on his lower legs, left arm and all though his hair. There was something weird about the walls and the furniture in the room too. It was like being in the middle of an impressionist painting! He had trouble focusing his eyes on the walls, as spots making up the mural seemed to project off the surface, and float in midair a few feet from his eyes. His stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. It felt like an iron spike was being driven through his head as he struggled to make any sense of this impossible image.

He saw there were three people in the room, two females and a male. He tried to focus on them. At least they were normal 3D objects, although they looked like they belonged at a comic book convention. Maybe models at a comic book convention as they were all extremely good looking. They were arguing in some incomprehensible language.

Two of them seemed to be wearing matching, if bizarre, uniforms. He guessed that they were some kind of medical professionals, as they each had something which vaguely resembled a stethoscope-hanging around their necks. The male medic was holding his stethoscope out in front of him like a holy symbol, as if it would protect him from the anger of the loudest member of the trio.

The imposing figure giving them grief was a tall, skinny, light-skinned, blond female ... elf? She wore nothing but snowflake tattoos, a green strip of cloth that might be called a skirt, if one were generous, and a matching green carry bag. She turned toward him and a look of concern passed over her face. Then she barked an order at the medics.

The male medic, who was the strangest looking of the bunch, made a quick gesture on the bench they were standing near. The decor returned to a semblance of normalcy with the patterns on the furniture and walls at least staying put on their proper surfaces, instead of leaping out at him.

The timid looking man’s skin was bright yellow and his eyes were larger than normal. His hair was white bristles. He was wearing a green kilt. Except for the color it was identical to the skirt his female colleague was wearing. His top, if you could call it that, had long sleeves, shoulders, a collar, and not much else. It displayed his impressive yellow chest and abs.

His female colleague tried to mediate between the angry elf and the fearful yellow ... goblin? She was shorter than the others with pale skin and black hair. Her blue uniform included the same ridiculous looking torso-less top as her partner. In addition she had a blue lace bra that mostly covered her breasts and perched on her head, was a ridiculous paper origami boat that made him think of a nurse. Upsetting the elf, seemed the last thing the goblin wanted to do. He cringed very time he shook his head at one of her demands, making warding gestures with his hands.

Finally the elf tossed a few plastic rectangles onto the bench. From the reaction of the medics it was money - a lot of money. They became much more receptive to the elf’s suggestions. The elf barked orders while the nurse collected equipment and the goblin pocketed the money.

Mark had finally collected enough of his wits to attempt to communicate. “Um, hello? Could I have some pethidine or something stronger, and a blanket? I am cold and in pain, and I am hanging out here for everyone to see ... and, Aaah, do any of you speak English?”

The elf showed some interest in his words. A needle appeared in her hand and was sticking out of his arm before he knew it with barely a sting. Actually if he had not seen it go in he would not have noticed. He noted with interest that the needle did not have a plunger and was injecting itself like a bee sting. The nurse did not seem happy about the needle. She held a different needle -- this one with a plunger and a cap on the business end in front of the elf. She seemed to be saying, that the doctor should have used the other one.

Where did the elf get that needle anyway!? It is not as if she had anywhere to hide it. He had thought she was a patient or a managerial type however now she seemed to be acting like a doctor, although the two ‘nurses’ did not seem to like the situation at all.

Relief flooded Marks body. “Oooh! That’s what I’m talk - AAAARH!”

The elf had set his arm while the goblin held him down and the nurse applied the splint. The splint tightened around his forearm, then stiffened, holding his forearm immobilized. A little later his arm became numb.

When he could talk again Mark groaned, “Would it have killed you to wait until the painkiller kicked all the way in?”

Mark studied the elf who dominated the room. She was in complete charge of the situation, full of purpose and determination, never hesitating or displaying second thoughts. The nurses obeyed with little argument despite showing horror and dismay at what she was doing. There was a sadness that haunted her eyes but she seemed to cheer up and soften when she looked at him with kindness and sympathy that transformed her features. Something about her seriousness; her intensity, brought things home to Mark.

‘It was time you faced facts, ‘ thought Mark. ‘Something big has happened to you’

The whole ‘there is a comic convention he did not know about and these people are in cosplay’ theory was more wishful thinking than something he actually believed in. The ‘it’s a practical joke and there are hidden cameras’ theory seemed overly optimistic at this point. He had trouble accepting the ‘he has been abducted by aliens’ theory. There always the ‘he has fallen into a parallel dimension’ theory however at least the alien theory had the advantage that outer space was real. He was not so sure about parallel dimensions.

The nurse placed a boot on his sprained foot that tightened around, and immobilized it like a splint. The elf leaned over him, and did something to his cheek that stung. Her skin felt like fire to his chilled flesh.

Mark became very aware of her near naked closeness. Her skin had a floral Jasmine smell, and her hair felt soft as it brushed his chest. As she moved closer, he was able get a good look at her pointed ears. They looked real, and natural. She was lean, athletic, and judging by how she had man-handled (woman-handled? elf-handled?) him, was extremely strong.

She grimaced and hesitated for the first time. She gave him a look of apology. He was startled when she uttered the first words, he could understand, since arriving in this place. “You need rest, but...” she said.

“Rest would be good, and a blanket even better. Is there any chance I could get a blanket here?”

“You cannot rest now. No time. Here danger!” The elf seemed to struggle with the words.

“Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“Police come. Danger!” said the elf with some urgency.

“Why would - No. First tell me where I am.”

“Place Oceania, city Melbourne.”

“This does not look like Melbourne to me.”

Again she hesitated, before seeming to come to a decision. She pulled his wallet from her carry bag. Opening it she tapped his driver’s license. “What year are you from?”

“Really! You are going there?” Time travel had not even been on his list, however it was not any more ridiculous than his other theories. “You DO know that it is considered impolite to take someone’s belongings without permission. Where is my other stuff? I am pretty sure I arrived with a full set of clothes.”