Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Long forgotten
"You seem very tired, Doctor. We’d be happy to escort you to your room," a woman said. She and two other guards were walking alongside Jimmy.
"Oh, no, don’t worry," Jimmy replied, still trying to pass as Dr. Phil-Sedi. "I’m fine. Just... blacked out a little."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yes. Yes, I am," he insisted.
Seeing his firm response, they backed away. "Alright, sir. We’ll leave you to it." The three of them took their leave, disappearing around a corner.
The moment they were gone, Jimmy sprinted to his room, locking the door behind him. He then lunged onto Hal’s bed, aggressively shaking his friend.
"Hal... Hal, wake up. Wake up!" he whispered urgently, tapping his friend’s face. "Wake up, Hal, it’s important!"
"Huh? Just ten more minutes," Hal mumbled, half-asleep. "My high score... I have to beat my highest score..." He rolled over.
Seeing that his friend was too deep in slumber, Jimmy knew he had to use a more drastic method.
"HAL!"
He delivered a sharp slap to Hal’s cheek. The sound was a loud smack in the quiet room.
Hal’s eyes shot open. The sleep was instantly gone. "Dude, what the hell?!" he yelled, both hands flying to his face to rub the stinging warmth from his cheek.
"Blackmoor," Jimmy said, a wide, excited grin on his face.
"What?" Hal responded, still dazed.
"Blackmoor! Eric Blackmoor! He’s here! In Atlas Tower!" Jimmy’s voice was a frantic, happy squeal.
"May I ask why you slapped me in my....." Hal’s voice rose, but Jimmy clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Look, I’m sorry about the slap, but you have to listen to me!" Jimmy pleaded, his eyes wide.
Hal pushed his hand away. "I don’t care about your apology, dude, my face is on fire!"
"Alright, fine! Fine. I’ll make it up to you," Jimmy said, trying to be as apologetic as possible.
"Dude, what could possibly make up for the slap you—"
"I’ll buy you a king-sized pizza with extra pepperonis, two medium chicken buckets, and a bowl of ice cream!" Jimmy blurted out, the words a rapid-fire promise.
Hal’s fiery expression instantly melted into a cooperative grin. "Yes, Eric Blackmoor. Haha," he said, the anger gone. He then paused, the smile fading. "Wait. Who is he?"
The question hit Jimmy like a punch to the gut. The excitement on his face drained away, replaced by confusion and disbelief. "What do you mean, who is he?"
Hal’s expression was bored and unamused. "Are you going to tell me who he is, or not? Because I’m seriously ready to go back to bed."
"What are you talking about? Eric Blackmoor! He’s one of the greatest scientists way ahead of his time," Jimmy insisted. "The first human to successfully create a pocket universe. The guy who invented Level 5 Quantum Encryption that almost every technology uses today!"
But nothing clicked for Hal. He just stared blankly.
"If he was so important, I would’ve heard of him," Hal said, beginning to rearrange his bed. "The truth is, that name is completely unfamiliar."
Watching his friend, Jimmy’s heart sank. He got off the bed, a wave of concern washing over him. He remembered a similar moment when he was a kid, back in class, when no one knew the name Eric Blackmoor. It was the same blank stare, the same lack of recognition.
Hal flopped back onto his pillow. "Now that we’re done here, I can finally get some sleep. And don’t you dare hit me again." He was asleep within seconds.
Jimmy walked to his own bed and took off his jacket, his mind racing. He lay down, his thoughts consumed by the mystery. "What’s going on?" he whispered to himself.
He remembered why he knew the name. His father, a renowned scientist, had a secret archive on his computer. It was a digital vault filled with data of all kinds, and buried within it was a folder containing a deep-dive documentary on Eric Blackmoor.
His father had been fascinated by the man, trying to replicate his work, but it had been impossible, Blackmoor’s innovations were too complex and uniquely his own.
Ever since then, Jimmy had become obsessed with the man’s work, his mind, and his methods. But the archive was deleted when his father discovered Jimmy had secretly accessed it for months. Jimmy was only twelve years old at the time.
"Eric Blackmoor," he whispered to the dark room, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. "How is it possible that no one knows who you are?"
He felt a new sense of unease. "Come to think of it, Dad was never in the mood to talk about him whenever I brought it up," he said. "And what happened eighteen years ago? I heard them talking about it... Does it have something to do with all of this?"
Jimmy closed his eyes, a new mission forming in his mind. He would find the answers himself. "Guess I’ll have to find out for myself tomorrow."