Chapter Text
“We're at 15 seconds until full capacitor charge,” said Hawke, staring up at the dial. The room was windowless, but the storm outside was audible through the vents, fierce drops pinging against the echoing metal. Somehow, though the hanging flourescent light bathed the facility in the same cold and even glow as always, it felt like night in how the corners of the massive room remained in shadow. Merrill stared eagerly at the same spot as Hawke, nibbling her lower lip, hands clasped white-knuckled on the desk. Anders sat behind them, lazily turning in a swivel chair, gazing far up at the ceiling grates, as the clock counted down.
“Five,” said Hawke. He tried to will his eyes to stay open. It really was late, and everything was starting to feel dreamlike. “Four. Three. Two. One. Charge complete, we're armed to fire. Merrill?” Merrill reached both arms up to pull down a gray steel lever.
The light flickered. From far away, within the reactor, there was a faint rushing sound, like the wind in the wake of a passing train. And... that was it. Nothing through the tiny window of leaded glass and steel mesh that was their view into the reactor. Merrill turned to stare at the oscilloscope as it sprang to life, scratching out traces with fervor. Next to it, the computer whirred to attention and began printing numerical readings, which Hawke moved over to look through. He had to admit, he wasn't optimistic. Maybe there really wouldn't be a noticeable difference when the experiment finally worked, but Hawke had a feeling he would know it when it happened. And this time was no different from the thousands of times before. The numbers stamped and spat out in front of him said as much, as he scanned them: .005, .007, .002...
“Ooh! I think I might have something!” Merrill pointed to one line on the oscilloscope output. Anders turned his head, but seemed to think better of getting his hopes up, and rolled his chair away across the granite floor, towards the chalkboard at the other side of the room. Hawke went over to see what Merrill was pointing at, more out of a desire to humor her than anything else. “See, Hawke? Doesn't this look like something's happening at 4000 hertz?”
Hawke leaned to look at the line above Merrill's messy purple-polished nail, but didn't see anything that looked like a regular oscillation. “Maybe?” he said. “It looks like ambient electromagnetic noise, but... maybe there is something there.” There was nothing there. “Let's keep looking out for it in the next few experiments, and if we see it again, maybe we'll try to figure out where it's coming from. I just don't think the beam is reacting with the lyrium yet.” He thought about patting Merrill on the shoulder. No, not worth it. Nothing worth congratulating her for yet, and he didn't want to come across as creepy.
“I think it's a sign we're getting closer.” Merrill beamed up at him, her wide eyes betraying her anxiety despite her smile. “Should we try to sweep through the angles one more time?”
“Merrill, that'd be 50 more runs, and it's what... past 11?” Hawke stood up straight, his back popping. “And I think we might need to be using smaller increments, anyway. Which would... increase the number of required runs by a factor of 10...” Hawke rubbed his eyes. “I think we need to call it a night, team. We'll have a better chance at figuring out how to make the beam less erratic once we've had some sleep. And food. I haven't eaten dinner, and I don't think anyone else has either.”
“Do you think the tungsten coils need to be recalibrated?” Merrill asked. “I've got this urge to calibrate something.” She was still smiling and bright-eyed. Hawke didn't understand where she got her energy, but it's true she wouldn't have lasted long in this line of work without it. This research on Fade energy sounded so exciting on paper: a completely newly discovered form of energy, potentially emanating from the very substance holding the world together, a return perhaps to discovering the mysteries of the ether... So far, however, the reality of it had been equal parts grueling and unfulfilling. Fade energy was finicky and mercurial to generate, and trying to get it to cooperate in any way was like herding Schrodinger's cats. The government was losing interest, and the funding was running thin...
Speaking of which. “If anything,” Hawke replied, “those coils need to be replaced completely. I don't think they're supposed to last for more than a few months, certainly not with the amount of energy we're putting through them.”
“Oh.” Merrill's face showed a hint of falling. “The last time I checked they were on back order.”
“Well, may as well check again, but the depot won't be open until tomorrow. All the more reason to head home.” Hawke noticed a certain lack of snarky comments; Anders had been unusually quiet. In the distance, he heard chalk scratching at a chalkboard. “Anders, what say you?” Hawke called out. “Coming up with any brilliant theorist thoughts back there, or are you ready to head out?”
Anders didn't reply for a second. He was standing with his face towards the chalkboard, but Hawke knew the look he must have in his eyes at that moment, that look where the laughter suddenly drained away and was replaced with an almost frightening focus. “Light,” he murmured.
“I know, I've been thinking of getting another lamp in here,” said Merrill. “It gets rather dismal, doesn't it?”
“No. Light. Photons. Radiation.” Anders shook his head and used the chalk to underline a figure on the blackboard. “At the intensity we're producing it, Fade energy should produce light where the beam is strongest. Only a small amount, but detectable. We wouldn't have to keep guessing at the shape of the field if we could just... look in there and see where the light is brightest.”
Merrill ran over to the chalkboard. “You're right! All this time we've been trying to predict where the energy goes, but we could avoid the problem entirely, if there was just a way to detect the light in time...” She nibbled her pinky fingernail. “Maybe we could use a camera, and some kind of radio-controlled device? Like a little helicopter with the lyrium on it?”
Hawke felt life surge back into him as he went over to look at the equations. “By god, Anders, you're right! It makes perfect sense! Merrill, I think you're onto something with the radio-control idea. I'd been looking into automating some of the protocol, anyway. They're doing these incredible experiments with robotic arms nowadays. Maybe we could get funding to collaborate with the engineering department...”
Anders was looking at them with a smile that was almost a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. It would have seemed condescending if the glimmer of excitement in his eyes didn't make him look as innocent as a kid at Disneyland. “You two really are fond of overcomplicating things, aren't you? We don't need a helicopter-bot. We could finish this experiment today, if we just... did it ourselves.”
Merrill's mouth formed a tiny O. “You don't mean...”
“Anders, that's insane!” Hawke recoiled. “Are you suggesting one of us stand in the reactor and watch while we run the experiment?”
“What? I'll volunteer!” Anders grinned. “There's Fade energy all around us, every day of our lives.” He gestured with both arms in broad circles. “Hell, the reason it hasn't been discovered until now is because it barely interacts with anything. I can stand in the middle of the reactor and it'll pass through me as harmlessly as neutrinos. Then all I have to do is stick the lyrium where the light is.”
Hawke hadn't needed to feel protective of Anders in years, but old sickening emotions were beginning to reawaken in his gut. “ We have no idea what Fade energy at this density would do to someone, much less what'll happen when it finally reacts with the lyrium. What happens if it I don't know, explodes or something?”
“Then I'll die in a blaze of glory, and they'll name the reaction after me.” Anders put his arm around Hawke's shoulder, and Hawke tried not to think about how that made him feel. “The von Fels effect,” he said, sweeping one hand in a broad arc. “Well, you two can have credit too. The von Fels-Hawke-Sabrae effect. But they'll erect a special explosion-shaped monument in my honor.”
“Anders, this isn't funny!” Hawke pushed him away. “Remember how Marie Curie died? Does the name Louis Slotin mean anything to you? You could get seriously hurt!”
“By what?” Anders grinned and wiggled his fingers. “Fade ghosts?”
“Oh! I saw a recent study saying that ambient Fade energy is higher in areas where there have been ghost and UFO sightings!” said Merrill. “Also the Bermuda triangle!”
“That's nice, Merrill, I'm sure that's real science.” Anders rolled his eyes and took his hand off Hawke's shoulder. “Seriously, Hawke, none of our calculations suggest any of this should be at all dangerous. Wildest scenario is that the ether is disrupted in maybe a few inch square area. Worst case, some lyrium gets splashed in my eye. If that's what's bothering you, I'll wear goggles.”
“Anders...” Hawke shook his head. “We need a way to automate these experiments anyway. I'll apply for the engineering grant tomorrow and we should be able to start working on it within the month.”
Anders' smile waned. “Hawke, these results could change our understanding of the entire universe, and you're having us sit on our thumbs until engineering gets back to us? You're stalling the progress of science for months at least, years probably, while the money runs out, just because you're scared of the unknown?” His expression became pleading. “Where's the old Hawke I know? The one who burnt off half his beard in inorganic chem lab because he wanted to see if he could get the precipitate to turn purple ? The one who tried to break into the steam tunnels to steal a table from the cafeteria for a prank?”
Hawke rolled his eyes, but just barely managed to not smile. “Do not remind me of the cafeteria incident. I was almost expelled, and the prank wasn't even that funny.”
“You stole a whole table?” asked Merrill, incredulous.
“See?” Anders gestured indignantly. “The grad student can't even comprehend that you aren't Doctor Responsible Q. Serious all the time. Where's your sense of adventure?”
“I think you should let him do it,” Merrill said, cautious. “It's just, imagine it, seeing Fade energy move in front of your eyes... It must be beautiful. If... if you won't let him do it, I want to try.”
“What? No.” Hawke was not about to let anything befall Merrill on his watch. “No, Merrill, you're staying right here, and Anders, you...” Hawke didn't finish the sentence. Anders was looking at him with such painful intensity, and that look meant more than just this experiment. It drew him back to a more freer time, before the cycle of grants and late nights and failures, when greater things seemed possible... “You... can try it. You're right, we need these results, and there's no reason it shouldn't be safe. I'm being superstitious.”
A nders grinned. “I'll wear protective equipment. Just to be safe.”
“Anders, those suits are meant to protect the materials from us, not the other way around.”
“Then I'll wear protective equipment and goggles.” Anders was already pulling the gauzy PPE off the shelf, as well as gloves and eyewear. He snapped a procedure mask and plastic goggles on, pulled the boiler suit up and zipped it, and turned to give them a thumbs up. Though his face was covered, Hawke could tell how huge his smile was. “Are you two ready to make history?”
“Yep!” said Merrill, with a thumbs up of her own.
“Don't get cocky,” said Hawke, and smiled back. He was almost letting himself be infected by the enthusiasm.
A nders opened the outer door to the reactor, and keyed in the combination for the heavy lead inner door. It buzzed. “Give me thirty seconds to get into position and then fire it again. We'll be published in Nature before you know it. If they don't start engraving our Nobels right off the bat.” He opened the door and disappeared into the darkness. The door clicked shut behind him.
Hawke pushed the outer door closed. He grinned at Merrill, beginning to feel almost as happy as he tried to look . “Well, I guess we should start counting.”
“One, two,” Merrill started. “Oh wait, I should count down. Twenty-eight, twenty-seven...” Hawke could see her shaking, whether with nerves or excitement or both. He breathed deeply. This could work. They could finally find out what tied Fade energy to lyrium, what Fade energy was, where it came from... They could unlock the secrets of the universe. They could change life as they knew it. A rush he hadn't known in years came back. This was why he was a scientist.
“Four, three, two, one!” said Merrill. “Now we have to charge the capacitors.”
“Oh, right, right. Guess that gives Anders a few more seconds to get ready.” He pressed the button on the reactor control panel. “One more countdown. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen...” Hawke could feel his heart, its thudding taking over all other sensations.
Merrill counted with him. “Three, two, one!” she s aid , and threw the lever. There was the familiar whooshing sound again, and Hawke's mood suddenly began to fall again . What if they were wrong, what if they had condemned Anders to death with a smile and a wave?
Then a burst of green light showed through the leaded window, bright enough to light Merrill's features in stark relief. There was a crack, like lightning, dull through the door , and a crackling like an iced-over river breaking and roaring to life. Hawke and Merrill looked at each other, horror dawning on both their features in a fraction of a second. It had worked, but this reaction was unprecedented- There was a sound through the door like a muffled thunderclap, a rolling, rending sound .
“Anders!” Merrill cried, almost a scream, and Hawke yanked the door open. He keyed in the combination with fumbling fingers and swung open the inner door.
T he reactor was dark, the only light flooding in from the room Hawke had just left. He sprinted across the bridge, metal grating clanging beneath his feet. It was an almost deafening sound, enough that he didn't notice another sound until a second after it started... the sound of laughter. Anders' laugh.
“He's alive!” Merrill shouted from behind Hawke, sprinting with lighter footsteps. “He's okay!”
Somehow Hawke couldn't be relieved yet, couldn't calm down until he saw Anders alive with his own eyes. But he could see dimly now: Anders was there. He was seated on the ground for some reason as though he had been knocked back, vial of blue lyrium spilled across the grating next to him, dripping through.
A nders kept laughing, gleeful and hearty, echoing in the huge void. Hawke ran up to him, panting. “Anders! You're okay!”
Anders used the back of his hand to push up his goggles. “Hawke! You should have seen it! You were right, it completely exploded! This green bolt shot up from the lyrium at least two, three meters high! And there was this light, like fire or something... it looked like the air cracked open! It just hung there for a second before collapsing, it was like nothing I've ever seen! Oh my god, you missed it!” He burst into laughter again, sitting up and peeling off his rubber gloves. “ I can't believe it! It worked!”
“Let me help you up,” Hawke said, regaining his breath. He extended a hand, and Anders took it. Suddenly, blue sparks shot up all over Anders, racing across him towards Hawke, illuminating his silhouette in the darkness. Hawke shouted and jumped back.
T he sparks vanished as quickly as they had come. “ Come on, Hawke, it's just static!” laughed Anders. “You really are afraid of everything all of a sudden, aren't you?” He got up by himself and pulled the mask off.
“Anders!” cried Merrill, running up behind Hawke. “It worked!”
“It worked!” Anders opened his arms and Merrill leapt into them, and they hugged and twirled like they were in a musical number. Hawke laughed nervously, envious of their joy. This was the first time he had seen a moment between them free of any tension, and he wished he could feel the same.
“Oh, but you've spilled the lyrium,” Merrill said as he put her down, expression turning sour. “I'm going to have to go down there and clean it up, aren't I.”
“And then we'll have to let it dry, meaning no more experiments for tonight,” said Hawke. “Meaning we can go home.” He stretched.
“Hawke, what's gotten into you?” Anders asked. “No congratulations in order? No rejoicing? We just cracked a hole in the world!” Merrill held out her hand for a handshake, and Anders shook it like he was trying to dislocate her arm. “This is more than just Nature, my friend! This is an entire career's worth of research in front of us! This is a new scientific age!”
“No, you're right, you're absolutely right.” Hawke held out his hand for a handshake as well, and Anders obliged, shortly followed by a grinning Merrill. “We've cracked it. We'll be rich and famous beyond our days, and who knows, we might discover a thing or two.”
“There's the spirit!” Anders slapped Hawke on the back. There was still a tingle as if of residual charge. “I suppose it's too late for drinks?”
“It is never too late for drinks,” Hawke told them, smiling at both. “This is exactly the reason I keep a bottle of whiskey under my desk.”
“Ooh, I'm excited!” Merrill squealed. “I've never been able to afford the good whiskey!”
“With our luck, that may well be changing,” said Hawke, turning to head back. “Regardless, I think all of us could use a drink.” Especially him. Hawke didn't know why he couldn't feel as happy as his fellows did, but he hoped a drink could bring his mind back from the dark.