Welcome to Gaia! ::

// June 12, 2023

There were certain things that had to be maintained on the brink of humanity's extinction, tests that required stability in their variables and mediums, precise calculations made to inform the experiments that could save them. Experiments that could allow them the opportunity to return.

They were crucial experiments of an immeasurable magnitude of importance, so Mimsy naturally ensured that she was assigned to them. It was fairly theoretical work anyway, and she felt confident that she was the most knowledgeable in this subject of all that were on board.

(She felt that same level of intellectual confidence in regards to most things, but theoretical sciences were especially strong.)

As bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as an intern fresh out of a bachelor's degree, she approached the experiment for the first time, taking care to input all of the numbers exactly congruent to those she had arrived at in her calculations. It took hours just to do that, following days upon days of working through equations to balance everything just right, following months of observation to determine what the variables were in the first place.

There was no promise that she would receive an answer today, so she pressed the button to initiate numerical processing and prepared to clock out for the day.

By the time she slid off of the stool in front of the console and turned around, there was a ping to notify her of a result.

INCONCLUSIVE it said, in letters as cold and rigid as the numbers that failed her.

// January 12, 2024

Three hours and forty-nine minutes.

The voice on the other end of the line was grim. She knew what the answer was before she ever even arrived.

The longer she stared at it, the worse she felt. This was her most important job. Even if she didn't want to go home, they depended on her. She didn't want anyone to be here if they didn't want to be as badly as she did - just like Wonderland.

Her thumb brushed the panel, leaving a trail of colorful residual particle shifts in her wake. It warped the word, but didn't change it.

INCONCLUSIVE.

// July 12, 2024

Twenty-three hours and five minutes after she confirmed the start of the process, the calculations were finalized.

She knew that it should not take this long. She knew that there was unnecessary work in her formulas. She knew that she was going in circles.

She just didn't know how to stop.

INCONCLUSIVE.

// January 12, 2025

Seventy-one hours and five minutes.

For ten years, Mimsy dedicated her entire life towards the discovery and identification of the particle called the Higgs Boson. She was very aware of what it would mean to have her name attached to the project, and was well on her way to achieving it. She had a promising internship at CERN, and was set to officially sign on when she completed her doctorate in June of 2012.

For twenty years, she had been forced to see the world differently, born into a perspective unlike almost anyone else. There were things that science had never identified that she saw through her window at night. There were entities with names and species and abilities that were real, but only existed in fantasy and conspiracy theories. There were shadows comprised of matter unlike that in their world, and the darkness that surrounded her seemed a lot like the answer.

For two days, she considered how much sense it made that only she held the key, and only they could guide her to unlock that potential.

She lost the Higgs Boson.

She lived a while in delusion, and she lost the Higgs Boson again.

She lost Wonderland.

She lost the only thing that mattered, for a little while.

She was living in delusion.

And it was only a matter of time before her repeated failures and inability to prove her worth meant that she would lose everything again, and it would be permanent this time.

INCONCLUǪ̸̖͔̙̟N̰̲C̴̮̟̝̬̱̞̞̖̕L̸̩̳̱̠̰͞Ų҉̱̞͚

Hitting the console with her fist in frustration had not been the answer. But to be fair, 'INCONCLUSIVE' was not the answer either.

// April 13, 2025

Over time, stopping by the cupola to look out over the Earth nestled in the cosmos lost its sense of wonder.

A long time ago, an Alice who had been very important to her had spoken to her in a setting not unlike this one. Theirs belonged to the existing ISS, of course, but there were marked similarities between the two. It was just a dream then, a fantasy of something that would never happen combined with a fantasy that she could never have, yet here she was.

She had achieved existence within the only feasible world that could make her feel at home, but she failed to prove her worth here. She had climbed to the top of the ranks through sheer intellect and commanded respect from the best of them, but she didn't enjoy the power. She had all that she wanted, as long as she could play pretend.

Fifty percent successful wasn't bad, but it wasn't especially satisfactory either.

Zero percent was even worse.

And it no longer made her feel satisfied to stare down at that stupid pale blue dot.

// April 14, 2025

"Would you be angry with me if we never went back?"

It was the first thing he heard. As soon as he could, his head lifted to take in the question, process it, and answer as quickly as he could. But it wasn't quick enough - she continued to elaborate, and he sighed in disbelief. He would never ask her how she could doubt his loyalty whenever she had moments like these - but he certainly wondered. She was the only reason he remained. The only reason he was here at all. Where else could he go?

"You're wrong." She hated when he told her that. It made him smile. "No matter what you do, or don't do, I will always be proud to be your husband. I will scream it into space until my voice goes hoarse and I have to come back for repairs."

He turned on the public communications systems. Everyone else would just have to deal. "CONGRATULATIONS!" He screamed out, laughing happily right before cutting it off. If anyone was surprised at his outburst, he'd never hear about it.

"You are my reason for existing, Mimsy Morris." He reminded her, very gently. "It's okay. I'll just keep reminding you until the day you die."

// April 16, 2025

The next day was not met with the same reverent silence, because it was during the second test that someone else occupied the laboratory with her.

Mimsy had recorded this information, just as she recorded everything else. She remembered very clearly how the trainee (a boy, twenty-one, who could no longer survive on sheer luck) came to notify her of a result, and how the result read 'INCONCLUSIVE', and how he was the first to see it.

He had so much to tell her today. He always had so much to tell her, and never stopped to listen. As boastful words of his intellect spilled endlessly out in front of her, she thought that she had never heard something so unintelligent. Despite how highly she thought of herself, she had always remembered to pay close attention when attention was necessary.

Had he been better that that, he might have had time to save himself.

Instead, she found one of her missing conclusions: bright red, the first useful thing to come running out of his mouth in all of his existence.

//April 17, 2025

The outlook for this was grim. She knew what she had to do before she ever even arrived.

The longer she thought about it, the more clear it became. This was the solution. This was the cure to the affliction, and she was the one responsible for finding it. No one should be here if they didn't want to be as badly as she did.

Her thumb brushed over his visor, and didn't change the condensation left behind by puffs of hot, panicked breath on the other side.

But the snip that severed his air supply did.

"1-12-2024 is conclusive," she whispered in a shuddering exhale, knowing it would be heard by the only one that mattered.