Thorod Ashstaff
First Post
Here it is, judges.
The Ending of Worlds
John laughed. Frank’s expression was definitely worth the price of lunch.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“Nope, dead serious,” John said. Frank groaned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist that one. But no joke, tomorrow’s connect is for the universe of ‘Night of the Living Dead.’”
“I can’t believe there’s enough George Romero fans to pull in that universe.”
“Have you heard the research from Princeton? Philmont’s saying the threshold should be lowered to 12 million.12 million minds wanting the same world to exist, and that world’s membrane will be pulled close enough for a connect.”
“So there’s 12 million nutcases out there who want to be trapped in a farmhouse by flesh-eating ghouls?”
“It doesn’t work like that. All you need is a suspension of disbelief, even for an hour, and the real membrane that matches the fictional world will shift in the multiverse froth, getting closer to our own. After that it’s just a matter of the calculations.”
“Sure John, just the calculations. Out of the ten billion people on Earth, how many of them are smart enough to understand the math behind membrane universe connections. Fifteen?”
“More like thirty. Six here at Stanford Linear, Philmont and Ortega at Princeton, another dozen at CERN, who knows how many in China. And Dr. Kelin herself, who started it all back in ’13, though she’s gone incognito.”
“I heard she’s gone completely wacko.” The old rumor again, padded cells for the multiverse mathematicians. Some of it was even true.
“How goes the divorce?” Frank asked, and for once John was grateful to talk about something else.
“Not good, she’s convinced the judge that mathematicians make lousy fathers, and she’s getting custody. Vicki’s coming to stay with me for a week though, next month.”
A young woman approached their table. She was dressed in black, with a pink badge that identified her as a private courier.
“Dr. John Florian?” the girl asked.
“Yes?”
“Private download for you, priority, coded for isolated systems only, from Dr. Angela Ortega. Sign here please.” She held out a reader, and John slipped his finger in to be pricked. She handed him a minidisk, and walked out of the cafe.
John stood up. “Gotta go, Frank, I’ve spent too long talking. I need to get back to the lab for the state-mandated orientation, give my spiel to the paying customers.” He didn’t mention the disk, and Frank didn’t ask. Angela Ortega, John thought. What did she need to say to him on an isolated system? Ortega was the only person John knew, other than Dr. Kelin herself, who was as good at Alterworld mathematics as he was, and she’d dropped out of sight just two weeks ago; the padded-cell rumors were already in the air.
“Tell me, John, how many people are rich and crazy enough to drop two million euros for a one-way trip to a world full of flesh-eating ghouls?”
“Four. There are actually four people out there who think they’d rather live in Romero’s freak show than on Earth.”
Frank laughed, and walked out of the cafe shaking his head.
Theories of the multiverse froth had been around since the turn of the century, but it wasn’t until 2015, when Dr. Faith Kelin’s Unified String Theory was verified at CERN, that people accepted a universe of universes. The theory even gave a number, 10 to the 128th, approximately. That was a lot of universes. Two years later, Kelin published her general multiverse theory, and membrane mathematics entered the real world. Soon people were making the leap to alternate Earths.
Alterworld Eden was the first. Then there was Alt-Jurassic; people loved their dinosaurs. Then Alt-Middle Earth, of course, and Alt-Faerun. By 2025 there had been 97 connects, to two-dozen unique universes, and over three thousand people had passed through. It was a one-way trip, no return ticket, and it wasn’t cheap, the power required to make a connect was enormous. The people who put their two million euros on the table knew what they were doing, but John still had to give a safety lecture to everyone. Even four nuts who wanted to live out the rest of their likely very short lives in a world of flesh-eating ghouls.
The lecture was painful, [classlessons.jpg] but, like always, they signed the bottom line at the end of the day. Alterworldcorp was ten million euros richer, and by tomorrow afternoon the world would have four fewer millionaires.
When John was finally able to get away, he went straight to his office and slipped Angela’s disk into his palmreader. Angela popped up, a three-inch hologram.
“Hello Dr. Florian,” the miniature Angela said, “I trust you are well. I need you to think something through for me, a seismic matter. Remember Reykjavik? Decisions? Philmont’s reservations? I want you to think about .03 seconds, and then I want you to think about butterflies, dead ones. I need to meet with you, Saturday. I’ll be with an old lady of your acquaintance, who you will want to see. Two o’clock, across from Chin’s, in the city. Please come alone.”
‘Seismic,’ John thought, ‘Earth shaking?’ Some of it was obvious, the Reykjavik conference was where Alterworldcorp had decided to allow connects to other universes at whatever time-stamp the customer wanted, Philmont had objected on moral grounds. Connects had started out cautious, only allowing a connect to Alt-Middle Earth after the ring was destroyed, say, or before it was made. But the restriction was dropped at Reykjavik. The rest of the message was harder; .03 seconds was how long operators like John could see into the connected universe, a brief glimpse that could not be recorded, thanks to quantum fluctuations. But dead butterflies? John was at a loss.
But he’d already decided to go, because of the last part. Dr. Faith Kelin had always called herself “the old woman,” so had her students. John and Angela had studied under Faith when they were at Cambridge, so it must be her. If this was big enough for the most brilliant mind since Einstein to break her self-imposed exile, then there was no way in hell John wasn’t going to be there. John went home, but when he finally fell asleep he still hadn’t figured it out.
Two hours later he was up. He’d dreamt of hunting dinosaurs, with a modern rifle, and stepping on a butterfly. As soon as he was awake he knew he had it, a story he’d read. He connected his wristpilot to the net, and a few keystrokes later he was re-reading the story. Bradbury, time travel, the old plot about small changes making a big difference. But travel to other universes wasn’t time travel, and except for Alterworldcorp getting rich, it wasn’t changing the world. At least not this one. Lord, he though, is it that?
The connect to Alt-Romero went off without a hitch, and John caught a .03 second glimpse of an old farmhouse in the distance as the four travelers vanished from the accelerator platform. He shivered, partly for the nutcases who wanted to live in a world of zombies, partly in anticipation of Saturday.
By Saturday John was getting worried. The day before, two execs had shown up at the lab. They wanted to know if John had heard from Dr. Ortega. More disturbing, they reminded him of the contract he’d signed with Alterworldcorp after Reykjavik, the one where he’d sold his soul in exchange for a truly obscene salary.
He was early, but there they were, standing in front of a dress shop across from Chin’s. [thecoolkids.jpg] Angela was leaning against the shop window, she had a wary look. The old woman was there too, smoking as always, and of course carrying her thermos of spiked espresso.
When she saw John, Faith hugged him. “Thank god,” she said. “I’m so glad you came. We tried to get Lowther as well, but I think our message to him got intercepted. Come on, let’s take a walk.”
“Good to see you too, old woman, and you, Angela,” John said. “I thought all the cloak and dagger stuff was just a joke, until two corporate execs in black suits walked into my lab yesterday. What’s this about?”
“You know Philmont’s theory,” Faith began, “that there’s no guarantee that the universe will still match after contact?”
“I remember. He was adamant, but I thought his math was shaky at best. And we’ll never know, will we? There’s no way to record the glimpse we get of the other universe, and there’s no way to come back. You taught me that, remember?”
“I taught you that, but I was wrong. Dr. Ortega and her colleagues have managed to make images of a connect, though Alterworldcorp clamped down on them as soon as they saw the pictures. That’s when she decided to disappear.”
“How did you get around the quantum fluctuations?” John asked Angela.
“We phase-matched the peak-trough functions of each photon. But we have bigger matters to discuss.”
“Indeed,” Faith said, “much bigger. Here, take a look at this.” Faith opened a plastic sandwich box and took out two holograms, handing one to John. The hologram was a shot of Hogwarts School, shining and huge, seen from across a dark lake. John recognized it at once.
“This is from Alterworld Potter,” John said. “I made this connect once myself, and I was almost tempted to follow the customers through when I saw this. It’s beautiful!”
“Was beautiful,” Faith said. “That shot was the first one taken at a connect by Dr. Ortega’s team in Europe, back in January. You know how popular Alt-Potter is, top of the list. They did two Alt-Potter connects this year at CERN, and took images of both. Here, take a look.”
Faith handed John the second hologram, and he stared at it in silence, not wanting to believe it. Hogwarts was a smoking ruin, and black birds flew above the remains of the building. The lake was gone, replaced by a swamp littered with decomposing bodies, giant serpents, and even a few heads stuck on pikes. It was a nightmare.
“But this is impossible!” John said. “Nowhere in Rowling’s universe does this happen, it looks like Voldemort’s won and killed everybody. How many did we send through on this connect?”
“Seventeen,” Faith said. “Seventeen people who were expecting Hogwarts, and got this. No doubt they are already dead, and two of them were teenagers.”
“Let’s go back to my house,” John said. You can both stay there until we get this figured out.”
They were silent on the way back; John had a lot to think about. At the house the made espresso, and John looked at the two holograms again.
“But who did this?” he said.
“We did, John. You and I and Dr. Ortega, and all our colleagues who went mad figuring it all out. My theory, your math, Alterworldcorp’s greed. We sent people back at whatever time stamp they, and their money, demanded, and this is the result. Somebody we sent through must have tried to help, or got captured and gave away something about Alt-Potter’s timeline, and changed it all. We destroyed a world, John, an entire world.”
“What else?” John asked. “Have you imaged any other worlds?”
“No, Alterworldcorp shut Dr. Ortega’s team down right after this image was released. I don’t even want to think about Alt-Middle Earth, that whole timeline was on a knife-edge anyway. That’s why Angela hunted me down, because we have to stop them. Alterworldcorp’s profits are based on a promise to their customers that is no longer true, does it surprise you that they want to keep this secret?”
“Are we sure? Maybe CERN made a connect with the wrong membrane.”
“Maybe. Every day I hope that’s what happened, but every morning I wake up from nightmares. That’s why we contacted you, John. We knew we could trust you, and we need to test this. We need to know for sure. We want you to go through a connect, an unofficial connect, and check things out.”
“A one-way trip? And how exactly would that help us?”
“I think there’s a way for you to come back.”
From any other person in the world, even Angela or Dr. Philmont, he would have dismissed the idea as impossible. But this was the old woman, this was Dr. Faith Kelin. If she said there was a way, there was a way.
“Okay, I’m listening,” John said. “How?”
“It involves quantum super symmetry, taking a whole and creating a duality, a symmetrical, opposite being at the moment of connection. The two beings will enter the connect, but both membrane universes will resist it, and one of the beings will be spat back into our universe. The multiverse froth will force the issue, trying to maintain its own symmetry.”
“So this person,” John said, trying to absorb the concept, “goes through…I go through the connect as two of me, and then one comes back out? How long would I, or at least one of me, have?”
“I can’t tell,” Faith said. “More than an hour, less than three.”
“We have to try, John,” Angela said. “If these holograms are true, we aren’t just mathematicians anymore, we’re mass murderers. Destroyers of worlds. I’d do it, but if I set foot anywhere near CERN I’ll be arrested. We need someone with access to an accelerator, with the mind to do the final calculations, and someone Alterworldcorp still trusts. That pretty much narrows it down to two men, and it looks like the corporation execs got to Dr. Lowther first, which leaves you. Dr. John Florian.”
“Great, that makes me feel so much better,” John said. “This is real, isn’t it, this is really happening?”
“Yes,” Faith said, “I’m afraid so. Will you do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Good. I never had any doubt. You know there’s a chance I’m wrong, don’t you Johnnie? That it will be a one-way trip after all.”
“Thanks for bringing that up so delicately, old woman. I’ll accept the risk; one life against the lives of whole worlds seems like a small enough price. If I say no I’ll be having my own nightmares every night. Do I need to connect with Alt-Potter?”
“Doesn’t have to be. Any universe we’ve connected to more than once will work, as long as you know it well enough to see if we’re doing damage.”
“Then I’m going to Alt-Jurassic, I’ve made that connect three times. Besides, if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll get a chance to see a dinosaur before I die. I’ll have the numbers ready by Monday night, but I’ll need one of you working the machine, I can’t think of anybody else here I could trust.”
“How about both of us?” Angela asked. “After all, it was our proposal.”
“Both, good, then it can’t fail.”
The three made their plans, staying at John’s house and trying to keep out of sight, and by Monday night they were ready. John had the access codes, but he knew they would need to pass the night guard, a grad student named Lee.
“Why don’t we try the direct approach?” asked Faith. “It beats shooting him.”
“The direct approach?” John asked.
“Sure. He’s a physics student, and I’m a Legend, remember?”
Two hours later they were walking through the front doors of Stanford Linear, acting as if they had every reason in the world to be there. Faith had been right, as soon as Lee saw who was walking up to his desk, his jaw dropped, and he spilled his soda scrambling to stand up.
“You’re…you’re Doctor….oh my god…” he stammered. He never got a chance to finish the thought, because Angela had walked behind him and clocked him with her handbag, loaded with rolls of quarters. They left Lee sleeping in a pool of Dr. Pepper, and headed inside.
“Too easy,” Faith said, “after tonight there will be Marines at that door.”
They time-stamped the Alt-Jurassic connect to several centuries after the last one, to make sure, and input the calculations.
“If I don’t come back,” John said, “there’s a letter for Vicki on my wristpilot. And I want you to show her those two holograms, maybe then she’ll understand. She loves Rowling’s universe almost as much as she loves Monte’s universe.”
“Shush, Johnnie,” Faith said. “You’ll be back in an hour.” She hit the button.
John looked up. John looked up.
“And I thought quantum math was weird!” he/they said, not quite simultaneously. He/they laughed, a little farther apart this time around. “Jinx!” he/they said, pointing at each other, and the words were almost half a second apart this time. Soon he had become they.
“Okay, let’s do this,” John said. “Yes,” John said, “we might not have much time.”
The two Johns looked around, and realized that things were definitely not okay.
“No ferns,” John said. “No trees,” John responded. “Definitely no dinosaurs, or people either, for that matter,” John replied. “And it’s cold,” John answered, “too cold.” “Way too cold for this universe,” John said.
They headed inland, trying to find something that looked right. Half an hour later they came across the first bones, and picked a large breastbone out of the sand.
“Dinosaur?” John asked. “What else,” John answered. The bone snapped, though they were holding it gently. [wishupona…jpg]
“It’s falling apart!” John exclaimed. “What could make a bone this brittle?” John asked. “Radiation,” both Johns said, back in sync.
They began hiking again, almost running. Eventually they came across the ruins of a town, or a city, though with what was left it was hard to tell. There was smoke here, coming from the center of the ruins, and John and John headed for it. They found a campsite, twenty people dressed in thin leather skins. The people took one look at the two Johns and ran off, screaming. All except one very old man.
“Yu ar twins? Whar do yu com frumm, yu lookk lek de ancesstorss!” the old man said. English, but changed.
John and John sat with the old man, and he told them. The ancestors had come to this world, where people and dinosaurs lived side by side, and at first they joined easily with the human tribes. They said they were from another universe, and had traveled here to live with the dinosaurs. Then one came who wanted to teach the ways of his universe, so everyone, dinosaurs and humans both, could live better. He taught everything, even about energy that was far more powerful than the black powder the raptors used. The humans didn’t have the technology to mine for his radioactive ores, or convert them to power, but the raptors did. Soon the raptor cities glowed with light, and they thought of using their new power to make ships that could travel in space. But war came first, war between raptor cities on opposite sides of the world.
The war destroyed the world, and only a few humans survived. The old man remembered, and his description of the poisonous clouds made John and John even colder than the air. Suddenly John stood up.
“I feel strange,” John said, “I think it might be me.” “I don’t want to die here,” John replied. “We did this,” John answered, “we did all this.” “I know,” John said, but his voice sounded faint, “you have to stop it, you have to!” “I will.”
And then he was back, standing on the platform, and he was crying, sobbing, falling to his knees. Angela was there, her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to die there,” he cried, “and I didn’t even say goodbye.”
“What?” Angela said, confused.
“I never thought much about what it would be like if it worked. I’m back there, and it’s awful, everything we feared. A world destroyed, a nuclear wasteland. And I have to live out, I mean he, he has to live out the rest of his days in that hell!”
“It’s almost dawn,” Faith said. “Lets get you home. I’m sure they’ve registered the power drain by now, and the police are probably on their way.”
They made it back to John’s house, and somehow managed to stay out of jail. As far as Alterworldcorp knew, Dr. Ortega was still missing, and Dr. Kelin was just a mad recluse somewhere. John was under investigation, but word of Dr. Ortega’s holograms had leaked out in Europe, and CERN was a hornet’s nest. Several of the top mathematicians were refusing to make connects until the public was told the truth, and the corporate execs knew they were running out of minds that could handle the computations.
In less than a week, John went from being suspect to being their prized genius. Alterworldcorp offered stock options, on the condition that he would do the calculations for the Stanford connects, and stay silent on the rumors coming out of CERN.
Each night, back at his house, the three conspirators discussed what they could do. Faith was willing to go to the press, but they feared Alterworldcorp would stop her before her story ever made it out. Angela and John were thinking of more drastic measures.
Then they were out of time. Alterworldcorp had moved a CERN connect to California, telling the media that CERN was down for upgrades. John was told to make the calculations, and the connect was scheduled in two days. It was Alt-Monte, a universe second only to Alt-Potter in popularity. The Manguel Monte fantasies had come out in 2012, and were still on the best-seller lists. His world was full of Brazilian magic and love, and adventure, with no technology and no evil wizards. It was a natural for Alterworldcorp, and this would be the third connect.
“You know I can’t do it,” John said that night. “Not knowing what we know. I won’t be party to destroying another world, especially not this one. I read those books to my daughter when she was little, they’re incredible!”
“Of course not,” Faith said. “We have to stop them now, and it has to be in a way that they can’t recover from, ever.”
“We need something big,” John said, “so let’s give them something big. Let’s blow the accelerator.”
They fell silent, though no one was shocked at the idea. Finally Faith said, “Okay, let’s do it. It may be the only thing that will get the world’s attention, and bring Alterworldcorp down. I just wish one of us didn’t have to die doing it.”
“Nobody is going to die,” John said. “I have an idea on that…” There was a click, and the front door opened. They all jumped, thinking that Alterworldcorp had discovered them at last. But at the door was just a little girl holding a suitcase, and wearing one of those ‘new style’ red hats that John found so hideous.
“Vicki!” John said, running to embrace his daughter. “I thought I was picking you up at the airport next week?”
“I left, dad, I’m sorry. I had to leave. Mom’s new boyfriend, he tried to…he wanted to touch me, so I ran. I used your credit code, and took the ballistic from New York.” Vicki started crying, and John just held her until she stopped. Faith and Angela let them have their space.
John wanted to go kill his ex’s boyfriend, but for Vicki’s sake he pushed the feeling aside. “Don’t be sorry, Pumpkin,” he said, “don’t ever be sorry for something somebody else did. Are you okay?”
“I am now, now that I’m here. But I’m not going back, I don’t care what the judge says.”
“No, you’re not going back. Nobody would make you go back now.”
“But mom’s going to be so mad, and I just jumped in on you. I should have called from the ballistic, I didn’t know you’d have people here.”
“It’s okay, we can deal with your mom later. Vicki, this is Dr. Ortega, and my old teacher Dr. Kelin. Faith, Angela, this is my daughter.”
“Dr. Kelin?” Vicki asked, her eyes wide. “Dr. Kelin the genius, who figured out all the billions of universes and then disappeared?”
“Yes, dear,” Faith said, “that’s me. But don’t call me ‘the genius,’ call me Faith, I’d like that better.”
“John,” Angela said, “you and your daughter have a lot to talk about, but the Alt-Monte connect is the day after tomorrow, and you said you had an idea about our situation?”
“Yes, I do. But you both need to know that I’ve made a promise that I would never keep anything from my daughter, anything. Our ‘situation’ is going to be hot news soon, no matter what happens, and I’d rather she hear about it from us than from the newsvids.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Faith said. “Little one, how much has your dad taught you about what he does at Stanford Linear?”
“A lot. I can’t do any of the string math or the membrane stuff, but I’m the best in my school at quantum electrodynamic equations!”
“Well,” Faith said, laughing, “I can see this won’t be so hard to explain after all. Let’s make some espresso; it’s going to be a long night. Vicki, do you drink coffee yet?”
“Yes, Dr. Kelin, I mean Faith. I’ll have one.”
“Good for you Vicki, I’m liking you more by the minute.”
It was a long night. Vicki told them about her mom’s boyfriend, and then Faith told Vicki about what they’d discovered. Afterwards she sat for a long time, staring at the two holograms from Alt-Potter.
“I’ll help you,” Vicki said suddenly, “I’ll help you blow the place up! This is terrible, this is like what mom’s boyfriend tried to do to me, except we did it to a world full of people, a whole universe!”
“Yes,” Faith said sadly, “to at least two worlds, maybe more. John, your daughter has guts, but we need a plan. You said you had an idea?”
“We know that to blow the accelerator, you just change one variable in the calculations, but the calculations have to be made from inside, it’s an isolated system. It’s the input point that’s our stumbling block. But what if someone made the calculations from the platform itself? Then they would go through, exactly .03 seconds before the accelerator blew.”
“I’ll do it,” Angela said, “if we can figure out a way to get me inside. Your daughter needs you now, and my kids are grown.”
“But they’ve got the lab locked up tight,” John said. “I can still get in, but we can’t just knock out a grad student this time, we’re talking lots of men, with guns.”
“Dad, do you think they’d let me in with you?” Vicki asked.
“I imagine they would, Pumpkin, but how would that help?”
“Dad,” she said, “I think you and I should both run away, really far away.”
Faith smiled, and Vicki grinned, and then they were all laughing.
By the next night everything was set. On their way to the lab John and Vicki stopped and bought a new wristpilot, one that no Alterworldcorp exec had touched. At the lab John told the guards he needed to make some final checks on the Alt-Monte connect, and wanted to show his daughter where he worked. It got them inside.
John found enough cable, and soon he, Vicki, and one computer console were safely on the platform. He made the calculations, including the one variable that would destroy it all. He put a finger over the accelerator button, and called the police, connecting with the corporate offices of Alterworldcorp and six top news stations at the same time.
“This is Dr. John Florian,” he said. “I am at Stanford Linear, and unless my demands are met I am going to blow up the building. Look at your screens; you can see I have a hostage. If you make an attempt at coming in here, my finger will hit this button. Unless your SWAT teams are good enough to shoot me in less than .03 seconds, I suggest you cooperate.”
Vicki screamed, “Help, my dad’s gone crazy, he’s going to kill us!” She was enjoying this.
“First, you will evacuate the building,” John continued, “and set up a perimeter at fifty yards. Second, the journalists who are listening will send crews to my house, where the esteemed Dr. Faith Kelin will make a statement, to be broadcast live, I repeat live, on all six stations. When I see the broadcast, I will open the door. That is all.”
There was a lot of arguing, but in the end they met his demands. John watched as the news feed appeared on his wristpilot. Dr. Kelin told the world everything, and copies of the Alt-Potter holograms were downloaded to millions of homes. When Faith was done, John broke the connection.
“Shall we run away, Pumpkin?” he asked.
“Let’s do it!” she said. They pushed the button together.
The two suns of Gonzalvia, one huge and red, one small and white, shone above them in a green-tinged sky. They stood on the shore of a silver lake that reflected the sky, and on the other side of the lake were the golden walls and tall towers of a city.
“Not ruined,” said John, letting his breath out with a sigh. “It’s not ruined.”
“Dad,” Vicki shouted, “I’ll race you to the city!”
“Across the lake?”
“Come on dad, don’t you remember the books at all? This is Gonzalvia, not Earth. Just say the magic word “Sanvinio,” and you can walk on water!”
They raced, laughing all the way. John let his daughter win. [thataintice.jpg]
The Ending of Worlds
John laughed. Frank’s expression was definitely worth the price of lunch.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“Nope, dead serious,” John said. Frank groaned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist that one. But no joke, tomorrow’s connect is for the universe of ‘Night of the Living Dead.’”
“I can’t believe there’s enough George Romero fans to pull in that universe.”
“Have you heard the research from Princeton? Philmont’s saying the threshold should be lowered to 12 million.12 million minds wanting the same world to exist, and that world’s membrane will be pulled close enough for a connect.”
“So there’s 12 million nutcases out there who want to be trapped in a farmhouse by flesh-eating ghouls?”
“It doesn’t work like that. All you need is a suspension of disbelief, even for an hour, and the real membrane that matches the fictional world will shift in the multiverse froth, getting closer to our own. After that it’s just a matter of the calculations.”
“Sure John, just the calculations. Out of the ten billion people on Earth, how many of them are smart enough to understand the math behind membrane universe connections. Fifteen?”
“More like thirty. Six here at Stanford Linear, Philmont and Ortega at Princeton, another dozen at CERN, who knows how many in China. And Dr. Kelin herself, who started it all back in ’13, though she’s gone incognito.”
“I heard she’s gone completely wacko.” The old rumor again, padded cells for the multiverse mathematicians. Some of it was even true.
“How goes the divorce?” Frank asked, and for once John was grateful to talk about something else.
“Not good, she’s convinced the judge that mathematicians make lousy fathers, and she’s getting custody. Vicki’s coming to stay with me for a week though, next month.”
A young woman approached their table. She was dressed in black, with a pink badge that identified her as a private courier.
“Dr. John Florian?” the girl asked.
“Yes?”
“Private download for you, priority, coded for isolated systems only, from Dr. Angela Ortega. Sign here please.” She held out a reader, and John slipped his finger in to be pricked. She handed him a minidisk, and walked out of the cafe.
John stood up. “Gotta go, Frank, I’ve spent too long talking. I need to get back to the lab for the state-mandated orientation, give my spiel to the paying customers.” He didn’t mention the disk, and Frank didn’t ask. Angela Ortega, John thought. What did she need to say to him on an isolated system? Ortega was the only person John knew, other than Dr. Kelin herself, who was as good at Alterworld mathematics as he was, and she’d dropped out of sight just two weeks ago; the padded-cell rumors were already in the air.
“Tell me, John, how many people are rich and crazy enough to drop two million euros for a one-way trip to a world full of flesh-eating ghouls?”
“Four. There are actually four people out there who think they’d rather live in Romero’s freak show than on Earth.”
Frank laughed, and walked out of the cafe shaking his head.
Theories of the multiverse froth had been around since the turn of the century, but it wasn’t until 2015, when Dr. Faith Kelin’s Unified String Theory was verified at CERN, that people accepted a universe of universes. The theory even gave a number, 10 to the 128th, approximately. That was a lot of universes. Two years later, Kelin published her general multiverse theory, and membrane mathematics entered the real world. Soon people were making the leap to alternate Earths.
Alterworld Eden was the first. Then there was Alt-Jurassic; people loved their dinosaurs. Then Alt-Middle Earth, of course, and Alt-Faerun. By 2025 there had been 97 connects, to two-dozen unique universes, and over three thousand people had passed through. It was a one-way trip, no return ticket, and it wasn’t cheap, the power required to make a connect was enormous. The people who put their two million euros on the table knew what they were doing, but John still had to give a safety lecture to everyone. Even four nuts who wanted to live out the rest of their likely very short lives in a world of flesh-eating ghouls.
The lecture was painful, [classlessons.jpg] but, like always, they signed the bottom line at the end of the day. Alterworldcorp was ten million euros richer, and by tomorrow afternoon the world would have four fewer millionaires.
When John was finally able to get away, he went straight to his office and slipped Angela’s disk into his palmreader. Angela popped up, a three-inch hologram.
“Hello Dr. Florian,” the miniature Angela said, “I trust you are well. I need you to think something through for me, a seismic matter. Remember Reykjavik? Decisions? Philmont’s reservations? I want you to think about .03 seconds, and then I want you to think about butterflies, dead ones. I need to meet with you, Saturday. I’ll be with an old lady of your acquaintance, who you will want to see. Two o’clock, across from Chin’s, in the city. Please come alone.”
‘Seismic,’ John thought, ‘Earth shaking?’ Some of it was obvious, the Reykjavik conference was where Alterworldcorp had decided to allow connects to other universes at whatever time-stamp the customer wanted, Philmont had objected on moral grounds. Connects had started out cautious, only allowing a connect to Alt-Middle Earth after the ring was destroyed, say, or before it was made. But the restriction was dropped at Reykjavik. The rest of the message was harder; .03 seconds was how long operators like John could see into the connected universe, a brief glimpse that could not be recorded, thanks to quantum fluctuations. But dead butterflies? John was at a loss.
But he’d already decided to go, because of the last part. Dr. Faith Kelin had always called herself “the old woman,” so had her students. John and Angela had studied under Faith when they were at Cambridge, so it must be her. If this was big enough for the most brilliant mind since Einstein to break her self-imposed exile, then there was no way in hell John wasn’t going to be there. John went home, but when he finally fell asleep he still hadn’t figured it out.
Two hours later he was up. He’d dreamt of hunting dinosaurs, with a modern rifle, and stepping on a butterfly. As soon as he was awake he knew he had it, a story he’d read. He connected his wristpilot to the net, and a few keystrokes later he was re-reading the story. Bradbury, time travel, the old plot about small changes making a big difference. But travel to other universes wasn’t time travel, and except for Alterworldcorp getting rich, it wasn’t changing the world. At least not this one. Lord, he though, is it that?
The connect to Alt-Romero went off without a hitch, and John caught a .03 second glimpse of an old farmhouse in the distance as the four travelers vanished from the accelerator platform. He shivered, partly for the nutcases who wanted to live in a world of zombies, partly in anticipation of Saturday.
By Saturday John was getting worried. The day before, two execs had shown up at the lab. They wanted to know if John had heard from Dr. Ortega. More disturbing, they reminded him of the contract he’d signed with Alterworldcorp after Reykjavik, the one where he’d sold his soul in exchange for a truly obscene salary.
He was early, but there they were, standing in front of a dress shop across from Chin’s. [thecoolkids.jpg] Angela was leaning against the shop window, she had a wary look. The old woman was there too, smoking as always, and of course carrying her thermos of spiked espresso.
When she saw John, Faith hugged him. “Thank god,” she said. “I’m so glad you came. We tried to get Lowther as well, but I think our message to him got intercepted. Come on, let’s take a walk.”
“Good to see you too, old woman, and you, Angela,” John said. “I thought all the cloak and dagger stuff was just a joke, until two corporate execs in black suits walked into my lab yesterday. What’s this about?”
“You know Philmont’s theory,” Faith began, “that there’s no guarantee that the universe will still match after contact?”
“I remember. He was adamant, but I thought his math was shaky at best. And we’ll never know, will we? There’s no way to record the glimpse we get of the other universe, and there’s no way to come back. You taught me that, remember?”
“I taught you that, but I was wrong. Dr. Ortega and her colleagues have managed to make images of a connect, though Alterworldcorp clamped down on them as soon as they saw the pictures. That’s when she decided to disappear.”
“How did you get around the quantum fluctuations?” John asked Angela.
“We phase-matched the peak-trough functions of each photon. But we have bigger matters to discuss.”
“Indeed,” Faith said, “much bigger. Here, take a look at this.” Faith opened a plastic sandwich box and took out two holograms, handing one to John. The hologram was a shot of Hogwarts School, shining and huge, seen from across a dark lake. John recognized it at once.
“This is from Alterworld Potter,” John said. “I made this connect once myself, and I was almost tempted to follow the customers through when I saw this. It’s beautiful!”
“Was beautiful,” Faith said. “That shot was the first one taken at a connect by Dr. Ortega’s team in Europe, back in January. You know how popular Alt-Potter is, top of the list. They did two Alt-Potter connects this year at CERN, and took images of both. Here, take a look.”
Faith handed John the second hologram, and he stared at it in silence, not wanting to believe it. Hogwarts was a smoking ruin, and black birds flew above the remains of the building. The lake was gone, replaced by a swamp littered with decomposing bodies, giant serpents, and even a few heads stuck on pikes. It was a nightmare.
“But this is impossible!” John said. “Nowhere in Rowling’s universe does this happen, it looks like Voldemort’s won and killed everybody. How many did we send through on this connect?”
“Seventeen,” Faith said. “Seventeen people who were expecting Hogwarts, and got this. No doubt they are already dead, and two of them were teenagers.”
“Let’s go back to my house,” John said. You can both stay there until we get this figured out.”
They were silent on the way back; John had a lot to think about. At the house the made espresso, and John looked at the two holograms again.
“But who did this?” he said.
“We did, John. You and I and Dr. Ortega, and all our colleagues who went mad figuring it all out. My theory, your math, Alterworldcorp’s greed. We sent people back at whatever time stamp they, and their money, demanded, and this is the result. Somebody we sent through must have tried to help, or got captured and gave away something about Alt-Potter’s timeline, and changed it all. We destroyed a world, John, an entire world.”
“What else?” John asked. “Have you imaged any other worlds?”
“No, Alterworldcorp shut Dr. Ortega’s team down right after this image was released. I don’t even want to think about Alt-Middle Earth, that whole timeline was on a knife-edge anyway. That’s why Angela hunted me down, because we have to stop them. Alterworldcorp’s profits are based on a promise to their customers that is no longer true, does it surprise you that they want to keep this secret?”
“Are we sure? Maybe CERN made a connect with the wrong membrane.”
“Maybe. Every day I hope that’s what happened, but every morning I wake up from nightmares. That’s why we contacted you, John. We knew we could trust you, and we need to test this. We need to know for sure. We want you to go through a connect, an unofficial connect, and check things out.”
“A one-way trip? And how exactly would that help us?”
“I think there’s a way for you to come back.”
From any other person in the world, even Angela or Dr. Philmont, he would have dismissed the idea as impossible. But this was the old woman, this was Dr. Faith Kelin. If she said there was a way, there was a way.
“Okay, I’m listening,” John said. “How?”
“It involves quantum super symmetry, taking a whole and creating a duality, a symmetrical, opposite being at the moment of connection. The two beings will enter the connect, but both membrane universes will resist it, and one of the beings will be spat back into our universe. The multiverse froth will force the issue, trying to maintain its own symmetry.”
“So this person,” John said, trying to absorb the concept, “goes through…I go through the connect as two of me, and then one comes back out? How long would I, or at least one of me, have?”
“I can’t tell,” Faith said. “More than an hour, less than three.”
“We have to try, John,” Angela said. “If these holograms are true, we aren’t just mathematicians anymore, we’re mass murderers. Destroyers of worlds. I’d do it, but if I set foot anywhere near CERN I’ll be arrested. We need someone with access to an accelerator, with the mind to do the final calculations, and someone Alterworldcorp still trusts. That pretty much narrows it down to two men, and it looks like the corporation execs got to Dr. Lowther first, which leaves you. Dr. John Florian.”
“Great, that makes me feel so much better,” John said. “This is real, isn’t it, this is really happening?”
“Yes,” Faith said, “I’m afraid so. Will you do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Good. I never had any doubt. You know there’s a chance I’m wrong, don’t you Johnnie? That it will be a one-way trip after all.”
“Thanks for bringing that up so delicately, old woman. I’ll accept the risk; one life against the lives of whole worlds seems like a small enough price. If I say no I’ll be having my own nightmares every night. Do I need to connect with Alt-Potter?”
“Doesn’t have to be. Any universe we’ve connected to more than once will work, as long as you know it well enough to see if we’re doing damage.”
“Then I’m going to Alt-Jurassic, I’ve made that connect three times. Besides, if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll get a chance to see a dinosaur before I die. I’ll have the numbers ready by Monday night, but I’ll need one of you working the machine, I can’t think of anybody else here I could trust.”
“How about both of us?” Angela asked. “After all, it was our proposal.”
“Both, good, then it can’t fail.”
The three made their plans, staying at John’s house and trying to keep out of sight, and by Monday night they were ready. John had the access codes, but he knew they would need to pass the night guard, a grad student named Lee.
“Why don’t we try the direct approach?” asked Faith. “It beats shooting him.”
“The direct approach?” John asked.
“Sure. He’s a physics student, and I’m a Legend, remember?”
Two hours later they were walking through the front doors of Stanford Linear, acting as if they had every reason in the world to be there. Faith had been right, as soon as Lee saw who was walking up to his desk, his jaw dropped, and he spilled his soda scrambling to stand up.
“You’re…you’re Doctor….oh my god…” he stammered. He never got a chance to finish the thought, because Angela had walked behind him and clocked him with her handbag, loaded with rolls of quarters. They left Lee sleeping in a pool of Dr. Pepper, and headed inside.
“Too easy,” Faith said, “after tonight there will be Marines at that door.”
They time-stamped the Alt-Jurassic connect to several centuries after the last one, to make sure, and input the calculations.
“If I don’t come back,” John said, “there’s a letter for Vicki on my wristpilot. And I want you to show her those two holograms, maybe then she’ll understand. She loves Rowling’s universe almost as much as she loves Monte’s universe.”
“Shush, Johnnie,” Faith said. “You’ll be back in an hour.” She hit the button.
John looked up. John looked up.
“And I thought quantum math was weird!” he/they said, not quite simultaneously. He/they laughed, a little farther apart this time around. “Jinx!” he/they said, pointing at each other, and the words were almost half a second apart this time. Soon he had become they.
“Okay, let’s do this,” John said. “Yes,” John said, “we might not have much time.”
The two Johns looked around, and realized that things were definitely not okay.
“No ferns,” John said. “No trees,” John responded. “Definitely no dinosaurs, or people either, for that matter,” John replied. “And it’s cold,” John answered, “too cold.” “Way too cold for this universe,” John said.
They headed inland, trying to find something that looked right. Half an hour later they came across the first bones, and picked a large breastbone out of the sand.
“Dinosaur?” John asked. “What else,” John answered. The bone snapped, though they were holding it gently. [wishupona…jpg]
“It’s falling apart!” John exclaimed. “What could make a bone this brittle?” John asked. “Radiation,” both Johns said, back in sync.
They began hiking again, almost running. Eventually they came across the ruins of a town, or a city, though with what was left it was hard to tell. There was smoke here, coming from the center of the ruins, and John and John headed for it. They found a campsite, twenty people dressed in thin leather skins. The people took one look at the two Johns and ran off, screaming. All except one very old man.
“Yu ar twins? Whar do yu com frumm, yu lookk lek de ancesstorss!” the old man said. English, but changed.
John and John sat with the old man, and he told them. The ancestors had come to this world, where people and dinosaurs lived side by side, and at first they joined easily with the human tribes. They said they were from another universe, and had traveled here to live with the dinosaurs. Then one came who wanted to teach the ways of his universe, so everyone, dinosaurs and humans both, could live better. He taught everything, even about energy that was far more powerful than the black powder the raptors used. The humans didn’t have the technology to mine for his radioactive ores, or convert them to power, but the raptors did. Soon the raptor cities glowed with light, and they thought of using their new power to make ships that could travel in space. But war came first, war between raptor cities on opposite sides of the world.
The war destroyed the world, and only a few humans survived. The old man remembered, and his description of the poisonous clouds made John and John even colder than the air. Suddenly John stood up.
“I feel strange,” John said, “I think it might be me.” “I don’t want to die here,” John replied. “We did this,” John answered, “we did all this.” “I know,” John said, but his voice sounded faint, “you have to stop it, you have to!” “I will.”
And then he was back, standing on the platform, and he was crying, sobbing, falling to his knees. Angela was there, her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to die there,” he cried, “and I didn’t even say goodbye.”
“What?” Angela said, confused.
“I never thought much about what it would be like if it worked. I’m back there, and it’s awful, everything we feared. A world destroyed, a nuclear wasteland. And I have to live out, I mean he, he has to live out the rest of his days in that hell!”
“It’s almost dawn,” Faith said. “Lets get you home. I’m sure they’ve registered the power drain by now, and the police are probably on their way.”
They made it back to John’s house, and somehow managed to stay out of jail. As far as Alterworldcorp knew, Dr. Ortega was still missing, and Dr. Kelin was just a mad recluse somewhere. John was under investigation, but word of Dr. Ortega’s holograms had leaked out in Europe, and CERN was a hornet’s nest. Several of the top mathematicians were refusing to make connects until the public was told the truth, and the corporate execs knew they were running out of minds that could handle the computations.
In less than a week, John went from being suspect to being their prized genius. Alterworldcorp offered stock options, on the condition that he would do the calculations for the Stanford connects, and stay silent on the rumors coming out of CERN.
Each night, back at his house, the three conspirators discussed what they could do. Faith was willing to go to the press, but they feared Alterworldcorp would stop her before her story ever made it out. Angela and John were thinking of more drastic measures.
Then they were out of time. Alterworldcorp had moved a CERN connect to California, telling the media that CERN was down for upgrades. John was told to make the calculations, and the connect was scheduled in two days. It was Alt-Monte, a universe second only to Alt-Potter in popularity. The Manguel Monte fantasies had come out in 2012, and were still on the best-seller lists. His world was full of Brazilian magic and love, and adventure, with no technology and no evil wizards. It was a natural for Alterworldcorp, and this would be the third connect.
“You know I can’t do it,” John said that night. “Not knowing what we know. I won’t be party to destroying another world, especially not this one. I read those books to my daughter when she was little, they’re incredible!”
“Of course not,” Faith said. “We have to stop them now, and it has to be in a way that they can’t recover from, ever.”
“We need something big,” John said, “so let’s give them something big. Let’s blow the accelerator.”
They fell silent, though no one was shocked at the idea. Finally Faith said, “Okay, let’s do it. It may be the only thing that will get the world’s attention, and bring Alterworldcorp down. I just wish one of us didn’t have to die doing it.”
“Nobody is going to die,” John said. “I have an idea on that…” There was a click, and the front door opened. They all jumped, thinking that Alterworldcorp had discovered them at last. But at the door was just a little girl holding a suitcase, and wearing one of those ‘new style’ red hats that John found so hideous.
“Vicki!” John said, running to embrace his daughter. “I thought I was picking you up at the airport next week?”
“I left, dad, I’m sorry. I had to leave. Mom’s new boyfriend, he tried to…he wanted to touch me, so I ran. I used your credit code, and took the ballistic from New York.” Vicki started crying, and John just held her until she stopped. Faith and Angela let them have their space.
John wanted to go kill his ex’s boyfriend, but for Vicki’s sake he pushed the feeling aside. “Don’t be sorry, Pumpkin,” he said, “don’t ever be sorry for something somebody else did. Are you okay?”
“I am now, now that I’m here. But I’m not going back, I don’t care what the judge says.”
“No, you’re not going back. Nobody would make you go back now.”
“But mom’s going to be so mad, and I just jumped in on you. I should have called from the ballistic, I didn’t know you’d have people here.”
“It’s okay, we can deal with your mom later. Vicki, this is Dr. Ortega, and my old teacher Dr. Kelin. Faith, Angela, this is my daughter.”
“Dr. Kelin?” Vicki asked, her eyes wide. “Dr. Kelin the genius, who figured out all the billions of universes and then disappeared?”
“Yes, dear,” Faith said, “that’s me. But don’t call me ‘the genius,’ call me Faith, I’d like that better.”
“John,” Angela said, “you and your daughter have a lot to talk about, but the Alt-Monte connect is the day after tomorrow, and you said you had an idea about our situation?”
“Yes, I do. But you both need to know that I’ve made a promise that I would never keep anything from my daughter, anything. Our ‘situation’ is going to be hot news soon, no matter what happens, and I’d rather she hear about it from us than from the newsvids.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Faith said. “Little one, how much has your dad taught you about what he does at Stanford Linear?”
“A lot. I can’t do any of the string math or the membrane stuff, but I’m the best in my school at quantum electrodynamic equations!”
“Well,” Faith said, laughing, “I can see this won’t be so hard to explain after all. Let’s make some espresso; it’s going to be a long night. Vicki, do you drink coffee yet?”
“Yes, Dr. Kelin, I mean Faith. I’ll have one.”
“Good for you Vicki, I’m liking you more by the minute.”
It was a long night. Vicki told them about her mom’s boyfriend, and then Faith told Vicki about what they’d discovered. Afterwards she sat for a long time, staring at the two holograms from Alt-Potter.
“I’ll help you,” Vicki said suddenly, “I’ll help you blow the place up! This is terrible, this is like what mom’s boyfriend tried to do to me, except we did it to a world full of people, a whole universe!”
“Yes,” Faith said sadly, “to at least two worlds, maybe more. John, your daughter has guts, but we need a plan. You said you had an idea?”
“We know that to blow the accelerator, you just change one variable in the calculations, but the calculations have to be made from inside, it’s an isolated system. It’s the input point that’s our stumbling block. But what if someone made the calculations from the platform itself? Then they would go through, exactly .03 seconds before the accelerator blew.”
“I’ll do it,” Angela said, “if we can figure out a way to get me inside. Your daughter needs you now, and my kids are grown.”
“But they’ve got the lab locked up tight,” John said. “I can still get in, but we can’t just knock out a grad student this time, we’re talking lots of men, with guns.”
“Dad, do you think they’d let me in with you?” Vicki asked.
“I imagine they would, Pumpkin, but how would that help?”
“Dad,” she said, “I think you and I should both run away, really far away.”
Faith smiled, and Vicki grinned, and then they were all laughing.
By the next night everything was set. On their way to the lab John and Vicki stopped and bought a new wristpilot, one that no Alterworldcorp exec had touched. At the lab John told the guards he needed to make some final checks on the Alt-Monte connect, and wanted to show his daughter where he worked. It got them inside.
John found enough cable, and soon he, Vicki, and one computer console were safely on the platform. He made the calculations, including the one variable that would destroy it all. He put a finger over the accelerator button, and called the police, connecting with the corporate offices of Alterworldcorp and six top news stations at the same time.
“This is Dr. John Florian,” he said. “I am at Stanford Linear, and unless my demands are met I am going to blow up the building. Look at your screens; you can see I have a hostage. If you make an attempt at coming in here, my finger will hit this button. Unless your SWAT teams are good enough to shoot me in less than .03 seconds, I suggest you cooperate.”
Vicki screamed, “Help, my dad’s gone crazy, he’s going to kill us!” She was enjoying this.
“First, you will evacuate the building,” John continued, “and set up a perimeter at fifty yards. Second, the journalists who are listening will send crews to my house, where the esteemed Dr. Faith Kelin will make a statement, to be broadcast live, I repeat live, on all six stations. When I see the broadcast, I will open the door. That is all.”
There was a lot of arguing, but in the end they met his demands. John watched as the news feed appeared on his wristpilot. Dr. Kelin told the world everything, and copies of the Alt-Potter holograms were downloaded to millions of homes. When Faith was done, John broke the connection.
“Shall we run away, Pumpkin?” he asked.
“Let’s do it!” she said. They pushed the button together.
The two suns of Gonzalvia, one huge and red, one small and white, shone above them in a green-tinged sky. They stood on the shore of a silver lake that reflected the sky, and on the other side of the lake were the golden walls and tall towers of a city.
“Not ruined,” said John, letting his breath out with a sigh. “It’s not ruined.”
“Dad,” Vicki shouted, “I’ll race you to the city!”
“Across the lake?”
“Come on dad, don’t you remember the books at all? This is Gonzalvia, not Earth. Just say the magic word “Sanvinio,” and you can walk on water!”
They raced, laughing all the way. John let his daughter win. [thataintice.jpg]
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