Eve; Of Destruction.

Only five of the nine commissioners bothered to attend his presentation; even by remote holographic projection, their expressions betrayed various degrees of incomprehension.

“How do you know it even works?”

“We’ve sent back numerous artifacts, uniquely anomalous artifacts.”

“Such as?”

Djin hesitated. “The Shroud of Turin, for instance. It didn’t show up until the twelfth century, because it didn’t exist until the eleventh. We even put it outside in our climate for a short time to give it that scorched, authentic look.”

The Shroud of Turin was really one of Djin’s used bedsheets. This amazing revelation barely got a grunt out of the commissioners.

The only one who showed interest was the Chairman, Mr. Bain. “So,” he said, “your device only sends one article, or person, at a time.”

“Essentially, that’s correct, Mr. Bain, and we’re not certain that it’s survivable.”

“I see, and it’s a one-way trip?”

“Yes,” Djin replied. “Unfortunately.”

“So this experiment, whatever else it may reveal, is no solution to our problems.”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Chairman. As a means of escape, or exodus, it’s completely useless.”

“So the purpose of this experiment is purely academic?”

“That is—for the most part, correct,” Djin lied.

“All right, Doctor. Proceed with your experiment, for whatever good it’ll do, you have the blessings of the board.”

The meeting was adjourned, the holo-vids winked out, and Djin set about the laborious task of getting his heat-suit on without any assistance.

He popped an OxyStik into his mouth and felt it fizz as he bit into it. Without the supplements, the high levels of carbon dioxide in the air could inhibit brain function by as much as 20 percent.

After wrestling himself into the suit, Djin attached the helmet, closed the latches and got a green light on the seal. (All this for a trip across the campus parking lot.) He thumbed the communications link. “Evelyn. You there?”

“Sure, Doc.” Her voice crackled back.

“I’m returning to the lab. We’re going forward with the experiment.”

“I’ll be standing by the airlock, Doctor.” Evelyn was his chief Assistant. “Kick a lizard,” she added, signing off.

Because of the heat, airlocks were now the norm. He stepped through the inner door and was already sweating by the time the outer door opened.

He tried to ignore the smoldering, hellish landscape. No one traveled by day anymore, when they traveled at all. Global warming was worse than imagined, the oceans had risen, temperatures had soared, fresh water was scarce, food was scarcer still, droughts, plagues and famine had devastated the planet: Except for the insects and reptiles. Earth was in the last stages of its final mass extinction.

Dr. Djin was a scientist by training, but deeply religious by nature. It was difficult to reconcile the fate of humanity with his religious beliefs, but that same faith prevented him from surrendering to what seemed inevitable.

He kicked a two-foot-long lizard out of his way with one of his shielded boots. Their thick hides, toxic flesh and cold-blooded physiology allowed them to flourish in the steamy conditions. And they were multiplying rapidly.

After cycling through the airlock at the physics lab, Evelyn was waiting to help him out of his heat-suit. She wore oven mitts and a disposable mask. “I’ve assembled the team in the classroom, Dr. Djin.”

He forced a smile as he finished extricating himself from the protective gear. Evelyn was a godsend: A smart, vigorous and exacting young woman, beautiful and, as one would expect, one-third his age. She had applied for the assistant’s position at a time when no one wanted to work, let alone pursue academics. Her energy and charisma had attracted a host of talented young people into the physics program, and she drove them like pack animals.

Dr. Djin’s experimental research attracted its share of young talent too.

Addressing the team of a dozen students, he said, “Today’s the day. We’ve been given the green light.”

A clamor of approval swept through the group.

“This is not a cause for celebration, people.” The self-congratulation ceased. “Let me reiterate the most vital aspects of this experiment. One: We’ll have no reliable means to gauge its success or failure. Two: We must believe that it’ll work.” They all nodded their heads. “And Three: I believe the machine is as accurately calibrated as it can be. If my computations—and yours, are correct, the rest will be up to Evelyn.”

The students seemed restless until Evelyn stepped forward and clapped her hands twice. “All right then, you all know your jobs, get to your stations, and let’s get started.”

Several students hung back to wish her well. She brushed off their concerns with cheery optimism, and almost made them feel as if they were the guinea pigs, not her. She turned to find Dr. Djin staring at her morosely. He dreaded this moment. The point of no return.

He was genuinely distraught. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? You don’t have to go, you know.”

Her reply was crisp and harsh. “Oh yeah, Doctor, I’m really going to miss this place: the fires, the hunger, the yellow fog, and let’s not forget the lizards.” Her tone softened. “I’ll miss YOU, Doctor, but—I’m ready.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the ‘launch room.’ “If this works, you’re going to be close, very close. Probably within visual range and there’s nothing in the equations that says you can’t rewrite history.”

She smiled. A firm, self-possessed smile. She was well acquainted with the theories and equations. They had proven the flexibility of history, time after time.

“I know what to do, Dr. Djin. Have faith.”

He escorted her to the ‘launch room’ and hovered nervously as she assumed a kneeling position on the pad while the team went through the pre-launch physical checklist.

When they’d finished, he leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Remember what we talked about, trust your instincts. Okay? Goodbye Evelyn, and good luck.” He didn’t try to hide his tears. She remained solemn.

He retreated to the safety of the control room as a beam of tachyons rained down on his courageous assistant. She became transparent, and then vanished.

*****************

She removed her clothes and took a moment to appreciate the lush tropical environment. A blue sky crowned with white clouds presided over a beautiful pre-historic paradise. A rushing mountain stream ran alongside an orchard filled with fruit trees and curious, fearless animals. She was in the right time, at the right place. In fact, Djin’s calculations couldn’t have been better.

They were calm but curious as they watched her approach. Incredibly, the woman reached out and offered her the forbidden fruit.

Evelyn slapped the apple out of the woman’s hand, shoved her hard into the rock strewn water, then watched her drown, the current pushed the body downstream quickly. Then she grabbed a rock and pounded the sinister snake to death and was kicking its battered carcass under a bush when Adam returned from his walk.

“Eve! You look different.”

“God made some improvements,” Evelyn said, breathlessly: rinsing blood off her hands. “You like the changes?”

“I DO,” he replied emphatically, “but I’m hungry.”

“Have a peach,” she suggested, “there’s a tree full of fruit right over there.”