Teleporter Auberge

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Paula Passcode pulled into the Teleporter Auberge, her scanned particles beaming in the mirror and her laser sharp eyes saw more than she desired.

There were deadlines upon deadlines, boxes to tick, protocols to abide by, codes to be honoured but even the most advanced atomic clock couldn’t afford her more time. In the end – either it would work or it wouldn’t. There were no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’.

A deep uncertainty underpinned her demeanor as she made her way down to the Blackjack Quantum Casino. In the corner, chewing the fat and debating the universe was God and Albert E=mc2. Albert looked pensive when he saw Paula with the dice and God was keeping his cards close to his chest in regard to his ‘mysterious ways’.

Hours and hours of planning hadn’t worked, the best she could come up with were probabilities; she would leave it all to chance and let the universe decide, as she toyed with the predictive text on her quantum calculator. The Universe had its own laws and it wasn’t giving them up easily. Somehow, she always did better by following her gut feelings!

Albert, meanwhile, longed to get back to the ‘Real World’ and he knew just where it was, a European style pub, lit by bright lasers and spinning like a CD in play-mode. “It’s still the only place you can get a pint of ‘Real Ale’ on this planet” said Albert, paraphrasing Groucho Marx and slumping in the chair.

Nobody could be certain of what the ‘Real World’ was anymore, the more the experts looked into it, the more surreal it seemed to appear. These were exciting times of boundaries being broken, unexpected expectations, paradigms putting on their coats in readiness for new explanations.

Suddenly there was a huge rumble in the Real World Pub, Albert’s ale sloshed out of it’s glass and the paintings jumped off the wall. “It happens every time that women throws the dice, the real world will never be the same again” he lamented.
“Come come Albert” said the landlord “You kicked off the game, it has to take it’s course, win or lose”. Albert sighed, “Yes, I guess you’re right”.

The Landlord re-started the pub lasers and poured another drink and Albert picked a violin off the wall and began to play. “I haven’t played since I was a lad, it’s as if I’m there again, and I was not as good a student as you’d expect!”

Paula sat on the floor watching him, the year was 1855, they were in his childhood town. “I pulled off the Pass code” she told him “I added a ‘Time-Rollback’ app to the atomic clock. I wanted you to be the first to experience it, that’s why I brought you here”. I have called the app ‘The Teleporter Auberge’ as that’s where I took the plunge, threw the dice and followed my instincts!

Albert entangled her in a big hug - “The dice payed off for you – you went out on a limb and won!”

“Yes, music has always been the key for me.” said Paula. “It was hearing the Beatles, all those years ago, or should I say forward, singing ‘You say Yes, I say No, you say stop and I say go, go, go’, it was that song - ‘Hello, Goodbye’ - that sparked it all off for me. It was hard then for a women to work her way up in the sciences but you know, there are only two possibilities, yes or no, and I said yes, ‘Go go go’!”

“The beauty of this app” continued Paula, “is that we can be in two places at once! Here in the past and in present simultaneously or even the future. You don’t have to leave your own time-zone. Great for research and foreshadowing future developments.”
“Be careful what you do with time.” said Albert “incremental changes can have huge and lasting effects!”

Paula threw the dice and suddenly they were back in the Real World Pub. The landlord had prepared a celebration buffet and the guests had started to socialise. “It’s been a great day for innovation” said the landlord, standing before the crowd, but as they all raised their glasses, Paula screamed “It’s him!” “Who?” they shouted, “the author, he’s been watching us all the time, interfering!”.

Just as the author was about to edit their words and hone the plot, the characters all turned into waves and waved goodbye, leaving by all the wrong exits, causing the author some deep uncertainty! Storytelling wasn’t as easy as it used to be!

About the Author: 
Trev is a poet, lyricist from the UK, a former tutor and arts / educational development worker with the WEA and Leeds University Adult Education Centre. He was born in Coventry and lives in North Yorkshire.