Something went wrong in the MAB today. Very wrong.
Jeff and I first met as undergraduates at MIT, and we’ve been research partners ever since. Even in those early days there was no doubt that Jeff was the smarter half of our duo, a once-in-a-generation scientific mind. I was the tortoise to his hare, slow, methodical and by-the-book. Jeff’s brilliance has propelled us further than we could ever have dreamed – the patents, the accolades, pushing the frontiers of science and engineering. Despite all that, I don’t think it’s hyperbole to say that without me reining him in and providing some structure and method to our work, Jeff would likely not have survived even our earliest experiments. The man is a genius, but he’s chaotic, sloppy. Downright foolhardy when it comes to safety, especially when he thinks he’s close to a breakthrough.
What are we working on? Well…let’s just say it’s something that will change the world and human life as we know it. If we can actually get it to work, that is. Our early tests have proven the concept, but everything we send – even the simplest stream of data – becomes strangely mutated. It’s almost as if the device is…adding a little bit at each step along the way.
It’s been driving Jeff crazy. The man is impatient at the best of times, and hitting a wall like this brings out the worst in him. When I left the lab late last night, he was still working furiously, running test after test, logging failure after failure. He told me he would just stay a few more hours – he had something new he wanted to try, a different approach. I should have recognised the warning signs, should have talked him into going home and sleeping on it. But I was tired and frustrated myself, so I just left him there alone.
And now he’s disappeared.
When I came into the lab this morning it was empty. Jeff’s workbench was strewn with the usual detritus of an all-nighter, including results from our most recent tests and his research notebook. But Jeff himself? Gone. Not at his apartment, phone redirecting straight to voicemail. He’s vanished.
I’m afraid. I’m very afraid. What did Jeff do last night? Did he finally go too far in the name of science? Where is he? What is he? Is he trapped somewhere? Please…help me find Jeff.
Or whatever Jeff has become.
Pencil, tweezers and log roller provided. Nano log scroll is inside Jeff – please handle Jeff carefully as he is small and fragile. Kindly do not add any swappables, log books or other items to prevent damage to Jeff 🪰.