Surface Tension (scifi flash fiction)
SURFACE TENSION
The first documented victim was a 57 year old woman from Boca Raton. Her name was Rose Stevenson, and she made a habit of being the first one in the community pool every morning. No one actually witnessed the event, but Meg Gordon, who was lounging nearby described a loud pop followed by a sound like Rice Krispies. The forensic report described the remains as “appearing to have been flattened by a steam roller.” Attempts to recover the “body” have been, thus far, unsuccessful.
That was 18 months ago, and while the scientific community is still scratching their heads about what’s causing the weirdness, I stumbled onto a solution. And, SurfTen Pool Reclamation, Inc was born.
* * *
I snap open a Relativistic Test Wand™. It’s not as fancy as it sounds, just a flexible shaft, nine feet long, bright orange, with yellow graduations that mean absolutely nothing. I make them myself, in my garage, from surplus fiberglass tent poles. I charge $175 each.
“Get ready,” I say to the homeowner, as the RTW adheres to the swimming pool surface and instantly crushes flat. The sound of the fiberglass imploding is like a gunshot. As expected, the client jumps back. I jump back also (part of my act). “Wow, that’s a nasty one.” I hold up what’s left of the pole. “We’ll need more data.”
“Can you fix it?” he asks. “Ellie, our daughter, was just about to dive in when a pool noodle rolled off the deck, into the water, and flattened into a red smear. Looked like blood. Freaked her out.”
“I’m sure,” I say. “It’s no joke. She got lucky.”
“Can’t we just drain the pool and refill it with fresh water?”
I get this question all the time, I’m prepared. “Nope, won’t do it. The surface will stay exactly as is. A laminar surface tension anomaly is not like an object we can just peel away. It’s a localized boundary layer compression that will need to be re-expanded and stabilized. Here, let me show you.”
I unsnap an orange Pelican case. “This is a specialized barometer, measures micro-regional air pressure.” I plug a tiny, disposable sensor on a long wire into the device and dangle it above the pool. “The sensors are $125 a piece, that okay? I could try to fix this without a precise reading, but I won’t be able to guarantee the fix will last (total bullshit).”
“Go ahead,” he says.
I drop the sensor onto the surface, there’s a little snap as it gets squashed, and the handheld unit lights up. I show the homeowner the readout.
“Normal atmospheric pressure at sea level is 1013.25 millibars (so much more scientific sounding than psi). The pressure at your pool water surface is 326,200 millibars, roughly equivalent to the pressure exerted on an object two miles deep in the ocean. And, just because I’m sure you’re wondering; the reason the whole pool doesn’t just get flattened down is really twofold. One, water doesn’t compress, and two, there is a corresponding pressure zone being exerted on the underside of the water’s surface. Make sense?”
He blinks a few times. “Okay, whatever,” he says. “Just fix it.”
I fire up my tablet. “Re-expansion and stabilization is $4700 and is guaranteed for 12 months. I recommend a SurfTenPMD 3000™ (patent pending), surface tension pressure monitoring device. You know, for Ellie’s sake. If the pressures reestablish themselves, the monitor sends an alert to an app on my tablet and any device you want. The monitor is an additional $850 and it comes with a three year unlimited warranty. The app is free.”
He signs.
“Great, now you should go inside and stay away from the windows just in case. The concussion created by re-expansion is no joke.”
I put on my headphones, goggles and poncho, and telescope my Surface Tension Anomaly Mitigation Device™ (it’s a speaker on a pole) out over the pool. I step on the foot pedal and the device fires a 195 decibel burst at a very specific (and proprietary) frequency, into the water. The whole pool shimmers and wobbles and then erupts.
I quickly pack my gear. There are 12 more on the schedule today, and I hear there’s a nice break at Long Beach.