Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

“Now, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Freddy said.

“But you’re about to say some real alarming shit, aren’t you?” Cane snapped back.

“That is-, I, uh, when you, well, that is,” Freddy stammered. He then deflated, defeated. “Yes.”

“Get it over with man, not like this day can get any worse,” Cane said.

“Well, at our current rate of travel, and based on our present distance from the faculty building,” Freddy said. “The batteries in these packs are not going to last long enough to make it.”

The group turned to look at Cane. He shrugged.

“Yeah, no, I was expecting something like that,” Cane said. “Like I said. Can’t get any worse.”

“You’re very good at being pessimistic,” Harley noted.

“I’ve had a lifetime of practice,” Cane said. “So us guys find some place to camp out while the ladies head forward. Works for me.”

“I would prefer that Vell could accompany us the rest of the way,” Lee said. She wanted all hands on deck when they reached the principal’s office. Any number of things could’ve gone wrong, and they had a very narrow small amount of time in which to fix it. Vell’s presence could mean the difference between success or failure.

“Why?”

“Well, he’s rather useful,” Lee said.

“Hey Fuzzie, do these backpacks have replaceable batteries?” Harley demanded. He grabbed Vell by the backpack and dangled him in the air.

“Well, yes, but the variety of battery is, well, you can only power a backpack-”

“With a battery from another backpack, yeah, that sounds right,” Harley said. “Alright, Freddy, Cane, hand them over.”

Vell was a little offended that both of them jealously grabbed on to their backpacks. Harley chose to vocalize that offense on his behalf.

“What? Vell’s good at fixing things. Whole reason you have these backpacks in the first place is because Vell showed up and got your antigrav generator fixed, Freddy.”

“I mean, yeah, but also, I don’t want to die,” Freddy said.

“Camp out in a tree or something, you’ll be fine,” Harley said.

“I don’t mind camping in a tree, but if some more of your cultist buddies come running I want a way out, you know?” Cane said. “Why don’t all three of us just chill somewhere and let the ladies handle this, Vell?”

“Well, we could do that, I guess, but, uh-”

“Let me save you about fifteen ‘uh’s’, Vell,” Harley said. She walked up to Freddy and Cane, dragged them both to the nearest tree branch, and whispered something in both their ears. Vell watched from a distance as Freddy’s pale face shifted through every existent shade of red.

Harley finished talking, and in a second, Freddy and Cane removed the batteries from their packs and handed them over to Harley. She thanked them, waved goodbye, and strode back over to Vell, handing him the two spare batteries before the trio continued on their way.

“Oh my, I wonder what on earth you promised them,” Lee said. Her thick accent made it slightly harder to parse sarcasm, but Vell managed.

“Honestly I think I kind of overdid it,” Harley said. “Freddy’s an easy sell, but Cane seems like he’s been around the block a few times, you know? I think it’s just an act, because he started sweating about halfway through.”

“Luckily they will not remember any of the surely outlandish sexual promises you made,” Lee said.

“Eh, I’ve been hoping to try some of that stuff out,” Harley said. “Maybe some other time. Slightly related question, Vell, how do you feel about cherries?”

“I’m not answering that,” Vell said.

“I said it was only slightly related,” Harley said. “I got thinking about cherries and now I really want some cherries, but the commissary only sells those half-pound containers, and I don’t want that many cherries. Do you want to split a box with me?”

“Sure, I guess,” Vell said. He did like cherries. He, did, however, have the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be able to eat them without thinking of Harley and a few tactically placed cherries.

“Sweet,” Harley said. Vell tried to banish any impure cherry-related thoughts from his head, for monogamy’s sake, and focus on getting to the principal’s office.

In spite of the fact that he was moving nearly effortlessly, Vell still felt exhausted by the time they reached the faculty building steps. The marble steps leading up to the broad doors were removed from the “lava”, so Vell lowered himself to the ground and shut off his backpack for the first time all day. It felt good to finally have solid ground beneath his feet again. Vell sat down and rested on the sturdy stones, looking at the lake of laser lava spread out in front of him. Lee and Harley found their way to the steps and sat down beside him.

“That was a mess,” Harley said.

“We should all take a moment to relax,” Lee suggested. “We’ll have to hurry to prevent this on the next loop. We should catch our breaths while we can.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Vell said.

He looked up at the sky. Overhead, a bright white sea bird, mostly undisturbed by today’s catastrophe, soared past. He wondered how many people in the college had found a way to stay alive -and sane- during the day’s events. He rarely had any time to consider the long term, since the daily apocalypses were usually sudden, violent affairs. A slow burn like this was new to Vell.

“So this Mad Max stuff happens often, huh?”

“Oh yes, survivors always band together, and dire circumstances create instabilities, so on and so forth, and then we get the doomsday cults,” Lee said. “It’s understandable, given the circumstances we often find ourselves in.”

“Lee was a god-queen once,” Harley said.

“And Harley my loyal high priestess,” Lee said with a wistful smile.

“Fuck that was a fun day,” Harley said. “I hope those agricultural guys try to invent bigger corn again.”

“How did you get cults out of big corn?”

“Competition over who has the biggest corn, naturally,” Lee said. “My rival city-state eventually created an ear of corn so large the sheer mass cracked the Earth’s crust and broke the planet. A regrettable end to an otherwise lovely afternoon.”

“We got to get Vell into the next cult,” Harley said. “I think you’d dig it. We could probably swing you a pretty high rank. You’re pretty tall, and tall people usually end up the authority in cults.”

“You will make a lovely cultist one day, Vell, I’m sure of it,” Lee said. “For now, I think it’s about time we put a stop to this.”

“Yeah, I’d like to be able to walk places again,” Vell said. He stood, stretched his legs, and hopped up a few steps towards the door. Behind him, Harley stood and helped Lee to her feet. Feet she had a tendency to trip over.

Choosing the most unfortunate possible time to fall victim to her own clumsiness, Lee’s foot slipped over the edge of the stairs. She plummeted backwards, dragging Harley, still holding tight to her wrist, with her. The two women had time to let out one short “whoops” before they hit the lava. Vell was halfway to catching them when they made impact.

He froze in place, staring at the ash, and stayed there for a minute. Then he let out a sigh.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Vell said. “Yeah. See you next loop, guys.”

He threw a half-hearted salute in the direction of the two ash piles and headed into the building.

The faculty building was, predictably, empty. All of the usual staff had either been disintegrated or fled by this time. That did not paint a flattering picture of Einstein-Odinson faculty, to Vell. Then again, the students were forming murder cults and Vell had just shrugged at the deaths of his two best friends, so nobody really came out clean in this situation.

Vell hopped behind the reception desk, finding, to his great disappointment, that somebody had already completely emptied the bowl of hard candy that was ubiquitous to every reception area. Dissatisfied, Vell focused on his mission and scanned the directory. The principal’s office was on the very top of the building, overlooking the entire campus. Vell headed up the stairs and hoped the door wasn’t locked. He hadn’t come this far to be thwarted by a simple door.

To Vell’s great surprise, not only was the door open, there was music playing. Vell cautiously approached the door and peered in through the cracks.

An elderly black man with a thick grey beard had his feet propped up on the desk, nodding his head in time to the music. He was currently digging through a stack of hard candy he had raided from the reception desk. Vell felt slightly bitter about that. He had a job to do and nothing to lose, though, so Vell stepped up and pushed the door open.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The old man looked up. In spite of the gray in his beard, his dark skin didn’t have many wrinkles, or any other signs of age, making him look a bit like he was wearing a false beard. The beard curled in on itself as the stranger smiled at Vell. He turned off the blasting music and sat up straight.

“My man,” he said. Vell recognized the same booming voice he’d heard this morning -the principal. “What brings you here?”

Vell paused for a moment. The principal was in a disturbingly good mood.

“I’m here about the lava, that’s uh, killing everybody,” Vell said.

“Sounds good,” the principal said. He grabbed another hard candy and started unwrapping it. After popping the candy into his mouth, he pointed to a tablet lying on a table in the corner of the room. “Controls are all right there. I left it unlocked.”

Vell looked at the tablet, back at the principal, and then back and forth again.

“You could’ve turned it off this whole time?”

“Yeah.”

Vell gestured to the tablet.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, this is the first loop, isn’t it?”

Vell froze again. It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with the words his ears were hearing.

“Uh, what?”

“Allow me to make a proper introduction,” the principal said. He sat upright in his seat and straightened his tie. “Isaac Goodwell, Einstein-Odinson College class of ‘73. Astrophysics major, Chess Club member, and a looper. Like yourself.”

“Vell Harlan,” Vell said, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m aware,” Isaac said. “I was notified about you and your...special circumstances, upon your enrollment.”

Isaac’s eyes briefly flitted to Vell’s waist, at the circular scar hidden beneath his shirt, and the rune that was responsible for it all.

“I wonder if the rune has anything to do with you being a looper,” Isaac wondered aloud.

“That is...a good question,” Vell said. “For later. Right now, how do you know what’s going on? They told me you aren’t supposed to remember the loops after you graduate.”

“Oh they’re right, I’m not going to remember any of this,” Isaac said. “Just saw the bodies start dropping and I could figure it out. I assume I’ve done something similar on all the previous loops.”

“Wait, wha- No! What if you’d been wrong?”

“Well then a dozen disintegrated students isn’t going to get me any less fired than a hundred are,” Isaac said with a laugh. “Might as well cut loose and enjoy myself either way.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Yeah, probably a good thing I’m not going to remember doing this stuff,” Isaac said. He smiled, then frowned. “On the other hand, I’m not going to remember eating any of this candy, either.”

He put another piece into his mouth regardless. Isaac seemed to forget about Vell for a few seconds as he focused on eating candy. He was three pieces in when he remembered Vell was watching.

“Right, anyway, about the whole ‘stopping this’ thing,” Isaac said, regaining an air of professionalism. “You’ll have to act quickly, but thankfully, we have technology.”

Isaac swallowed the last piece of candy and cleared his throat.

“You have the school chat app?”

Vell nodded. All of his chats with Lee and Harley had been on the school’s app. It was surprisingly well made, considering it was maintained by students. At a gesture from Isaac, Vell took out his phone and opened the app.

“Good, there should be a little question mark icon, then there’s a list of helpful contacts, and my name should be somewhere in there,” Isaac said. “There we go. Now, first thing in the morning on the next loop, I need you to send me a message.”

“Lijia Mian says: shut down today’s game.”

Vell didn’t even get out of bed before he sent the message. The thunderous voice of Principal Goodwell carried on with his morning message.

“In keeping with our policy that all students should be prepared for the chaotic and uncontrollable variables of paracausal sciences, we’ve instituted a new challenge this year! As soon as you exit your dorm rooms, you’ll- Hmm. Hold on.”

The thunderous voice paused. Vell held his breath.

“You’ll have to excuse me for the interruption, students, it seems we have a technical error with today’s intended game. Rest assured there will be another readiness exercise at a later date. For today, you may relax!”

Vell let out a deep sigh of relief. In spite of Isaac’s assurances, he couldn’t believe it would be as easy as sending a message. In a way, it wasn’t. Vell had only just relaxed when he felt his phone buzz. There was a message from Principal Goodwell.

“Come to my office. Now. Bring the others.”

Harley kicked up her heels. It had been a long, awkward wait so far.

“Anybody ever get sent to the principal’s office as a kid? I know this ain’t it, but it feels like it.”

“Never,” Lee said. Harley rolled her eyes.

“You had a private tutor, Lee.”

“Yes, but I never misbehaved during lecture,” Lee said. “It still counts.”

“I never was either, I was just asking,” Harley said.

The office was empty for the time being, as Principal Goodwell tended to other administrative duties. That left Vell and the other loopers to wait in silence for his arrival, giving them plenty of time to dread the coming meeting. Harley was right, the whole situation was very reminiscent of getting called to the principal’s office as a kid. A situation Vell had been more than once. His apparent death and resurrection during his childhood had made Vell a rambunctious kid, to say the least. It had been a very confusing few years.

As the wait for Isaac continued, Vell pulled out his phone. It felt odd to message a person who was sitting right next to him, but Leanne was more likely to respond to a chat message.

vharlan03:

so how did you handle yesterday

I never saw you

Galgamesh:

Oh I don’t really do that ‘challenge day’ BS

I just stepped outside and got disintegrated

vharlan03:

oh

Galgamesh:

You guys do anything fun?

Vell looked up from his phone, looked over at Lee and Harley, and then looked to Leanne and shrugged.

“Harley joined a cult,” Vell said. “Seems like she was having fun.”

He deliberately omitted the fact that Lee had gotten herself and Harley killed with clumsiness. Harley would no doubt tell the story someday, but Vell wasn’t going to be the one to spill those beans. Lee seemed self-conscious about her clumsiness. Leanne nodded at the mention of Harley joining a cult. Leanne herself had been in more than one cult the past few years. Her impressive physique made her an easy candidate for a warrior-queen. It was a pretty cushy gig, all things considered. There were worse places to be than at the top when doomsday cults were involved.

Interrupting Leanne’s introspective of her illustrious cult career, the office door slammed open. Isaac Goodwell strolled in, hands folded behind his back, and shot all the Loopers an appraising glare as he circled the room and eventually settled behind his desk.

“So, you’re the loopers this year,” he said. “Interesting bunch.”

His pale brown eyes scanned the whole group, starting with Leanne and ending with Lee. He lifted a handful of manilla envelopes -four, to be exact, one for each of them. He opened the first one.

“Vell Harlan, based on your message, I assume we’ve already met,” Isaac said.

“Technically, yes,” Vell said. Isaac nodded and opened the next folder.

“Leanne Mikkola, the school’s top athlete,” Isaac said. “As the senior member, I assume you’re in charge?”

Leanne shook her head and pointed to Lee, who gave a small, polite wave. Isaac moved on to her folder.

“Right, Miss- Miss...How do I pronounce this?”

“I go by ‘Lee’,” she said nervously.

“Lee, right.”

“And I’m Harley,” said Harley. “Now that we’re done saying everybody’s names, why are we here?”

“Well, just to sate my curiosity, at the very least,” Goodwell said. “I didn’t want much else out of this meeting than a glimpse at the new generation, personally. But maybe this old-timer can answer a few questions for you. Give some guidance.”

The four current loopers exchanged glances.

“Well, I do believe we’re doing a pretty good job, all things considered,” Lee said. “I don’t suppose you have any particular insight on the nature of the time loops?”

“Oh no, that’s a mystery,” Goodwell said. “Why when I was in the loops we didn’t even bother looking. Upperclassmen said there was no point. They were probably right. I wouldn’t waste time searching for answers if I were you.”

The room fell silent once again. This time it fell to Vell to speak up.

“Um, I have a question, actually,” Vell said. “Who, or, uh, what, is Lijia Mian? Am I pronouncing that right?”

The casual smile on Goodwell’s face dropped off.

“Right. That. I didn’t tell you anything about that on the first loop, did I?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Good to know I can still trust myself,” Isaac said. He tried to recover the smile he’d worn before, but it felt even more forced now. “It’s just the name of an old friend. Don’t worry about it.”

Isaac tapped his fingers against the desk. The repetitive thumping felt all too much like a heartbeat pounding through the room. Goodwell endured a solid two minutes of silence before realizing he was wasting his time.

“Well, you all feel free to ask your Principal for help on a case if you ever need it,” he said. “Been a while since I’ve been in the thick of all the chaos. And let me know if it’s a first loop, now and then. I’ll buy myself a pizza.”

“Of course,” Lee said. She stood up all too quickly, and nodded to the principal. “Thank you sir. We’ll be on our way.”

The loopers made their way out of the office, and out of the faculty building, with unusual haste. Harley waited until the building was far behind them to say what they were all thinking.

“Anyone else getting a really weird vibe from that guy?” Harley asked. “Like vaguely ‘obsessive’ with a hint of ‘up to something’?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Vell said. “He was sitting around eating candy and listening to ZZ Top while everybody got disintegrated.”

“Eh, I try not to judge,” Harley said. “I got laid while people were getting disintegrated. And most of our friends joined cults.”

“That’s, uh, true, I guess,” Vell said. He could hardly judge Goodwell for acting strange during an apocalypse. “Still. Weird vibes.”

“Weird vibes indeed,” Lee said with a nod.