The ride was supposed to be temporary. At least that’s what Alex Holmes told the maintenance supervisor while duct-taping the final warning sign to the railing.

 

SUPERLOOP: PLEASE REMAIN SEATED. REALITY MAY SHIFT.

 

“Legal said to take out the last part,” the supervisor muttered.

 

Alex shrugged. “It’s accurate.”

 

The supervisor squinted up at the enormous chrome face mounted at the center of the ride. Its eyes glowed like smoldering coals, and its metallic proboscis pointed downward toward the tracks.

 

“Still don’t know why it needs a face,” he said.

 

Alex didn’t answer. The truth was uncomfortable.

 

Three years earlier, Alex had been a mechanical engineer who designed modestly thrilling roller coasters for regional amusement parks. Corkscrews. Gentle loops. The kind of rides that made people scream politely while holding onto a funnel cake.

 

Then he'd fallen into the wormhole.

 

Technically, it was labeled “Maintenance Shaft C,” but the universe occasionally uses different signage.

 

One moment he was inspecting a gyroscope housing, and the next he was tumbling through a tunnel made of geometry that behaved more like a suggestion than a rule.

 

Gravity happened sideways. Time folded like a cheap lawn chair. At one point, he briefly existed as a smell.

 

When he finally landed somewhere solid, he was greeted by an entity that looked suspiciously like the enormous metal face now bolted to the Superloop. It spoke directly into his thoughts.

 

YOU HAVE ENTERED THE INTERDIMENSIONAL TRANSIT AUTHORITY.

 

“Sorry,” Alex said. “I was looking for the breaker panel.”

 

THIS IS A PROHIBITED SHORTCUT.

 

“Well, the sign wasn’t clear.”

 

The creature studied him with glowing orange eyes.

 

Then it asked the question that would alter the trajectory of Alex’s entire career:

 

WHY DO YOUR SPECIES BUILD MACHINES THAT THROW THEM AROUND IN CIRCLES?

 

Alex considered this.

 

“Honestly? We’re bored.”

 

The creature paused for a long time.

 

Then it leaned forward with sudden interest.

 

Two weeks later, Alex stumbled back into Ohio.

 

No one believed him.

 

So he did the only reasonable thing: he built the ride. The Superloop debuted the following summer. It was unlike any roller coaster on Earth. Instead of simple loops, the track passed through a circular field generator Alex had built using physics he only half understood and mostly remembered from the wormhole’s orientation pamphlet.

 

Riders described their experiences in various ways:

“I saw my childhood bedroom!”

“I heard someone ordering soup in a language that tasted like electricity!”

“I shook hands with my future dentist!”

 

Then the ride returned them safely to the loading platform. Mostly.

 

Attendance tripled. People loved it. Apparently, humanity had been waiting for a ride that mildly destabilized existence.

 

What Alex hadn’t planned for was the visitor.

 

It arrived on a Tuesday afternoon. The metal face on the ride flickered to life as Alex was tightening a bolt. Its glowing eyes ignited.

 

YOU HAVE MISREPRESENTED THE TRANSIT CORRIDOR.

 

Alex sighed.

 

“You again.”

 

The creature’s voice vibrated through the ride’s structure.

 

THIS IS NOT A TRANSPORT HUB.

 

“Technically it is,” Alex said. “It just comes back to the same place.”

 

YOUR SPECIES IS USING A COSMIC PASSAGEWAY AS ENTERTAINMENT.

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

The creature paused.

 

Alex braced for annihilation.

 

Instead, the creature seemed… fascinated.

 

THEY PAY FOR THIS?

 

“Twenty-nine dollars a ticket.”

 

A long silence.

 

Then the face leaned closer, inspecting a group of teenagers climbing into the seats.

 

One of them yelled, “Dude! This one sends you through a time donut!”

 

The creature's eyes flickered thoughtfully.

 

THEY APPEAR ENTHUSIASTIC.

 

“Humans will stand in line for three hours to feel mildly nauseous,” Alex explained. “It’s kind of our thing.”

 

The ride started. The train shot forward. It blasted through the dimensional loop with a sound like the universe hiccupping.

 

For a split second, Alex and the creature both saw a medieval goat wearing sunglasses. Then the train came screaming back onto the track.

 

The riders staggered out laughing, offering unsolicited praise:

 “Best one yet!”

“I think I met God!”

“I high-fived a dinosaur!”

 

The creature stared at them. Then at Alex.

 

YOUR SPECIES IS DEEPLY STRANGE.

 

“Yeah,” Alex said.

 

The creature was quiet for a moment, then it spoke again.

 

WE WOULD LIKE TO INVEST.

 

Alex blinked. “You mean… like a partnership?”

 

THE INTERDIMENSIONAL TRANSIT AUTHORITY HAS MANY UNUSED WORMHOLES.

 

The creature tilted its massive head.

 

HAVE YOU CONSIDERED A WATER PARK?

 

Alex stared at the glowing mechanical face, then at the massive line of customers forming outside the gate. The lines around his eyes tightened at the metered smile.

 

“Buddy,” he said, “You have no idea what humans will pay if you add a splash zone.”