by RP Halliway
Maggie stood and walked toward Roger. “If Universe A rotated faster than Universe B, then any interactions from someone in Universe A to Universe B would occur earlier. For example, Evie in Universe A would pop into Universe B in the 1720s, and never meet her Universe B self.”
“That’s so confusing,” Silas said.
“It definitely can be,” Roger said, “which is why this lab is working to figure it out. Here is another thought to confuse you.” Roger nodded for Maggie to take over.
Maggie moved behind the cylinder. “Forget everything you know about Time. Try to imagine Time doesn’t exist.”
“Done!” Silas said, only half joking. It got the laughter response he expected.
“If you forget about Time, and just think about Change,” Maggie said, “then everybody on this rotating cylinder can be alive!” Maggie paused to see if the pair understood on some level. “And living their lives in their observation timelines.”
“I kinda see that,” Silas said, pointing to the lower half of the cylinder. “They could be living because they don’t overlap that half.” He pointed to the upper half of the cylinder.
“But it doesn’t matter where on the cylinder they are,” Maggie said.
“How can that be?” Evie asked.
“Look around this room,” Roger said, unable to contain his excitement. “Each of us in this room has our own piece of paper life cycle, correct?”
Nods from everyone told Roger everyone followed the idea.
“And that paper is rotating at the speed of Change, right? But . . .” He motioned for David to move alongside him as he produced two more pieces of paper with the spiral curve drawn on them. “David could be here.” Roger stabbed at a random point on the graph. “And I could be here!” He pointed to the center of the graph—to represent his birth.
“How?” Evie asked. “You are visibly much older than David.”
“Only in Time!” Roger said. “And since Time doesn’t drive Change, I could be anywhere on the curve, and experiencing my perceived Time wherever I am.”
“Just like a race, the position on the lap doesn’t necessarily show the correct ranking,” Silas said, sitting up in his chair. “One racer could be ten laps behind but ahead of everybody as they pass over the finish line, for example. That racer wouldn’t win, but would seem to be leading at that moment?”
“Oooh, great analogy!” Roger said. “But I’ll add one thing to your analogy. Instead of normal race cars, these cars have wings, and fly at a certain height based on the last lap they have completed. The racer ten laps behind would look back and not see anybody, because these other racers are actually above him.”
“And because they are flying they couldn’t interact?” Evie asked.
“Very good question!” Roger said. “Interaction is an interesting concept with the cylinder theory. Obviously people have to interact—we are interacting right now, but we are also racing along the track. In fact, on our paper graphs, by the science definition of Time, we should all be grouped together as a bunch of race cars at this exact moment in Time and space. ”
“Like those variable frequency pendulum models?” Evie asked.
“Very much like those!” Roger said. “That is another fantastic analogy. All of the pendulums swing at their natural frequency, and occasionally they all swing together. The pendulums go back and forth, which isn’t quite the same as the rotation of Change, but it is a good visual of how different people gather together in a variable model. But, in the bigger picture, that moment may be in the past for some of us, or in the future for some of us.”
“How . . .” Silas asked. His racecar of understanding was starting to veer off the track.
“The answer is really in the Time versus Change idea,” Roger said. “Right now, in this moment of Time, we are all together, which is the normal understanding of Time. Starting from the beginning—which hasn’t been defined in any certain terms—until now, Time has been plodding along in a completely straight line. There is no deviation, and because we meet at this point, that means that all previous and future ‘Time,’ as we perceive it, can be referenced to this point for everyone.
“In the Fundamental Theory of Change, using the cylinder, means we are all moving along side by side at the racetrack of Change. But in reality, since Time is defined as perceived by the observer, then we could each be on a different lap, eventually meeting up to be side by side at this exact moment in time—exactly like when all of the different pendulums swing together. But with the Change theory, that moment could be a memory for some of us, or it could be actually happening for some others, and still for others it will happen in the future at some point.”
Maggie pointed to Silas. “You could be one hundred years old at this exact moment in the cylinder on your life cycle page.” She pointed to the cylinder. “And this is just a memory to you, whereas Roger could be three years old, and this moment will be in his future.”
“But wouldn’t that mean that things happening in someone’s future are ‘set in stone’ and can’t change?” Evie asked.
“I’ve had that very thought as well and have been trying to work out an explanation for it,” Roger said with an excited smile. Turning to Maggie he asked, “Do you know if Jessica and Paul are around?”
“I haven’t heard from them for a while, but I can call them,” Maggie said.
“Please do,” Roger said. “This is a good discussion for them to get involved in.” He looked at the clock. “And this might be a good time to break for refreshments?”
Silas let out an audible sigh. “I am all for taking a break!” he said with enthusiasm, causing the group to laugh. “I feel like I’m trying to study for a final exam.”
“There is no exam,” Roger said. “But I do understand it is a lot to take in at once.”
The group mingled for a while and then David, followed by George and Maggie, went up the stairs and took positions around the den and patio to relax and enjoy the weather.
“I still don’t understand how kids can have memories from other people,” Silas said, mostly to Evie, but within earshot of Roger.
“We’ll cover that with Jessica,” Roger said. “Because that is, after all, the point of the whole endeavor.”
Evie paused for a second and then asked Roger, “Do you have any contacts that have worked with dreams?”
Roger smiled back. “Dreams are a personal study of mine. In an amateur capacity of course. But . . .” the older man leaned in toward the pair, as if to tell a secret, “didn’t I tell you that the Fundamental Theory of Change covers everything?” He stood up straight and laughed to himself as he walked, in a waddling fashion, up the stairs. “I will get you a list of contacts that you might find useful.”
Silas and Evie shot each other a confused but impressed look, and Silas mouthed “everything” sarcastically to Evie, causing them both to laugh.
Chapter 10
The group mingled around the patio and den as Roger brought out some snacks and drinks. “Please eat,” Roger said. “Thinking uses a lot of energy.”
“Why are you doing the Theory of Change, instead of other physics?” Evie asked Maggie, grabbing a glass of Roger’s sweet tea.
“Theoretical physics has some very bright minds, for sure,” Maggie said. “I could definitely be a cog in the great wheel of physics. But I recognized the learning I could do under Roger, and when he broke—I mean left—he tried to send me to another advisor. But Roger’s work on Change over Time fascinated me. Not just because it’s counter-culture, but because it’s actually hard! I wanted that.”
“But couldn’t you miss out on your PhD?” Silas asked, looking briefly at Evie to see if he was saying something incorrectly.
“I could be refused a PhD, based on the untested nature of the work, but I’m very curious how this theory is received in the wider community too,”
Maggie said. “I can always join another advisor team if I want a recognized PhD, or just go work somewhere. I have options, but working on this right now is very exciting.”
“You said you needed an experiment for the PhD,” Evie said.
“Yes,” Maggie said. “I would have to essentially discover or do something new for the PhD.”
“And you don’t know what that is yet?” Silas asked.
“I sort of have an idea, but there are external considerations that might limit it,” Maggie said.
“External considerations?” Evie echoed. “Like a review board?”
“Pretty much,” Maggie answered. “I feel like this area is too new and the research so radical that any review board would reject any experiment as unethical.”
“What is your experiment?” Silas asked, genuinely curious. They’d heard a lot of theories so far today. Having some sort of tangible experiment might help root his mind in fact.
Maggie took a long sip of her iced tea then started. “The premise of the experiment is to set up conditions that will produce some different results for Time and Change. So like your flight from yesterday, you slept for a bit, and therefore didn’t perceive Time. During that nap, your body was not subject to Time, just Change, and that sleep could have extended your lifespan a little.”
Evie tried to grasp the idea. “So if people sleep a lot, they live longer?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Maggie said. “I have a group of mice—genetically experimental mice, basically clones—and I want to test if sleeping, much like your nap during the flight, changes the lifespan. We know sleep is important. Without sleep, most animals will go crazy and die relatively quickly. With one group getting normal amounts of sleep, and another group getting more sleep, using a sleeping drug, the question is will they actually live longer the more they are allowed to sleep?”
“Lack of sleep has really been linked to an early death?” Evie asked.
Maggie nodded. “I don’t think it has been ‘causally’ proved, but definitely linked to it. And I am trying to link the next step—that more sleep increases a lifespan. Not because of sleep being beneficial in some way, but because change and time would diverge a little bit.”
“Wow,” Silas echoed Evie’s response. “I’m glad I sleep so much.”
“You could be my test subject,” Maggie joked. “But in all seriousness, the review board might think it is cruel to the mice and reject the experiment. Another version of the experiment is to attach pacemakers to the mice hearts, so each one experiences the exact number of heartbeats, and then see if the sleep changes how long their lifespan is. There are so many ways that Change pops out, rather than just working in Time.”
Silas and Evie heard Roger eagerly welcoming people at the front door, and immediately offering refreshments.
“Jessica and Paul,” Roger took care of the introductions, “this is Silas and Evie. But let’s not waste time on chit chat. We have work to do.” And then after grabbing some extra snacks, he led the entire group downstairs.
“What is your major?” Evie asked Jessica as they sat in chairs near each other.
“Oh, I’m not in college,” Jessica answered. “I witnessed to Roger about Jesus Christ a while ago—probably six years ago? I can’t remember exactly.” Jessica puzzled up her face, trying to remember. “But he and I got to talking about so many things, we’ve been good friends since.”
“Ah,” Evie said. “That’s nice.”
“It really is,” Jessica answered. “And he likes my ideas on some things.”
Roger moved to the desk at the front of the group and hefted the rotisserie more to the side of the table.
“Jessica, to bring you up to speed,” Roger started, “Evie and Silas are here trying to understand the ‘how’ question for Professor Andrews’ research.”
Jessica and Paul both nodded, obviously familiar with this scenario.
“As you can see the cylinder is in place,” Roger waved at the rotisserie, “and it seems both Evie and Silas have a basic grasp of the Change theory. They just need to hear more about things.”
“And the multiverse?” Jessica asked.
“A bit,” Roger said. “We can go more in depth before you jump in.”
Roger moved to the whiteboard beside the desk and looked at the group. “How to create the multiverse?” He wrote multiverse on the board. “For every decision there is a split in the multiverse, with another created universe. A decision could be a simple ‘act or not act’ type situation, or it could be a choice like flipping a coin.” Roger drew lines branching over and over across the board. Roger then looked intently at the group and steadied himself at the desk, taking a wide stance with his legs apart. “The number of universes is truly staggering!” He leaned in toward the group and spread his arms as wide as he could.
“Consider right now, there are about eight billion people in the world, and we’ll just assume that each person makes a decision between two choices—to act or not act—every second. To simplify the math, we can just say there are 30 million seconds in each year.”
Roger turned back to the board and wrote 8,000,000,000 on it and 30,000,000 underneath that then stepped back. He turned to face the others and started to move his arms around in an ever increasing wider circle. “Just simple multiplication tells us that is two hundred forty quadrillion but that isn’t the whole story. Each of those decision splits actually doesn’t just multiply, it creates an exponential situation! One decision produces two universes, and in those universes there are another two decisions each, which lead to four universes. So far it’s okay, but then the next decision leads to eight, and the next to sixteen, and so on! So the real number is eight billion times two choices, so sixteen billion raised to the 30,000,000th power! That is an inconceivable number!” He threw his arms out enthusiastically after writing the mathematical expression on the board. “Rounding down to ten billion to the thirty millionth power, and using exponential math produces a number of ten with three hundred million zeros behind it.”
“And that’s just for one year!” Maggie piped in.
“Yes,” Roger said. “And that isn’t counting all the things—living or inanimate that can move—every movement is a choice in a way. For example, every leaf that grows and falls off every tree in the world each year is a ‘decision’ which would change the eight billion into trillions and trillions of things that could have decisions or changes, and then on and on. And that is making a multiverse decision every second. There could be decisions happening much faster than that.”
Roger put his arms out wide. “It is a monstrously, impossibly, big number of parallel universes!”
“As another example,” David said, “We could calculate Silas’ decisions in one year. Suppose over the course of an average year, Silas makes about 10 million ‘heads or tails’ type decisions. This would be two raised to the power of ten million.” David added the expression on the whiteboard, alongside Roger’s.
“I don’t have a calculator on hand that could compute that number directly,” David said, laughing, “but doing some approximations and hand calculations and rounding to make it easier to understand, that number would turn out to be a ten with three million zeros behind it. Putting that into perspective,” David continued, reaching under the desk, “if each page was filled with just the zeros—not talking about counting to the final number—it would take 1000 pages!” David dropped two wrapped reams of paper on the desk with a thud. “Just for the zeros of how many universes Silas created.”
“And we exist in each one?” Silas asked, trying to grasp the impossibly large number.
“On a simple level, you may assume so,” Roger said. “In some universes, your parents may have never met, for example, or been killed before you were conceived, and so on. So existing in all of the parallel universes isn’t a guarantee, but it can simplify t
he thought experiment to believe that the cylinder is the same in each universe for now.”
Roger moved behind the cylinder. “This is the simplest model of the universe,” he continued. “And just imagine lots and lots and lots of these for the parallel universes.” Roger looked at Evie and Silas. “And that is why your cylinder dream shocked me so much. You saw three cylinders. Were they overlapping in some way?”
“It was hard to tell,” Silas said. “In the dream, the artifact had some cylinders in it, but it wasn’t clear how they worked or fit together. There was a lot of corrosion on the two connected cylinders.”
Roger nodded, losing a little of his excitement. “I imagine being a dream would be hard to see all the details.”
“Is every cylinder turning at the same speed?” Evie asked.
“Yes. The easiest model is them all turning at the speed of Change.”
“And all the universes have something that makes them different or unique?” Silas asked.
Roger nodded. “Absolutely. If they were identical copies then it wouldn’t be a parallel universe. For example, today, right here, I am wearing gray socks, but in the next universe over, I could be wearing black, or white, or red socks. Something as simple as that. But the change doesn’t have to exist right now—the change could be a hundred years from now. So there are probably trillions of universes with all of us exactly as we are right now.”
“But there are other universes,” Evie said, “where things are horribly wrong. Like dinosaurs still exist, or the Revolutionaries didn’t win in 1776. And each universe in the multiverse is equally likely, I mean statistically speaking?” Evie asked, drawing on her background stats classes.
“Not equally likely at all,” Roger said, shaking his head. “There are definitely universes that are much more likely than others. If I only had one pair of white socks, and the rest were gray socks, then the probability that I would be wearing white socks in a single universe is much lower than for wearing gray socks, for example.”