The signal had little on/off sequences and looked to me sort of like a Morse code. Of course it was not Morse code, but on-off-on-on-off-off-on-on-on . I started thinking of it as dit-dit-dot-dit-dot-dit-dit. I was able to process a bit further and get the signal looking cleaner. Not great, but I could definitely see the on/off sequences in the waterfall. I had a lot of sick time saved up and for two weeks I hacked away at a program that was much more efficient and resulted in a readout of the dit-dot values. Eventually I had a display on my laptop that nicely showed the data. I was recording all the while, with backups of course!
I then spent another week making the program on my desktop work really well and look really cool. I made the most of my procrastination. I could not keep my eyes off the computer screen after that. Now the ET star was visible from 1-4 a.m., three hours a night I was receiving a signal from life beyond! I have no hope of deciphering it, but I wonder what the best artificial intelligence computer would make of it. Does the signal contain actual information we are supposed to interpret? Or is it just a hello signal? People smarter than I should be looking at this.
What should I do now? Nine weeks have passed. Staring at my computer screen makes me feel elated and a bit sick. Will I be remembered as the person who introduced ET to the world? Or, will I be remembered as that guy who did not tell the world? Should I put my head down, be a good engineer, and write another computer program?
This is no washing machine.
Afterword
SETI stands for the Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence. The SETI Institute is based in Mountain View, California, employing more than 100 scientists, educators and support staff. Its mission is to explore, understand, and explain the origin and nature of life in the universe, and to apply the knowledge gained to inspire and guide present and future generations.
Founded in 1984, the SETI Institute initially purchased or was granted time on various radio telescopes to perform SETI radio signal searches. In 2001, Paul Allen (co-founder of Microsoft) agreed to fund the first phase of what is now called the Allen Telescope Array (ATA), which is located at the Hat Creek Radio Observatory near Hat Creek, California. The array began observing in 2007. There are currently 42 receiving dishes, with the eventual goal of placing 350 dishes when funding is obtained.
The site has a small full time staff that keep the computers running and the dishes working. Maintenance and other activities take place during the day. The SETI radio signal search takes place during the night. The system was designed to be operated remotely, so the operator does not have to reside on site to perform the search.
The ATA does not have the ability to transmit radio signals, it can only receive radio signals.
The dishes scan the skies every night trying to detect radio signals that may originate from a distant civilization. At any given time, all the dishes point to the same location on the sky and the signals received from each dish are combined with the signals from the other dishes. Signal processing computers analyze the data for signals in real time, only keeping the small amount of data containing detected signals. As a result, most of the data received is discarded. Details of detected signals are stored in a database and raw data from the dishes pertaining to detected signals is stored on disk. Many gigabytes of data are gathered every night.
The receiving frequencies range from 1GHz to 10GHz, which is the range of frequencies used by satellites, radar, and spacecraft. As a result, there are a lot of radio signals detected every night and a large part of the search involves weeding out interference. This frequency range is very wide and far outside the range of human auditory capacity. Thus, we do not listen with headphones. The computers do all the work.
The data processed by the computers are most often represented as a graph called a waterfall graph. This graph looks like static on a TV. Any signals appear as patterns emerging from the static. The computers are basically picking out patterns from the static.
The ATA is designed to detect very weak and very narrow radio signals that drift over time due to the Doppler Effect. Signals that do not shift over time are categorized as radio frequency interference (RFI). Occasionally, signals of just the right type are seen and disappear. We call these transients. These may be cause by a satellite moving through the field of view, or an old transmitter malfunctioning.
Since initial operations in 2007, development and improvements have been a continual process. The signal searching schemes and data analysis algorithms are continually evolving. The antenna feeds in the dishes are being upgraded. New processing hardware and software is being developed. This results in the search becoming more efficient over time, increasing the chances of one day detecting a signal from ET.
As the operator of the SETI signal search, I often do fantasize about what it would be like if I detected a signal that was a good candidate. Within the SETI Institute, I have heard of several instances, before I came on board in 2008, where a good candidate was discovered. But in those cases the source was discovered to be coming from somewhere locally. So the search continues.
© The Author 2017
Michael Brotherton (ed.)Science Fiction by ScientistsScience and Fiction10.1007/978-3-319-41102-6_11
The Schrödinger Brat Paradox
Carl (Carlton) Frederick1
(1)New York, USA
Why, Roger wondered yet again, did a psychiatrist want him, a quantum physicist, to observe her patient. His curiosity, even stronger than his aversion to hospitals, had drawn him here to Mass. General to find out. And, in any case, I can use a break from working on my theory.
Now, gazing through a one-way mirror, he observed the psychiatrist — her welcoming demeanor and her warm smile. As for her patient, a clean-cut adolescent boy, he seemed completely normal — except that occasionally he conversed with someone who wasn’t there. But Roger, judging from the end of the conversation he could hear, didn’t think the unseen conversant urged the boy do anything cringe-worthy. Like hearing one side of a phone call. Roger shook his head, slowly. Harmless. He thought back seven or so years. His son at three had an imaginary playmate. I think sometimes he still has one, but keeps him secret. Roger looked hard at the patient. This kid’s a little old for it, but.... Roger took a deep breath and noticed that the room smelled vaguely antiseptic, a hospital smell. I hate hospitals. He transferred his gaze to the wall. The color was a calming baby-blue. Roger found it depressing. I’ve got to get out of here.
He returned his attention to the psychiatrist. He’d looked her up and found that she, Olivia Van Staaten, had a joint appointment in the university psychology department and also at Harvard’s affiliate hospital. She had a reputation for innovation and had a good publication history.
Finally, the session ended and Roger walked briskly to the hospital cafeteria to meet with Dr. Van Staaten.
The cafeteria, Roger noticed, had a similar smell to the observation room — but this time tinged with the odor of bland, healthy food. He bought a cup of tea, carried it to a table, and sat, waiting. His hands wrapped around the cup provided a welcome warmth in a Boston January.
He stood when she came in and up to his table. She motioned for him to sit and they began to converse. Roger was pleased that she displayed the same warm personality that she’d shown with her patient. Almost immediately, they were on a first name basis.
“….and speaking of your patient…” Roger hesitated. “I felt a touch uncomfortable watching. Patient, Doctor confidentiality and all that.”
“I commend your sense of privacy,” said Olivia. “But the boy’s parents approved. They said that if I thought you could help....” She spread her hands.
“But that’s just it.” Roger leaned forward. “How could I possibly help? Why me? I mean, I’m a quantum theorist, not a psychiatrist.”
She looked down at her hands, and paused, as if about to take a leap into the unknown. “What do you know…,” she said, tentatively. “What do you know about schizophrenia and Dissociative Identity Disord
er?”
“All I know about it is,” said Roger with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’m schizophrenic, and so am I.” As soon as he’d said it, he realized it had been a bad idea.
Olivia’s warm smile became noticeably cooler.
“Sorry,” said Roger. “Australian kid humor. Not really appropriate here, is it?”
Olivia gave a slight shake of her head. “And not accurate, either. The verse should say DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder, not schizophrenia.”
“Sorry,” said Roger, again, “both as an apology and an expression of ignorance, “what is Dissociative Disorder, please?
“ Dissociative Identity Disorder.” She waited for a sign of understanding from Roger, didn’t receive one, and continued. “Split personality.”
“Oh.”
“Actually,” she said, distantly, “I don’t really know what the patient’s problem is.” She seemed to be speaking to herself. “Similar to DID, but the personalities are very similar. Doesn’t fit with classic schizophrenia either. And the usual psychotropic drugs, clozapine, risperidone, don’t seem to have any effect.” She pursed her lips. “And I don’t really like having to prescribe them.”
“If I might say,” said Roger, “his…symptoms don’t seem particularly severe. He seems to be a precocious, imaginative kid. Maybe that’s all there is to it.”
She nodded. “Yes, he is imaginative — too imaginative.” She seemed to drift back into a conversation with herself. “Sometimes he imagines he’s another person: a brother whom he doesn’t have, a teacher, and even sometimes his own father.”
Roger smiled. That’s very recursive.
“And he has an eidetic memory,” — She talked as if she were unburdening herself — ”a virtually non-stop video recorder.”
“I must confess I have that condition as well,” said Roger. “My pose as an absent-minded professor is just that, a pose.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you — ”
“No problems,” said Roger with a laugh. “Mental issues are something of an occupational hazard with scientists, with great scientists at any rate. Newton, Tesla, Eddington, and even Dirac.”
Olivia took a long sip of her coffee, seemingly hiding behind the cup.
Roger tapped the side of his cup and watched the waves propagate through the coffee. Not that I can pretend to be great. But I’d willingly accept even more severe mental issues if I could get the wave-nature of my theory to work. He bit his lip. But I sincerely hope Bron hasn’t inherited the issues from me.
“Unprofessional as it may be,” said Olivia, lowering her cup, “I’m becoming increasingly worried about him. The boy’s a loner — not involved with his community. That’s not healthy.”
Roger made a sound to show he was listening.
Olivia seemed to take notice of him again. “Oh, and by the way, he’s also expressed an interest in quantum physics. From what I can tell, he seems very knowledgeable about it.” She stirred her coffee, absently. “We’ve done PET scans of the frontal cortex for the usual anomalies. A hint of an answer.” She threw a glance to the ceiling. “I wish I could have used a higher intensity beam on the hippocampus.”
Roger tried to look as if he knew what she was talking about — a skill he’d picked up in grad school. But she obviously saw right through him. “You are familiar with the hippocampus?”
“Um… the university for hippopotamuses?”
She sighed.
Sorry, said Roger, yet again. “More Australian humor, I’m afraid.”
She offered up a tight smile. “They’re in the medial temporal lobes of the brain. They’re important for memory — and possibly for olfaction — smell.”
“Very interesting,” said Roger, suppressing his lack of interest. “But again. Why me?”
Olivia, looking uncomfortable, paused for a few seconds, then blurted out. “I read an article about the multi-world interpretation of quantum mechanics.”
“Oh, dear.” Roger gave a hint of a chuckle. “The Everett MWI theory.”
“Yes. That was his name. You don’t approve?”
“It’s not that. Some prominent theorists believe it. A popular article, I presume.”
“No. Not really.” Olivia sounded defensive. “Semi-popular, perhaps.” With her forefinger, she traced out lines on the table as if reading from them. “The article said that multiple universes communicate weakly through things called interference and superposition. Is that more or less correct?”
“Actually, yes. But what does that have to do with....” He felt his eyes go wide. “Are you.... Are you suggesting that your patient is actually communicating with himself in another universe?”
“I’ve explored every other solution I could think of and, as Sherlock Holmes says, once you’ve eliminated the usual possibilities, whatever is left....” She spread her hands. “Is it a possibility?”
“I don’t really know. But it does seem maybe a touch farfetched.”
She stared intently at him. “Too farfetched.”
Roger, wilting under the intensity, was reluctant to dissuade her. “Maybe not. But why are you so obviously keen on it?”
She gave a hint of a laugh. “Haven’t you ever become obsessed with your work?”
Roger laughed. “Guilty. I’ve been struggling virtually round the clock to derive the Schrödinger equation from my own theory, Indeterminate Granular Space-time Mechanics.” He chuckled again. “It seems we’re kindred spirits, you and I.”
She raised her coffee cup, as if in a toast, and said. “The Schrödinger equation. The article talked about that and also the Schrödinger Cat Paradox — and something called the wave function, and said it was crucial for multi-worlds. But I must confess I didn’t fully understand it.”
“In the best physicist tradition,” said Roger as he pulled out a napkin from the dispenser and laid it flat on the table, “we’ll use this as a blackboard.” He extracted a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote an equation. “This is the Schrödinger equation.” He pointed to the Greek letter Ψ. “And this is the wave function.”
Olivia stared at the napkin “I can’t say that this adds much to my understanding. But actually it’s not the Schrödinger equation that I’m interested in.”
Roger didn’t reply as, staring at the equation (which was unnecessary as it was long etched into his being) he got an idea. Maybe the equation really describes fluctuations of the metric tensor.
After some long, silent seconds, Olivia made a throat clearing sound.
It brought Roger out of his physics world.
“Oh. Sorry. Um..as for the Cat Paradox....”
“Oh. I think I understand that.” Olivia looked up from the napkin. “If a quantum experiment can produce a dead or a live cat, it provides a combination of both until someone actually checks on the condition of the cat.”
“Yes. A superposition of a live and dead cat. And only when someone checks, will the cat be alive or dead.”
Olivia frowned. “I must say I found that ridiculous.”
“Schrödinger thought so, too. But that’s what his equation seems to predict. MWI, on the other hand says that there will be both a dead cat and a living cat, but in different universes.”
“That sounds ridiculous as well.”
Roger nodded.
“But,” Olivia went on, “the article said there may be some communication between universes — especially in cases where the subjects are not tightly connected to the rest of the world.”
“Which,” said Roger, “is why the cat in the Cat Paradox experiment is placed in a sealed room.”
“Experiment? Do you think an experiment is really possible?”
“Possibly.” Roger felt it best not to mention that his IGSM was a counter theory to the Multi World Interpretation. And if an experiment were to cast doubt on MWI, I would not be unhappy. He was surprised at himself; He was actually beginning to consider an experiment. And
not just a gedanken experiment.
Olivia got a faraway look. “I’m sure the university’s animal research committee would not go along with killing a cat. And in any case, a brain scan on a dead cat wouldn’t prove anything.”
“We can alter the experiment.” Roger smiled at the thought. “We could use a white cat…so…so that instead of the cat dying, we’ll dye it. We’ll have it dropped into a vat of black hair dye. Then we’ll have a superposition of a white and a grey cat.”
“I assume,” said Olivia, “that a…a superposition of a white and black cat isn’t a grey cat then.”
“No.”
Olivia nodded. “I wonder. My patient. Perhaps I should have treated him in your…cat box, .a box isolated from the rest of the world.” She hesitated. “Although I’m afraid he’s already isolated from the world. Already a recluse.”
Roger gave a long sigh. “I’ve been something of a recluse myself since my wife died.”
“Oh I’m sorry.”
“About four years ago. A neurological disease.”
Olivia gave a nod of understanding, and stayed silent.
“I felt I needed a complete change,” Roger went on. “I left The University of Sydney for a post here at Harvard. I threw myself into my research. I think about it all the time, my research I mean. I dream about it. And I’m afraid I’m short-changing Bron, my son, by living in my research world more than in his.” He flashed a smile. “Sounds sort of like MWI, doesn’t it?” He forced a chuckle and glanced back to the interior of the hospital. “In a way, I might not be all that different from your patient back there.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I’m talking too much. Apologies.”
Science Fiction by Scientists: An Anthology of Short Stories (Science and Fiction) Page 19