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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2288076-The-Mandela-Field-Manipulator
Rated: 13+ · Serial · Sci-fi · #2288076
Part 1 of the MFM series: Professor Hartford discovers the truth behind the Mandela Effect
This story is part of the MFM series.
First released on April 22, 2019.
Edited and Corrected by Ben243.





You might have heard of that Internet meme, the so called Mandela effect. It's named after the South African president Nelson Mandela, who had died in the 1990s - allegedly. There are at least some people remembering his funeral on TV, despite the fact he'd actually died years later in 2013.

There are many examples for the Mandela effect, be it the controversy about the Berenstein Bears with an E or the Monopoly Man's Monocle. Most people say it's just false memories, that people are remembering things wrong.

But there are also conspiracy theories about Alternate Realities, where everything seems the same, except for some tiny, nearly unrecognizable variations. Theories where people are unknowingly travelling from one universe to another.

Of course nobody who was right in their mind would have considered it a serious matter. Except for a Scientist named Professor Allen Hartford. For some strange reasons he was intrigued by the idea and began to research it.

He discovered the number of documented cases had increased in parallel to the expansion of the Mobile networks since the 1980s. The harmful influence of Cell phone radiation on the human brain was already a topic for years, but could it be possible that it also influences someone's brainwaves? Perhaps entwining them with that of his counterpart, in a world where - for example - Mandela had indeed died in the nineties?

Hartford theorized about something he called the "Mandela Field" and that it was just possible to exchange brainwaves in-between realities. The few colleagues he told laughed at him, and dismissed it as a poorly written Science fiction plot device. So he continued on his own, lucky enough to have his Family's fortune at his disposal.

Theoretically he could build a machine to manipulate this Mandela Field and boost the effect, so he could reach other more distant realities where the differences would be even bigger.

In the secrecy of his basement he tinkered with components he had partially "borrowed" from a few institutes or bought on the darknet. 3 years later his masterpiece had finished. The only problem was, he had to test it on someone...



One day he had a lecture in Chicago about Quantum mechanics. While on campus he stumbled over an old student of his: Me! I'd dropped out of college which, to be honest, was taking more effort than I was willing to put in at that stage. On hearing the news, my family had kicked me out and I have been living from one Odd job to the next ever since.

However, as you can imagine, I wasn't that fond of meeting my old Prof like this. Especially since he'd been the only one who really encouraged me to do more with my life. Now he stood in front of my wagon, where I was serving Hotdogs in the blazing summer heat. I thought he would judge me for what a disappointment I'd become. But instead he offered me a job.

He told me his secret and promised me a lot of cash, if I helped him with his tests. I was sick of my "Career" in the Fast food industry, so I agreed. The very next day we drove back to his house in the mountains, where he had his "Secret laboratory". I don't know what I had expected his Mandela Field Manipulator to be. Surely not that giant monstrosity hanging from the ceiling, that looked like an overwrought funnel with all sorts of Electronic stuff on it and a ridiculously high tech looking dentist chair underneath.

It made me a bit nervous as the Professor strapped me to the chair - just for Safety measures, as he said - and loaded that heavy helmet of his onto my head. After that he made some adjustments on the machine, which took quite a while. In that time I could have fetched myself a cold beer. He then asked me some questions, about how I felt, certain events, and the lyrics of songs I knew. After half an hour he finally started that thing, but all I could hear was a loud humming above me. Oh yeah, this really was Action pure!

He asked me loads of questions again. How boring, I thought. Until something remarkable happened: I remembered something wrong! Okay, that alone wouldn't qualify as a big breakthrough, but it was something I'd been really sure about, although he could prove I was mistaken.

He continued and again, after a while there was a false memory! And another one! I must confess, I'd thought this wouldn't work, that the Professor had indeed lost his marbles. But I needed the money, so I played along.

Now, as this seemed legit, I began to get nervous. He sensed it, turned the machine off and helped me out of the seat. He assured me there was no need for concerns, that he had everything under control. But if I decided to quit, he would give me the money and I could go. I have to think about it, I told him and went home.



Back in my tiny apartment I tried to get my head around what had happened. And I was puzzled why all of a sudden I could remember things I got wrong in the machine right this time. It was so weird! Like when you wake up and all the stuff in your dreams you were convinced to be true, makes no sense anymore. Later I was lying in my bed, restless. The whole thing was risky, but I had to admit, it had become quite interesting. Was it worth getting my brain fried, though?

It was way past midnight when I fell asleep, only to wake up early in the morning, still tired and in need for some coffee. Holding my cup in both hands, sipping on the milky brown fluid, looking outside to the desolate grey, to the streets even the rain couldn't free from all it's dirt and piss, I came to the conclusion there wasn't much else for me in this world. So I finally decided to continue with the experiment!



In the following days the Professor performed a lot of new tests. He asked me about recipes for meals I didn't even knew existed and I could tell him how to cook them. He told me jokes of which I found only a couple of really funny, but despite having heard them day in day out for a while I finally began to laugh about some of them. One time I even spoke Spanish which baffled me - how was I able to speak an unfamiliar language so fluidly?

One day he implanted a microchip into my neck that could extend the effects of the Mandela Field so I could use my other version's knowledge outside of the machine. After that we went to the Professor's kitchen, where I tried to prepare a Duck a l'orange, which I mastered without problems. And as the Professor was driving me home and the car broke down, I knew immediately how to fix it. It was the most incredible experience of my life. Yet, it was at that same evening things began to get out of hand.

I got a call for one of these Telephone surveys, for a questionnaire about my Internet usage! Under other circumstances I would have ended this immediately, but I was in such a good mood that I decided to answer their dumb questions, although it took me quite a while. As we'd finally finished our conversation it had become late. It was only then I remembered something the Professor had told me when he implanted the chip: Not to make too long phone calls, to make it quick, because of the Mobile radiation that could mess with the Field. I dismissed it as a one-time-mistake and went to bed.

Only minutes later I woke up from a very disturbing nightmare. Disturbing because it felt so real - too real!

I was in a war-zone in an Eastern country, Afghanistan maybe. I was a Soldier of the US Army, armed and in full combat suit. It was tight, dirty and full of sweat. We were under attack, there was dust and smoke everywhere.

Suddenly there were loud explosions, and someone shouted commands. I turned around and shot at the enemy, but I could barely see them. All of a sudden I heard a clunk noise beside me. "Grenade!!!" It was too late. The blast hit me hard and knocked me out.

When I was conscious again I couldn't hear anything but a high pitched tone. I was dizzy and as I moved I felt a burning pain in my chest. Everything was full of blood. I was panicking about the amount of blood I was loosing. I tried to call for help, but my voice was weak and my fellow soldiers already dead. I was so afraid, I don't wanted to die! Please, not this way...


That was the moment I woke up. Somehow I knew this wasn't an ordinary dream. I still could smell the smoke, taste the blood, remember the pain... I felt like I'd barely escaped the cold grasp of Death. This was definitely not good and I knew it had something to do with the experiment. So I fetched my Cell phone and called the Professor. I hadn't even reached him when...

I woke up. Again? It seemed I had nodded off. It was already late, Time to go home. To Rebecca and the kids. The Miller report could wait, I decided. Stood up, packed my case, slipped into my coat and put my hat on. On the other side of the office I could see Maurice, the Janitor. "Good night, Maurice!" I said and he replied, a friendly smile on his face. There was a mirror in the elevator. I recognized myself, but at the same time looked subtly different: The grey suit, that red tie, clean shaven. My hair trimmed, tamed and a little grayer. I looked tired and ready for a vacation, maybe in the Hamptons with the Clarksons. We could try his new... Wait... who was...?

Within the blink of an eye all was normal again, except for the Professor on the phone, who was asking who this Clarkson was I was muttering about and if everything was right. I just said: "Please come, quick!" before I hung up and threw the phone behind the sofa. While I was waiting I kept my distance from that cursed device.

On the way back to his house I told him what had happened. He tried to sound concerned, but in his undertone was also a bit of excitement. This was a breakthrough for him: Before that we could just receive information from the other side, now I'd unintentionally found a way to not only send it, but transfer my whole consciousness across the dimensions. I was now officially the first man in history who had travelled between Alternate Realities! Great! But could he stop it from happening?

Back in his lab he took a device from the shelf to turn the chip in my neck off. After that he gave me a sedative and allowed me to sleep in his Guest room. After all he still cared for me, it seemed. The next few days I postponed our sessions. He wasn't happy about it, but understood my health had to be our first concern.



After a while he asked, if we could reconstruct the incident and try to send me to another reality. I was strictly against this idea and it seemed he accepted it. Then he asked again and again, until I gave in, under the condition I could move into his Guest room - I haven't slept this well for years.

He had reactivated the chip - for now! Only to test it's influence on the experiment. Several adjustments on his machine later I entered the machine again and was a little nervous of course. Who knew where I was going? Or better: Who I would become? Professor Hartford assured me he had already a plan for that. For now we would only use safe frequencies that we had tried in our previous sessions, like where I had become a mechanic for example.

He had just started the machine, when I found myself indeed working as a Car mechanic in the front of a beautiful old Camaro SS/RS Convertible, red like the devil himself. I was wearing an oily blue Overall and as it seemed had a gut like a barrel. I definitely felt a lot heavier and as I scratched my head felt barely hair on it. Somewhere a radio was playing Country music.

"How about Thursday?" a deep manly voice behind me asked. I turned around and saw bearded Trucker, fat like me but a lot hairier. He looked a bit like Bobby Singer from Supernatural, which was odd, because I'd never seen the series before. "Thursday?!" I repeated puzzled. "Okay, then Wednesday! But you pay!" I assumed he was talking about the car and nodded.

What happened next I'd not been prepared for: With a bright grin he came over, took off his cap and gave me a long, surprisingly passionate kiss. And I kissed him back, enjoying it even. Feeling my penis getting harder and the urge to take him, here and now. But the moment passed and he was going. "And don't you worry, your parents will love me!" With that he left the workshop. And I stood there for a minute. My parents? I tried to imagine how my parents would react if I told them I was engaged to a Bear in flannel. On the other hand, they had abandoned me for less!

Back in my seat, my heart was pumping like crazy and I was in panic, from one moment to the other, which was really weird. I asked what had happened and according to Professor Hartford I wasn't the only one traveling in-between worlds after all. Apparently mechanic-me had taken my place and freaked out. I looked at the footage the Professor had filmed: Clearly it was my body, but he behaved completely differently. He really believed he'd been abducted by Aliens and almost shat his... no, MY pants! The Professor told me it was apparently a side effect of the chip we hadn't realised before and decided to keep it off for good.


I travelled into many other versions of myself. I spent an afternoon as a lawyer, had some sex with my blond Secretary and saved some poor kid from a life sentence. I was a famous TV chef like Jamie Oliver and prepared a fantastic Italian pasta with mushrooms and shrimps. My guest had been Sandra Bullock and she told me about her newest movie, while whipping the cream for our dessert - wow! I was a pilot and flew a Boing 747 to Hong Kong. A Tennis player preparing for Wimbledon. And a Mailman with bad teeth... not every version of me was that amazing, but over all I had a lot of fun!



Until one day something really unexpected happened. We tried a new frequency and nothing happened. We tried another one, with the same result. This went on and on and on... I was already suggesting we go back to the hot Heart surgeon from last time, when suddenly...

Where was I? Seemed like a cage, no a kennel! What was this, why was my lower view field...? Wait, was this... a muzzle? A noise! There was someone at the door! My heart was beating 180, my senses were sharp as hell. I felt excited, although I didn't knew why. Suddenly the outside door opened and a uniformed man came in. A cop! NYPD according to his uniform. Why am I running towards him? I lick his hands, all is shaky... he tells me that I'm a good dog! That's great! He's stroking me and I felt a wave of pleasure. He was my master, of course! I love him! I would do anything for him! Yes, the leash! Lead me out! Out at the street...

The vision stopped abruptly and I returned to my body. But things got really bad! It seemed I had a seizure! The Professor had turned off the machine and given me a syringe with a clear fluid in it that knocked me out. When I woke up I was lying in my bed, the Professor by my side. He was really concerned, even as I told him what happened!

At first he was as puzzled as me, but soon he had a theory. He tried to explain it to me as simple as possible:

My brain consists of Atoms. These are more or less the same Atoms the brains of my other selfs had too. That's basically the reason our brains were able to connect and the exchange through the Mandela Field was possible. Yet in an infinite number of realities, there were also a lot where I never existed, so my Atoms were forming something else. Objects, trees, fluids, gas... things that don't have brains. That's most likely the reason the new frequencies hadn't worked. My brain had nothing to lock on to. Until the machine had reached another life-form with a brain, consisting of a large enough percentage of the same Atoms as I had. Only that this brain wasn't human!

Within that logic I could basically become everyone and anything, as long as it had a brain, I added. No, he said. Because we had completely different brains and were therefore not entirely compatible! I was extremely lucky I'd survived this short little trip! One more time and I might never return to my own body, ending up fusing with that Dog's mind.

A horrible thought! Or so it seemed. But to be honest, after all I had experienced and all the things I had done, all the different versions of me I'd been, never had I felt that happy and fulfilled like as I did when I was this Dog. I really cared for this Police officer, although I had no idea who he was. He needed me and I needed him, that was all that mattered. After that I felt like back when my family had kicked me out - abandoned and alone. I had to cope with that. And what happened next made it much worse...



We continued our research, but it seemed the good Professor would soon end our collaboration. He had everything well documented and was already preparing a presentation at his institute. I wasn't happy about that, on the contrary: In all this time I'd lived so many versions of my life, I'd more and more lost myself. There was no ME anymore, but endless possibilities! And I didn't want it to end. My only hope was the microchip. If I reactivated it, maybe I could use it to manipulate the Mandela Field myself!

So one night I snuck down to the basement, took the device from it's shelf and turned the chip on again. To test it I ran back upstairs, fetched my cell phone and called one of these Service hotlines where you always had to wait hours to be connected. I waited and waited, listening to a bad Midi version of Mozart. After a while I considered if my plan had failed, when...

It was dark. I couldn't see anything, but i could hear the squeaking noise of leather shoes in a hallway. And I felt different, muscular, rough! Where was I? Suddenly I was hit with the light of a flashlight, but not directly, between what seemed to be... bars? Who was that guy? A prison guard? Did that mean I was a prisoner? "Go back to sleep, 4875!!!" I asked him why I was here, but he told me to shut up and went on.

In the short time I had some light I could see I had a lot of tattoos. Had I been in a Street gang or something like that? I decided to risk waking up my cellmate in the bed over me. He was naturally pissed about it, specially when I asked him what I'd done wrong to end here. At first he threatened to punch me, but when he saw I had really no clue, he told me: It seemed I had murdered my whole family for kicking me out! My Mom, my Dad and my sister Becky. I was shocked! We were never that close, but the idea I could slaughter them shocked me. How could I… The thought overwhelmed me and I blacked out.


When I returned to my senses, I found the world had shifted. To my shock, I saw I had grabbed the professor by the throat. I loosened my grip around his neck. And he fell. Oh my god, what had I done?!!! The Professor... he was... dead! I had strangled him to death!! No, not I... the other me! I had forgotten the side effect of the microchip... stupidstupidstupid...!!!

I tried to revive him, but my actions were futile. Then I cried! I just lay beside his lifeless body and cried my eyes out. Couldn't remember how much time had passed, when I finally stood up and left the room - there was nothing more I could do!

I looked out the window! It was still in the middle of the night, but I could already see the silhouettes of the mountains, in front of a deep blue sky. Soon it would be morning! Someone would try to contact the Professor sooner or later. And when they couldn't reach him, they would come! I could try to get rid of his body, but what's the use! The Police would sooner or later find out what had happened, except they would never believe it had actually been a murderous version of me from another reality! The sun had barely risen, as I made another decision...



I looked at the machine's protocols. It took me a while, but I finally found it! I was lucky the Professor hadn't deleted it. I managed to adjust the machine so it would reach out to this Police dog's mind. It was the only address I could be sure never to come back from - if my mind survived this anyway! At least I would be happy for a last time!

The machine would overheat after a while and the whole building would explode, burning down everything, leaving no traces. It was better that way! This machine was too dangerous to leave it in the hands of god knows whom!

A last time I sat back into my seat. A last time I closed my eyes. A last deep breath. Then...

I was led on a leash by my Master, Sergeant Hernandez, who gave me all sorts of commands. I obeyed immediately. We were running around a bus station... people everywhere... must stay calm. What was this scent? That one was suspicious. I dragged my handler to his direction. He told the stranger to open his backpack. Instead he runs away... and I run after him... feel the kick of the hunt... I jump... bark... rage... fear in his eyes... It's okay, stop! Good boy! I like it when he calls me a good boy! I will always serve him! He is my best friend! We.... Rrrrr... Rrrrrraff...



"I still can't believe he's dead!" - "A tragedy!" - "An absolute tragedy!" - "He was still so young, and now... burned to death!" - "I heard he was already dead when it started! Murdered in cold blood!" - "Horrible!!!" - "They found another body in the basement and it's assumed it was him!" - "Who was he? What was he doing down there?" - "No clue! There was nothing left to identify! Maybe a test subject for that mysterious project the Professor was working on." - "You mean that Mandala thingie, he had muttered about some years ago?!" - "I hope not, that idea was preposterous!" - "What about the backups he'd left on his Computer, in the institute? That could provide at least some answers!" - "That's the next mystery: Everything that was left had been stolen!" - "Oh my gosh, by whom?" - "Stupid question, as if I know!!!"



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