text: The Transporter Museum, a forgotten relic, is inconveniently located on a deserted side street two turns off a dead-end alley. You might never find it, even by accident, but if you do, you’ll always remember its immaculate displays and its eccentric proprietor, Frans Messerschmitt. Every day precisely at nine, the little old man illuminated the neon sign, flipped the placard to open, and made his way behind the counter, prepared for customers who rarely came. It was already late in the day when the door opened, surprising both Frans and the visitors. “Hello, is anybody there?” The question startled Frans, interrupting his terminal boredom. “Yes. Yes, please come in,” he answered, moving forward to greet his guests. The unexpected voice belonged to a handsome lad sporting sweatpants and a football jersey, followed closely by a pretty young coed in a letterman’s jacket. “It’s almost impossible to find this place," the boy mentioned, all the while looking at the meticulously cared-for exhibits. “Are we in time for the guided tour?” The question struck Frans as funny. It had been months since his last visitor, so the tours relied on guests, not the other way around. “Of course, my good man,” he answered, sauntering from behind the counter. “My name is Frans and I'm the owner and resident historian. I’d be glad to give you the nickel tour, and I won’t even charge you the nickel.” “Fan-damn-tastic! My name is Billy, and this is Connie. We’ve really been looking forward to this. Where do we start?” “I’m glad you asked,” Frans replied, beckoning the couple to follow. “You’ve lived your whole lives in a time where teleportation from one side of the world to another was the norm--in fact, there’s about to be an app for that!” Frans turned their attention towards a smartphone sitting on display. “Before the end of the year, the new ZapApp will be available, offering skin-touch technology for the first time. All you’ll need to do is enter the desired coordinates, activate the app, and, in seconds--Voila!” “Wow,” Billy exclaimed, reaching for the phone. “Please don’t,” Frans cautioned. “These are replicas and can be easily damaged.” “I hear ya, Gramps,” Billy responded, “Oh, I’m sorry. No disrespect intended, sir.” “Not at all,” Frans replied. “I’ve always wanted a nickname. I like the sound of Gramps. Now if you follow me, I’ll lead you both back in time.” The next display contained a full-length mirror attached to the wall. “I’m sure you two know what this is,” Frans said, stepping aside and allowing Billy and Connie to see. “These teleportation devices are still the most commonly used today. They were part of a trend to make teleportation more accessible and less obtrusive. They were also the first devices that didn’t require an exit portal. Until the Mirror 360, you could only travel to locations with paired devices. Needless to say, it was revolutionary.” “That’s just like yours,” Connie whispered to Billy, punctuating her remark with a kiss on his cheek. “What’s next, Mr. Frans?” “ Gramps ,” Frans corrected her with a chuckle. “Next we see the machine that started it all, The Marie.” “I’ve heard of that,” Billy said. “Wow, it’s huge!” “I know,” Frans agreed. “When the technology was new, we hadn’t yet perfected the art of miniaturization. There were no personal teleportation devices. The only people who had access were scientists, investors, and celebrities. In fact, the first transporters were more gimmicky than useful. They were incredibly expensive, required an entrance and exit port, and were so inefficient that it took a full day’s charge to send someone from one place to another. There’s no doubt we’ve come a long way since then.” “What about that one?” Billy asked, pointing to a machine partially hidden by a curtain. “Oh, that one,” Frans sighed. “That’s the prototype. The first teleportation device.” “That's the original?" Billy asked, moving closer to get a better look. "Is the legend true?” “I'm afraid it is,” Frans replied. “The machine was the brainchild of a pair of scientists not much older than the two of you. They were the first to prove light was a particle and that we could use it as a mechanism for distance teleportation. The early tests were extremely successful. There were no issues when sending inanimate objects or small animals from one pod to another. The problem occurred when they tried transporting a human. Marie begged to be first and, after winning a game of Rochambeau, she stepped into the entrance pod and disappeared on cue. But when her partner activated the exit pod, everything went terribly wrong. Marie never fully rematerialized. Her translucent hand simply reached forward, and she mouthed the word help . Then she faded away.” “Oh my God!” Connie gasped. "Did he save her?” Frans turned away from the question, paused, then finally answered. “No, he didn’t. You see, molecular displacement teleportation in its infancy was like sending something through a tunnel at light speed. Once entering a pod, the subject can only exit from the paired terminal port.” "That's tragic," Connie said, wiping away a tear. “And ironic.” Frans replied. “How so?” “After the colossal mishap, her partner spent the better part of twenty years trying to find a way to release Marie from her tunnel. He became obsessed with correcting his mistake. His research and technological breakthroughs are directly responsible for almost every advancement in teleportation technology. That first awful outcome is why molecular transportation is so incredibly safe today. It’s why you have a Mirror 360 hanging on the wall in your home.” “But Marie--what happened to her?” Connie asked. “All of her partner’s research and all of his calculations never changed Marie’s fate.” “She’s trapped forever?” “She would be, unless he destroyed the machine and released her molecules into the atmosphere, never to be reassembled again.” “What did he...” “It’s almost closing time,” Frans said, interrupting Connie before she could finish the question. “Thanks for coming. You two made an old man very happy today.” “This has been the best tour ever, Gramps.” Billy proclaimed. “What do I owe you?” “Nothing,” Frans answered, shaking Billy's hand. “Just promise to send your friends.” “It’s a deal,” he said, leading Connie out the door. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon.” “You’re always welcome.” Frans watched as the couple walked away. Then, being that it was precisely five, he locked the door, changed the placard to closed, and turned off the neon sign. Alone once again, Frans returned to the machine behind the curtain, flipped a few switches, and watched as Marie’s translucent figure, forever young, appeared before him. “Frans, are you there?” Marie mouthed, silently. “I'm here, my love. I’ll always be here.” “I’m so afraid,” she responded. “Please let me go.” “I can’t,” Frans replied, ashamed of his weakness. Marie’s eyes grew red, but she summoned the strength to place her hand on her heart and mouth the words I love you. Then, as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. Heartbroken, Frans turned to walk upstairs, counting the minutes until he could see his love again, if only for a moment, the next day at the exact same time.