- First, you have to enter the coordinates. Unfortunately, the interface is stupid. Instead of something sensible (like, say, a keypad and screen), each of the three coordinates are displayed on a separate button. Pushing a button increments its respective coordinate. If my math is right, that's potentially twenty-seven button presses when it should reasonably never be more than three. Three coordinates; three keypresses. That would make sense, right? I digress, but seriously, who designed this thing?
- Once the coordinates are in, you push the bigger fourth button and get whisked away across the network.
- The machine hums to life. A crackling bolt of energy arcs between the contacts because science is awesome and theatrical like that. Next comes that odd feeling of being dematerialized that one can never quite get used to, as if humans were never meant to be dematerialized or something. After that, you will experience a few moments of complete non-existence and the heaps of existential terror that go along with it. Fortunately, you never remember that part, and the whole process repeats itself in reverse immediately after.
- Nausea and lightheadedness are common side-effects of the re-materialization process. First-timers are usually provided with a vomit bag, particularly if the target location has carpeted floors.