The Emergency Button

“I did not see that coming.” said Traveler.

“Shame, that.” grumbled his friend.

Rædis and his friend Traveler were racing towards doom uncertain at a six hundred miles per hour in a machine they put together themselves the previous day.

Rædis was driving and Traveler was looking out of the windshield at the approaching doom. He marveled at its size and complexity. It was a city sized machine for creating other cities. An entire industrial facility that could roll along, devouring the land and leave in its path waterways, roads, power grids, etc. The infrastructure of an entire city could be laid down blocks at a time.

The problem was that they were racing in a canyon only slightly larger than the width of the machine. As they wound their way through it under Rædis’ excellent pilotage they had no way of knowing that after a certain bend in the canyon they would run right smack into the thing.

“You know, as the co-driver and therefore navigator, I blame you for this.” Rædis said unhelpfully. They were traveling way too fast to turn around as such a maneuver would drive them into the narrow canyon walls nor could they stop because the craft they were in possessed no starter and this would only delay their demise as the juggernaut that was the infrastructure machine would eventually plow them over.

The choice to not include a starter was both a weight saving decision as well as a time saving one since, as noted, they only knocked this vehicle together the day before.

Traveler was undaunted by his friend’s pessimism. It was at times like this that despite his aloofness, unsentimental detachment, copious drug use and quixotic tendencies, he was astoundingly capable. His four dimensional thought had been so honed over time that, in situations of extreme stress, his ability to see the most favorable outcome of numerous possibilities and act on them without hesitation had become instinctual. He lived for times like this.

This was not to say he was reckless or precipitous in his passion for thrill seeking. He would not be a successful time traveler were those among his dominant characteristics. He would very probably just be dead. But he did enjoy pressing his skills and luck to the limit every now and again. He would not be a successful racing driver if he didn’t.

Fortunately for the two friends, although they didn’t know it just yet, as well as not including a starter, they did include the ‘Ikdid’. This was an inscrutable piece of apparently obsolete racing equipment Rædis had purchased far in the future on a whim during one of their temporal excursions. His rationale was, if it was obsolete so far ahead in time then back in their own era, it may prove to be useful. Or, at the very least, amusing. However, despite numerous experiments in a variety of vehicles it had failed to produce any effect what so ever.

The component itself was rectangular, about the size of a match box. Within it, Traveler once observed as Rædis was working on it, were more moving parts than he had ever seen in such a small package. It also contained a single, very friendly looking, circular button that when powered, lit up the most reassuring shade of green Traveler had ever seen.

Rædis slowed the vehicle as much as possible without causing it to stall. This bought them the few precious seconds Traveler needed to decide what to do.

“I’m gonna try the Ikdid.” he announced.

“Please do.” Rædis said as there was no other option. He need not have Traveler’s unique perception to realize this. Traveler reached out and flipped up the clear cover Rædis had installed over the button and mashed it with a gloved finger. The thing then did something that, in all of their previous attempts to activate it, it had never done before. It began to blink rapidly. They both looked at each other, astonished then back at the button. It then did a second amazing thing. It changed color. The button changed from its happy green hue to an alarming and rather frightening bright red. It also emitted a sound that no one would mistake for anything but an alarm.