CHAPTER TEN
Murphy's Law
No cameras were present when the second quantum computer flickered to life. No one cheered; no one waved congratulatory banners. Instead, a light mechanical throb underscored how fragile this new machine was—how it lived on the edge between success and catastrophe. In place of a glorious unveiling, the entire team gathered at a battered worktable, eyes underscored by sleepless nights, each member keenly aware that a single misstep could bring everything crashing down yet again.
Vivek was at the far end of the table, staring hard at the holographic interface that displayed a dizzying wave of real-time data: superconducting circuit temperatures, cryptic readouts from the cryogenic chambers, system logs flashing in quick succession. Months earlier, he might have indulged in a moment of triumph. But triumph was a luxury they’d tasted once—and it had evaporated in a fiery explosion. Better to stay grounded, he told himself, and see if the new build can even stand on its own.
A subtle tension bound them all, as though the air itself was waiting to explode into something unstoppable. Their previous attempt had been a public spectacle that ended in ruin; no one was eager to repeat that fiasco. Each beep from the control panels reminded Vivek of how much of his personal fortune had vanished in this pursuit. He could practically see the money draining away—a digital hourglass measuring every second in dollars lost.
Just a few chairs away, Maya’s face glowed in the azure illumination from a secondary console. Although her posture was rigid, her fingertips danced across the keyboard in methodical keystrokes. She initiated the startup command for Mark II, exhaling quietly as the reinforced shielding sealed the quantum core within its protective shell. Everyone in the lab seemed to hold their breath in collective anticipation. A single meltdown had nearly ended their dream. Another would likely destroy it for good.
The second quantum computer responded with a barely audible electronic vibration, and faint lights traced the outline of its complex architecture. More lines of data scrolled across the screens, verifying each stage of the boot sequence. When a final sequence of status messages turned from yellow to green, the team allowed themselves to exhale. It wasn’t a grand victory—just the first, fragile step.
At least it hasn’t detonated…yet, Nicole thought from her post near the main console. She allowed herself a small nod of encouragement, but her hands remained poised over the keyboard, as though any second she might have to slam the system’s emergency shutdown. Over the last few weeks, her vigilance had proved lifesaving. Each time she’d found a misplaced decimal point or discovered a subtle miscalibration, she’d felt the specter of disaster hovering at her shoulder. Another uncorrected error could trigger the next catastrophe.
In moments of solitude, Nicole had fed the new system a series of hypothetical failure inputs: mislabeled components, corrupted code snippets, sensor readings that flirted with meltdown. Every time, the simulations delivered the same nightmare scenario: the hardware descending into chaos, Mark II disintegrating under its own complexity. More than once, she caught herself revisiting Vivek’s unsettling theory—the “sequence” that allegedly strung events together like a cosmic puppeteer. She’d never bought into the idea completely, but something about the unpredictability of their recent experiences gave her pause. Luck or pattern? she wondered. Either way, we’re still dancing on a knife’s edge.
Meanwhile, Vivek kept glancing toward a separate corner of the lab. He’d deliberately avoided a grand unveiling. This time, potential buyers were here in hushed secrecy—a handful of seasoned investors with deep pockets and an appetite for high-stakes innovation. None of them wore the open smiles of a press conference. These were people who measured every risk and demanded results before they parted with a cent. And that was precisely what Vivek intended to give them: an immediate demonstration of Mark II’s raw power, enough to silence any doubts.
Maya pressed a few keys, verifying core stability. A set of readouts showed the quantum state registers passing initial tests. She straightened, rolling her stiff shoulders as if trying to chase away the anxiety that had built up over the last year. The console’s final line of text declared the system ready for a test sequence.
“Looks good, Vivek,” she said quietly. “We can proceed whenever you’re ready.”
He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Let’s run that molecular-crack simulation—show them we can do something in minutes that a supercomputer would need weeks to finish.”
From the far side of the room, a cluster of investors murmured among themselves. They’d all witnessed a catastrophic meltdown not that long ago, so excitement seemed muted, replaced by cool calculation. Vivek recognized the expressions on their faces—people weighing potential fortunes against potential disasters, and trying to anticipate which outcome was more likely.
He turned back to the machine, eyes fixed on the flickering lines of code. I have to make them believe. I have to make myself believe. Tension squeezed his chest so tightly he almost forgot to breathe.
Then it happened. A jolt, subtle at first, like the building had hiccupped. A piece of overhead equipment rattled. Everyone paused, uncertain if it was an internal glitch or something else. The second tremor was stronger, sending a shudder through the floor that made monitors quake on their stands. Several people looked around, alarm flashing across their features.
“Earthquake?” Maya asked, half turning to Vivek. The overhead lights trembled again.
Before he could answer, the entire lab convulsed like a boat caught in a riptide. Lights cut out, plunging them into near-total darkness. Broken glass rained from overhead fixtures. Metal beams screeched in protest as the structure swayed.
Within seconds, the city’s worst fear materialized: an 8.5-magnitude quake, ripping through San Francisco with unstoppable force. In the gloom of emergency lighting, everyone was reduced to silhouettes. Alarms blared somewhere in the distance. Vivek struggled to remain on his feet, but a violent pitch of the floor sent him sprawling.
Amid the din, he heard a single thunderous crash from deeper in the lab. Sparks lit the corridor. “Maya! Nicole! Hartman!” he called, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of collapsing ceiling panels. Dust filled his lungs, causing him to choke.
As he staggered to his feet, blinking away the grit, he spotted Maya—her lab coat streaked with soot—helping a wounded coworker. The man’s leg was slick with blood, and Maya’s expression was stark. We have to get out before the building caves in entirely, Vivek thought, adrenaline spiking through his veins.
“Maya!” he repeated, this time louder. She glanced up, relief edging her features when she saw he was still standing.
“I don’t know where Nicole or Hartman are,” she shouted back. “We have to move!”
He examined the caving walls, shivering from the aftershocks that continued to rattle the floor. “Right,” he managed. “Let’s get him to safety. Then we’ll look for the others.”
She nodded, readjusting her grip. Together, they carried the injured man, half-dragging, half-supporting him around rubble and jagged shards of metal. Vivek’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. Every hallway seemed blocked. Exits that had been perfectly fine minutes earlier were now sealed by collapsed beams.
An enormous crack zigzagged across the floor tiles, the edges shifting beneath their feet. Shaken beyond belief, Vivek cursed under his breath. If we stay here, we’ll be trapped. The three of them turned down another corridor, only to find it crushed by falling debris. They reversed course, lungs raw from the dust swirling in the air.
A violent tremor slammed the walls again. A chunk of plaster tore loose from the ceiling, nearly crashing onto Maya. She yanked the injured man aside just in time. The fear in her eyes was palpable, but she swallowed it down, refusing to let terror claim her.
They finally reached a section where daylight streamed through a gaping hole in the outer wall. It wasn’t the lab’s official exit—just a fractured opening left behind by a collapsing beam. “That’s our best shot,” Vivek barked, his voice ragged.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
They edged closer, stepping over wires and bent railings. Broken glass scattered underfoot, crunching with every move. The injured man groaned, sweat lining his brow, and Maya whispered reassurances. Outside, the quake still ripped apart the city, but at least fresh air meant some chance of survival.
Their progress was slow, each step a minefield. As they neared the breach in the wall, another aftershock sent them lurching forward. Vivek tumbled, landing on his arm with a jolt of pain that made stars burst in his vision. He swallowed a gasp and hauled himself upright. Keep moving, he told himself, ignoring the pins and needles coursing through his limbs.
They emerged onto what had been a loading dock. The pavement was cracked in places, sloping at odd angles. Nearby, a portion of the building’s facade had caved in entirely, revealing twisted metal and broken desks. Sirens wailed from multiple directions, and dust clouds hovered over the city like a choking fog.
Maya caught sight of an ambulance weaving through the wreckage. “Help!” she shouted, waving one arm. A pair of paramedics spotted them and rushed over, swiftly unloading a stretcher for the bleeding man.
Vivek took a moment to catch his breath, scanning the chaos. Rubble-littered streets, panicked crowds, lines of vehicles pressed into rescue service. On any other day, he might have been shocked by the abrupt devastation, but right now, his entire focus was on finding the rest of his team.
“I’m going to look for Alex,” he said to Maya. “You’re staying with him?”
She nodded, biting her lip as she looked at her coworker’s injury. “Yes. Go! He needs you more than I do.” She hesitated, eyes flickering with worry. “But be careful.”
He nodded stiffly, turning away and limping across the half-collapsed parking lot. A stinging bruise on his thigh made every step a challenge. Yet he pushed forward, refusing to slow down. People surged around him—some stumbling in shock, others helping the wounded. Overturned cars lined the street like silent, beaten shells.
Vivek paused briefly to help an older woman who had tripped over a fallen streetlamp. She stared at him with wide, tearful eyes, managing a trembling “Thank you” before he guided her toward a group of volunteers. The quake’s rumblings had lessened for the moment, but the city remained on the brink of total panic. Smoke rose from more distant buildings, and sporadic aftershocks still shivered through the ground.
“I need to find Dr. Hartman,” he told a nearby police officer, who was directing foot traffic away from a crumbling overpass.
The officer squinted at him, taking in his dusty clothes. “I can’t keep track of individuals, sir. I’m sorry,” she said, raising her voice above the din. “Is he injured?”
“I don’t know,” Vivek replied in frustration. “I just know he was in the building with me when it collapsed.”
She gave him an understanding nod. “Try the triage center by the university admin building, about two blocks that way.” She gestured down a debris-littered street. “They’re registering survivors.”
He offered a quick word of thanks and hurried off, nearly twisting his ankle on a dislodged chunk of pavement. The sight of battered storefronts and vehicles wedged into sinkholes made him wonder if the entire city would ever recover. A child cried in the distance, and a volunteer group attempted to calm them.
At last, he spotted the large relief station. Makeshift tents lined the steps of the university building, and emergency personnel busied themselves with medical supplies. Determined, Vivek scanned the crowd until he caught a glimpse of Hartman’s distinct silhouette—tall, slightly stooped, with a bandage wrapped around his temple. Heart pounding, Vivek stumbled forward.
“Alex!” he called, voice cracking. Hartman turned, visible relief washing over his features as he recognized Vivek.
“Thank God,” Hartman muttered, hurrying closer. He looked exhausted and pale. “Have you seen Maya? Nicole?” He swallowed. “I—I got separated. Tried calling everyone, but the phone lines are down.”
Vivek put a hand on Hartman’s shoulder. “I found Maya helping someone injured. She’s all right—she’s out of the building.”
Hartman exhaled in short, jagged breaths, then asked the question that twisted Vivek’s gut: “What about Nicole?”
Vivek couldn’t meet Hartman’s eyes. “I haven’t seen her. We—got separated in the chaos. Maya mentioned she might’ve been in a different part of the lab.”
Just then, Maya emerged around a corner, hurrying toward them. The sight of her intact gave Hartman a momentary reprieve from his anxiety. “You’re okay,” he blurted, placing a gentle hand on her arm.
She nodded, though her gaze was distant. “Yes. The paramedics took the injured guy to the hospital. Vivek… we need to find Nicole.” Her voice trembled slightly as she said it. “No one’s mentioned her. It’s like she vanished.”
Their shared silence spoke volumes. She could be trapped in the rubble, Vivek thought, horror spiraling in his chest. Hartman cleared his throat, clinging to rationality. “We should look for her systematically. Check triage points, ask the first responders. She might be unconscious, or maybe she managed to get out and headed somewhere else.”
Maya gave a frail nod. “Right. Let’s do that.”
They approached medics, firefighters, and other survivors, showing Nicole’s photo on a phone. Half of them shook their heads; others apologized or redirected them to another triage station. Time felt elastic, stretching on as the sun sagged behind a haze of dust and smoke.
At one point, a firefighter recalled that he and his crew had dragged bodies from the lab’s wreckage. “We found a woman with a security badge reading Nicole,” he said quietly, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, but she didn’t make it.”
Vivek’s breath caught in his throat. The world seemed to blur, replaced by a muted roar in his ears. He stood there, unable to respond. The firefighter offered a gentle squeeze of Vivek’s arm, then moved on to help someone else.
When Vivek finally turned around, Maya and Hartman looked at him with a desperate hope that was immediately crushed by whatever they read on his face. Maya’s hand shot up to cover her mouth. Hartman took a stumbling step backward.
“No,” Maya whispered. “She can’t be…”
Hartman squeezed his eyes shut, agony written across every feature. “Nicole was…she was so sharp, so full of promise.”
Vivek bowed his head, speechless. How did this happen so quickly? He wanted to rage at the sky, at the quake, at the forces he believed lurked behind these improbable events—but he only managed a choked whisper. “She was the brightest among us,” he said, tears threatening his composure. “I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.”
A slow, oppressive hush descended upon them. The relief center buzzed with urgent activity, but for the three of them, everything else faded into the background. Maya hugged her arms close to her body, tears sliding down her cheeks. Hartman stared at the cracked pavement, breathing heavily, as though the devastation around them had multiplied tenfold.
For a moment, none of them spoke. Why is the universe so cruel? Vivek asked silently, recalling Nicole’s quiet dedication, her vigilance that had saved them from so many near misses. His heart pounded with guilt. Could he have prevented this if he’d recognized the quake’s risk? If he’d insisted the team stay at a safer location?
Hartman cleared his throat. “I can’t believe she’s…gone,” he said, voice rough. “She was…like a kid sister or something.” He trailed off, struggling to hold it together.
Maya managed to nod in agreement, though every movement looked painful. “She was brilliant,” she said, wiping her eyes and taking a shaky breath. “She deserved more time than this.”
Vivek gently placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tremor that coursed through her. “We’ll honor her,” he said quietly. “Somehow, once we piece our lives back together.”
Nearby, a distressed family called for help, their shouts echoing across the courtyard. Firefighters sprinted toward them. The urgent reminder of so many other lives in danger snapped them out of their mourning trance. There was still work to do, and if nothing else, they could lend a hand.
They spent the next few hours assisting in any way possible—distributing supplies, helping people navigate through fallen power lines, offering words of comfort when medicine was in short supply. The heartbreak was everywhere. Shocked faces peered from behind broken windows, and the hush of night brought no real respite, only a dim hush pierced by distant sirens.
Eventually, the three survivors of the Convergence team found themselves at a relief station set up in the university gymnasium. Cots were laid in neat rows, many already occupied by the displaced, the injured, the utterly exhausted. A single overhead generator-powered light cast wavering shadows on the floor.
They collapsed onto three empty cots, each lost in somber thoughts. The events of the day played on an endless loop in Vivek’s mind: the second quantum computer coming online, the smug investors waiting to sign fat checks, the quake that had swallowed all sense of normalcy—and finally, Nicole’s fate.
Maya rubbed her temples, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes held a distant, hollow look. “Vivek,” she said at length, her voice subdued, “you might be right about these…forces you keep talking about.”
Hartman, slumped on a cot across from them, gave a quiet nod. “I’ve never been one for ‘mysterious universes,’ but these coincidences… they’re piling up.”
Vivek dragged a hand down his face, feeling the grit of dried sweat and dust. “It doesn’t bring her back,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “But we need to understand—if there’s something orchestrating these events, we have to find out what it is… or at least how to protect ourselves.”
Maya’s expression hardened. “We keep going. That’s what Nicole would have wanted. She was…always the watchful one, the one who tested every angle. We owe it to her to see this project through.”
Hartman exhaled slowly, glancing at the flickering light overhead. “I’ll stay on. If we’ve come this far, I can’t walk away now.”
In the distance, the muffled wail of an ambulance faded. Vivek felt tears burning his eyes again, but he swallowed them down. “Tomorrow,” he said quietly, “we figure out next steps. For now, let’s do what we can here, help whoever needs help, and try to get some rest. We’ve got no real lab left, no working computer, and no immediate way to pick up the pieces of our research. But we’re still alive.”
Hartman laid a gentle hand on Vivek’s forearm. “We’ll survive, and we’ll rebuild. I promise you that.”
Maya bowed her head in agreement. “Yes. And next time,” she whispered, “we’ll be ready.”