I cannot give you the facts to this tale, I can only offer up what I witnessed, or, at least what I think I witnessed. For centuries, humans have pondered their existence, since time before history we have invented legends and myths to explain away that which we could not fathom. Society eventually grew to an enlightened state, discarding all those old tales of monsters and demons. We found stranger things in reality, more to explore than our dreams could cover. Yet while looking out, we forget to keep an eye on what was within.
In physics you learn of a particle, quite aptly named a virtual particle. This particle was the focus of a grand new idea, a method of transmitting information, or maybe even physical objects, greater distances in far less time. It should have remained an idea, for what I created with this idea open a gateway into a reality that threatens all life in the universe.
The station was called Potaru, the word for portal in Japanese. The Union for Space Exploration had the station refit for this special project and rechristened it as Nectunt. For our exploration of the possibilities, utilizing virtual particles as a means to communicate over vast distances, the station was set into orbit around Neptune, the farthest from Earth we had gotten at this time. It was a long and boring journey, of which I spent most of my time plugging equations into the computers which would have taken decades just to write by hand.
Roberts was my lab assistant, well, really more of a computer genius. He reprogrammed all my computers to operate to my exact specifications, when others who boasted twice his training could only muster up color schemes. Often he would enter my lab space without disturbing me, tap on a nearby computer for a short time, when he left something new would be available to me that eventually became invaluable to my work. I don't quite understand how he knew what I needed and when, nor how he could so quickly create the tool, but I was grateful someone was paying attention to more than how much I was worth to their bottom line.
Lucy was the station's primary medical technician. She was well liked, a very personable doctor. Her demeanor was that of a mother hen at times, but everyone enjoyed the feeling that someone cared enough to ask how they felt every time they met. Lucy had several assistants, one was a burly phlebotomist with a cold expressionless face. John was his name, if I remember correctly. He seemed distant, detached from rest of the crew. Another was Susan, the chemist, who idolized Lucy. Susan would follow Lucy on her rounds like a puppy dog at times, a little too eager to assist her. I rarely saw or spoke in length to the other assistants.
The station's operating crew was minimal, no one expected any troubles that would require more than a skeleton crew. We had an engineer on board, I forgot his name though I did spend a lot of time speaking to him about specifications for power drain and such. I almost regret not getting to know him better. Thomas was the bridge commander, or some such, in charge of how the station operated. He was arrogant, but somehow the life of the party. Everyone else seemed somehow insignificant to me, even now I don't much care what had happened to them.
Aside from Roberts, I had three other lab assistants. Richard was utterly useless. All those degrees and not an ounce of sense. All he was capable of was monitoring censor logs and results as we progressed. Honestly, we could have done without him, and others probably wished he had not even come along.
Then there were the twins, Anabelle and Riley. Identical in genetics, and oddly identical in personality and skill. For a long time it was thought to be impossible, however living in space changes things. The two actually experienced life as one person, nothing varied. They were not connected, we had long since discarded the whole psychic link nonsense, they were just inseparable. Like all identical twins, they never left each other's side, and in the dull and bland life on a orbital station there was little chance that they would ever have differing experiences so long as they remained by each other's side. They were my walking computer, as well as the catalyst to my ideas, making them reality for me.
