Project Eden
The corner of Cisca's mouth lifts.
"I was wondering when you'd ask," she says.
Her glasses glimmer in the now dimly-lit cabin as she once again begins to fidget with her phone.
"There have been many advancements," Cisca says without taking her eyes off her phone, "First of all, the quantum connection has been established. The portal is now ready to be opened."
As expected from the genius who received her first MIT Ph.D. degree at age 15. Cisca accomplished what top Stanford researchers couldn't in two hundred years completely by herself in a matter of months. I used to worry about not getting her any help because of the covert nature of Project Eden, but now I think about it, having anyone else on the team would only be holding her back.
"Good. Does that mean you have already chosen a target universe?" I ask.
Cisca swipes at her phone and a picture appears on the screen.
"That's correct," she says, "From the tests I have conducted using computer simulations, we only have enough element 119 on Earth to transport one person."
"Only one?"
"Unfortunately. That's why I have chosen Universe E-150, aptly codenamed Eden. Signals have picked up a strong trace of element 119 there, more than enough to support the portal from the other side," Cisca says while pointing at the picture in front of me. She must think that the visual aid is helping her demonstration, but all I see is colored noise and random symbols inserted here and there.
"And when are we ready to initiate the project?" I ask.
"Today," Cisca says with no hesitation, "Isn't that where we are going right now?"
I knew Cisca was going to be efficient, but this is beyond my expectations.
WEE! WOO! WEE! WOO!
I hear a police siren fade into my ears. Through the rear view mirror outside of the driver's seat, I see a car with another one flashing red and blue chasing closely behind. Both of them are approaching me at a fast speed.
"STOP THE VEHICLE NOW! OR WE WILL RESORT TO FORCE!" A loud speaker sounds from the police car as the two zoom past me.
At the intersection in front of us, a second police vehicle drives across and drops small metal spikes behind it. The car running from the police crosses the intersection without slowing down.
BOOM! The spikes impale the tires and they explode. The police car after it stops right before the intersection to avoid the same fate.
SKRRRR! The criminal's car spins out of control and slides across the road, shooting sparks out of the exposed wheels.
CRASH!
As the out-of-control vehicle impacts the street light in the middle of the road, the police officers get out of their cars with rifles. The patrols around have also been alerted and gather at the site of the collision, with their guns pointed at the crashed car.
"Another day, huh?" I mumble to myself as our car takes a detour and leaves whatever that was behind.
"Are all the preparations ready?" I turn to Cisca, putting what I just saw out of my mind.
She doesn't bat an eye.
"Yes. The anti-aging agent has passed its last round of tests. It will slow down your aging process to 10%, effectively increasing your expected lifespan to over a millennium," Cisca says with no tone of excitement in her voice, oblivious to the fact that she has just become the first human to conquer death itself.
"Good work. That should give me enough time to bring Eden to the quantum ages even if the civilization there has yet passed the ancient ages."
"But that doesn't mean you can take your time. Don't forget, Earth likely won't have another 200 years left."
"Right." The green snowflakes outside of the window are constant reminders of that.
"Plus, that's only if homo sapiens have evolved enough to establish civilization in the first place."
"And what are the chances of that?"
"Considering how long Eden has existed, 92%."
"That's good enough for me."
Cisca sighs.
"Not when the future of humanity rests on it alone," she says.
"Trust me, I got it. What about the United Continent Government? When will we be able to reveal Project Eden to the public?"
Cisca points out the back at the incident we just witnessed and says, "With how it's currently looking, not in a few decades unless someone does something about the oligarchy's oppression."
"You reckon if we announce the project early, people might find hope to fight back?" I ask.
"Maybe. That's why they banned space exploration, right? But I wouldn't do anything that can compromise our current mission," she says.
"I understand," I say.
Cisca puts her phone away into her pocket, and the screen goes back to black.
"So, are you ready to leave for Eden? The portal can be opened as soon as we get to the lab," Cisca asks.
I take a second to think about it. I did not wake up in my bed this morning expecting to fall asleep in a different world, but there is also no reason to hold it back any longer.
"I don't see why not. I don't have anyone to say goodbye to," I respond.
"That's just sad."
I don't see why she says that. What is sad about it? Having people to say goodbye to would only make this project more difficult.
"It's not like I need anyone to say goodbye to."
"Aw…"
I can't stand Cisca's pitiful eyes. I know she is doing that on purpose to try to annoy me.
"Stop looking at me like that," I say and wave her off, causing her to chuckle, "Do we know anything else about Eden?"
"Nothing for sure. I don't have enough element 119 to send in scouting devices, so everything I can tell you is pure speculation."
"That doesn't matter. I can do all the scouting you want me to do when I get there. You have established trans-universal communication, right?" I ask.
"That's right. I will be watching through your eyes the whole time." The smirk on Cisca's face as she says that does not make me feel safe or comfortable at all.
The car pulls into a driveway and stops in front of a building.
"It looks like we are here. I will have to discuss personal privacy issues with you later. Let's head in for now," I say as I press the button to turn the window tints back to normal.
"Yes, sir."
Does she enjoy pissing me off?
We both open our doors and step outside of the car. The cold and noticeably polluted air fills my lungs. At least there is a roof above the driveway so the acid snow doesn't dissolve my suit.
The doors on the car slowly close by themselves, and the now-empty vehicle drives away into the parking lot. In front of me is a column made of glass and concrete, dwarfing every other skyscraper in Toronto. Above the gate reads in bold, metal letters, "THE KAPLAN TOWER."