“The best and the worst thing to happen to humanity. The metal ore Secronium. Sm on the Interplanetary table of elements,” boomed the teacher into the small classroom. Ethan wasn’t quite sure why he needed a microphone considering his loud voice. This was his last year of university and then he’d be a free man, able to bring the ideas in his mind to life. He’d thought about the day of his graduation since the day he started his degree and now it was just two months away. Not the time, Ethan. Focus!

“Does anyone know where we find Secronium?” asked the teacher.

The class fell silent. A small class of about twenty students immediately dropped their heads to their textbooks in front of them, refusing to make eye contact. Everyone except Ethan who had barely heard the question.

“Mr. Rider! Please enlighten us.”

Ethan swallowed as the entire class shifted their gaze to him. “If I remember correctly, it’s a rare ore found on the asteroid belt and the rings of Saturn.”

The lecturer gave Ethan a proud smile. “Correct! Secronium was so rare and valuable that it cost more than the price of gold and silver combined. In fact, before the governments of the world banned it, I had an ounce of it stored in a room in my lab. I mined it myself, actually.”

“You went to the belt?” a voice said in disbelief. “What was it like?”

Ethan’s lecturer chuckled, holding his belly. “It was quite breath-taking…Until you step foot on it. Then it’s just another rock. But that’s enough of that, for now. If there’s time after class, I’ll show all of you some pictures I took.”

The old man, whose hair had turned fully white, placed a small device on the table. A three-dimensional hologram filled the room. The class closed their textbooks as they were captured by the beauty of the simulation. Thousands of neurons connected to each other in convoluted paths that created a lattice called ‘the brain’.

“Isn’t it amazing,” he said as he touched one of the neurons making it light up like a bulb. “Trillions of these little guys all connected perfectly. Not one of them touches the other, nor do they get tangled. They’re just…there…like a tree with infinite branches…”

The lecturer walked to the center of the class and held out a small virtual sphere. He threw it at one of the neurons and it bounced off, suspended in space.

“That little ball was a machine. When we tried to integrate man and machine at a microscopic level, they were seemingly incompatible. Now, I’m not talking about prosthetic limbs or microchips in our brains. No, those have been around for quite some time. I’m talking about integrating the building blocks of human logic–our brain– and the building blocks of machine logic, which would be its code. Essentially, we’d create the perfect mold of machine and man. It was impossible to achieve until Secronium came along.”

He then placed a mesh over the ball and threw it back at the neurons. This time, the ball attached to the neurons and changed their shape, orientation, and size.

“Secronium was the catalyst…The um…bridge, if you will, between man and machine. Between organic and inorganic material. It made things that were seemingly impossible, elementary. It seamlessly, almost instantly, integrated with any piece of machinery in the world. Perhaps, with proper refinement, it could even access any piece of DNA in any organism.”

He closed the simulation and slotted the device back into his pocket. “And that, my friends, was the problem. It was too powerful. Imagine having a skeleton key that unlocked every bank of information around the globe. The ability to access and edit the coding of any machine in an instant. The ability to insert or delete genetic code from an organism on command. It would be chaos…”

“Is that why it was banned, sir?” asked Ethan.

“Partially, yes. The other reason was that it caused a rare terminal illness in those who were exposed to it. Now, sufficient exposure to Secronium will kill anyone but for some people, even a whiff of it could leave them infertile or give them a death sentence. It was bad either way.”

“What about the mines? Did they shut down?” asked a voice from the class.

“Officially, yes. But everyone knows how vital those mines were to the belt’s economy. It wouldn’t be a surprise if they we-”

“Mr. Ethan Rider?” asked the doctor.

Ethan’s mind snapped back to reality at the calling of his name. “Yes?”

The doctor greeted Ethan with a warm smile and opened the door for him. “Please come in and take a seat.”

Filling his lungs with a deep breath, Ethan entered the doctor’s consultation room. It’s going to be okay, he assured himself. It’s going to be okay…

***

“Secronium Poisoning. It's terminal,” Xavier said.

The sound drained from his ears. The voice of Dr. Xavier fell to the background, barely audible to Ethan. The loudest sound he could hear was his own thoughts. It was if his brain had frozen with the overload of impulses rushing to it. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry as a desert. He felt himself needing to actively control his own breathing. The young scientist shut his eyes tight, rubbing his eyelids. If there was any time to wake up from this nightmare, now would be ideal.

“Mr. Rider?” the doctor asked. “I understand this is difficult for you to hear, but—”

Ethan regained his senses. “Yes, it is, but I understand. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Unfortunately,” the doctor added. “All I can do is make sure that you live a comfortable life for as long as possible by treating the symptoms as they arise. Secronium Poisoning is terminal only in patients with specific blood types and you are one of them, unfortunately.”

Looking down at his hands, Ethan stammered with a quiver in his voice, “C-c-can you tell me how much time I have left?”

Ethan could feel Dr. Xavier’s gaze fall on him. “You’ll be healthy for three years. After that, you’ll start losing body mass and may—”

“Yes, I know the symptoms of the later stages.”

An eery silence filled the doctor’s room. Surprisingly, Ethan wasn’t struggling to keep his composure as much as he thought he would. The reality of the situation hadn’t quite set in. Something told him that the more he’d think about it, the worse it would get.

“Ethan,” began the doctor using his first name for the first time in their consultation. “I humbly suggest that you make the best of these three years. If there is anything you wanted to do, then you should do it while you have the strength.”

Ethan solemnly nodded biting on his lower lip. “Thanks…I’ll, uh… I’ll do that.”

“And remember, I’m always here if you need to ask any questions. I’ll only give you as much information as you’re comfortable with handling. It’ll take us some time to come up with a treatment plan that’s best for you, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to do what I can for you. That’s my job. For now, we’ll just discuss a few details and give you some contact numbers for any emergencies, alright?”

“Yes…Uhm, that would be…uh…Yeah, thanks.”

A half-hour later, Ethan left the doctor’s room and made his way home. He walked to the nearest teleporting station and walked through the terminal. He felt like a plastic bag floating aimlessly in the wind.

Teleporting in 3...2...1... Please remain calm and keep your arms inside the terminal!

The same annoying sound of the terminal didn’t bother him today. He focused solely on the insignificant things. The little speck of dirt on the floor or the humming of the teleporter. If he just focused hard enough on that, perhaps the thoughts of the recent events would fade away…For now, at least.

Ethan materialized on the other side of the terminal. The station he was so familiar with now looked strange to him. He barely noticed the reflection on the clean tiles, or the people calling him to come to their store to buy something. The young scientist glided past the apple shop he’d always stop by and halfheartedly pushed his body through the door.

Sliding the key into the lock of his apartment door, the lock released with some difficulty, but the door wouldn’t budge. He pushed the handle harder, and the door moved an inch. Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. Dr. Xavier said I’ll start feeling weaker in later stages. What if the diagnosis was wrong and I have less than— Ethan willed himself to end that chain of thought as he gave the door one last push with his shoulders. It finally opened and he nearly fell to the ground. The wood has just expanded. It’s probably the moisture from the rain, he thought with a sigh of relief.

He dropped himself on the couch and switched the TV on. Ethan always enjoyed a good comedy. After all, laughter was the best medicine, and right now, he could use some of that. Nothing. Not even a show that would usually have him holding his stomach with laughter got a smile out of him.

Running his fingers through his brown hair, he switched the TV off, dropping his head. He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears, trying to organize his thoughts. His thoughts were like a pile of wires tangled with each other.

“If there is anything you wanted to do, then you should do it while you have the strength”

But the one thing Ethan wanted was far beyond his reach. He couldn’t remain in a noisy kitchen his entire life cooking for people. That wasn’t for him even though he enjoyed it. He needed to decide what he was going to do with the time he had remaining, and time was certainly not on his side. The longer he lazed around the worse it would feel. He needed to find something that would make all this worth it.

For a split second, a thought zipped through his head. What if I didn't care? I'm already stuck with one foot in the grave, right? What's the point of turning back now? He stuck his hand into his pocket searching for his communication link. He pulled it out quickly and scrolled down to his contacts. His eyes darted from side to side as he scrolled until he stopped on one number. ‘Asteroid Belt contact: Storm’.

All he had to do was swipe across the screen to call him. His thumb was inches away from the screen.There will be no more nightmares, no more guilt, no more pain, he tried to convince himself. He’d finally be free of the debt he’d been trying to pay his entire life.

But what if it failed? In fact, it had a higher chance of failure than success. It's just a prototype, he thought. But there is still a chance, right?

If he took that chance, Ethan knew he’d have to grab it with both hands. If he did whatever it took to get what he wanted, he’d risk losing everyone he has. He wished there was a world where he could have both and maybe if he had more time, he could have. Who knows how much worse his sickness could get if he exposed himself to even more Secronium?

Come on, Ethan! What the fuck are you thinking?

He moved his thumb from the screen and hit the ‘delete’ button. The contact disappeared from his link. His hands quivered as he placed the link face-down on the table next to him.

Ethan didn’t know if what he felt was clarity or insanity, but he realized something at that moment. “What were the odds?” he whispered to himself. The idea that despite all his efforts, he was going to die in three years due to his own unchecked ambition and he didn’t achieve a single thing, was to him, the funniest joke he'd heard and all he could do was laugh.