The Deplosion Saga

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The Deplosion Saga Page 12

by Paul Anlee


  Larry brushed their hands away and huffed toward the exit.

  “Do you think he’d actually do that?” Kathy’s distraught expression triggered Greg's protective side.

  “Nah,” he said with a cavalier flip of his hand. “Larry’s a bit of a drama queen.”

  “I don’t know; he seems really mad.”

  “Yeah, but he won’t jeopardize his own job just for our health and well-being.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After he cools off, he’ll eventually come to see that we did something reckless and stupid. He figures we were unduly pressured by Darian, and he hates that kind of thing. He’ll calm down once he realizes that we did what we wanted to do, and that we’re okay with it if he doesn’t want to follow suit.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’ve known Larry for years. He went into science because he saw it as an oasis of sanity in a world full of craziness, uncertainty, and insecurity. He hates risk, especially personal risk. He’s a very careful and deliberate scientist. I mean, I like the guy; we’ve been through a lot together. But, honestly, he’s more of a stamp collector than an innovator. He’s smart enough to have done his grad work anywhere in the world, but he never moved away from Vancouver. Probably never will. Just didn't inherit the adventure gene, I guess.”

  “What about you? Are you adventurous?” Kathy asked, a sly smile on her face. Greg’s heart beat a little faster.

  “Well, I moved here from Mumbai to go to grad school so that has to be worth something.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  “And I applied to work with Darian as soon as I heard he was coming here.”

  “How come?”

  “Apart from the fact that it’ll look great on my CV? I happen to think that he’s the most exciting theoretical physicist to come along since Einstein.”

  Kathy laughed a sparkling laugh that lit up the room. Greg decided he would travel across the world to hear that laugh again.

  “That’s high praise for our young professor,” she said. “Do you think he’ll be able to live up to it?”

  “Well, he has so far. His Big Bang theories were great but only pushed the envelope back a little. His new stuff is ridiculously genius. It's huge.”

  “I’m just an engineer but, so far, the RAF device doesn't look like much more than a fancy laptop supercomputer with some non-standard built-in antennae.”

  “Yeah, I know. It doesn’t look like much, does it? But his RAF theory is so out of this world. It’s beautiful and crazy at the same time. At least, the bit I can comprehend. Darian has taken our understanding of Standard Theory to a whole new level.

  “I’ve heard you guys talk about that, but I don’t really get it.”

  “Basically, he’s proposing that all manner of virtual particles can, and do, exist beyond just the virtual equivalents of the real particles in this universe. There could be particles with bizarre charges, or masses, or color. All kinds of other oddities or strangeness, maybe even outside of our perception.”

  “More than just the Standard Model particles?”

  “Yeah. Besides the usual virtual fermions and bosons, he proposes other things with very weird properties.”

  “So then why isn’t our universe full of real-particle analogs of all these crazy virtual particles? You’d think we’d see something at least remotely similar in our universe.”

  “I was thinking the same thing at first. Darian says that virtual particles are like little blips in the quantum field. When a bunch of these little blips overlap each other in just the right way, they can set off resonance effects that suddenly allow the virtual particles to set up a standing wave that stabilizes them. The wave allows them to…well, they just precipitate into reality.”

  “Okay…. So where does the RAF come in?”

  “Well, at the beginning of the universe, all these different resonances were competing with each other to become real. Certain kinds won out over others, and now what we experience as the real universe…exists.”

  “So if we want to test the theory, we need a way to encourage other resonances among virtual particles,” Kathy posited.

  “Exactly, and that’s what the RAF does. It selects certain resonances over others by helping to fill in the gaps among the virtual particles in the quantum field.”

  “And that can all be done with just electromagnetic waves?”

  “Sure, that and a ton of math to figure out the exact shape and timing of those waves in order to select the right resonances. So much that the RAF generator has to have petaflop capabilities.”

  “And some highly optimized algorithms. I see the math and I can convert it into code, but I’m glad I don’t have to understand it.” Kathy’s software skills were at least as valuable as her hardware skills.

  “Yeah, the math is still beyond me, too. Hopefully, the new dendy lattice will help us with that.”

  “So how does resonance fit into the creation of the universe,” Kathy asked.

  “Darian says that in the time before the Big Bang, a particular set of resonances evolved into what we consider the real particles of our universe with a stable and consistent set of interactions. The resonances are self-propagating. That process keeps our universe stable and ensures that only certain kinds of particles come into existence.”

  “And Darian wants to mess with that? Maybe Larry was right.”

  “No, not at all. The complexity of computing how to alter the natural laws over a region of space goes up exponentially. Calculations for anything over a cubic meter or so would be practically impossible.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. I have to say, I didn’t think anyone could get so passionate about things that don’t exist."

  “Except that virtual particles do exist and so does the RAF,” Greg began. He stopped when he noticed Kathy’s smirk. “Okay, okay. So I get a little carried away. I’m a nerd at heart. Sorry.”

  Kathy grinned. “That’s alright. I kind of like it.”

  Greg could feel his face growing warm, and the more he tried to ignore it, the worse it got. “So…yeah…uhhm,” he faltered, scrambling to switch topics. “What did you think about the whole ‘soul’ discussion at lunch that day?”

  Kathy knew right away which day he meant. “Well, I was raised more or less Buddhist. Buddhism kind of assumes that the soul represents the essential part of a person that gets reincarnated again and again into different bodies over time. The goal is to eventually achieve enlightenment and nirvana, but I’m not sure I ever understood the concepts completely.”

  “Yeah, I was raised Muslim but my family considers me a heathen now, for being agnostic. In the past, I would have agreed with Dr. Pratt that science doesn’t have a lot to say about Allah or God or souls.”

  “Darian does have a way of pushing logic to uncomfortable conclusions, doesn’t he?” finished Kathy.

  “Yes, he sure does.”

  “Well, Buddhism doesn’t say much about the whole idea of a Creator God, either. It seems to have inherited the idea of an eternal soul from earlier religions. Spirituality never was all that important to me, but it’s what attracted my mom to move to California.”

  “So what do you believe now?”

  “I’d like to believe that something of us persists after death, and that there is some purpose to it all. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Wouldn’t we all? But, I have to admit, Darian’s arguments about the lack of a plausible mechanism for the soul to interact with the body make a lot of sense.”

  “Just because we don't understand everything about the soul, doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. Why couldn't it all work through something like…like interacting RAFs, for example?”

  “Maybe; although that just suggests souls operate under a different kind of physics.”

  “So what’s the matter with that?”

  “Well, if Darian’s RAF theory works out, this device might enable us to develop a legitimate science and technology of the
soul. Souls would not be beyond the reach of science anymore; they would no longer be classified as supernatural. Which would also, eventually, make God within reach of science.”

  “Wow. That’s both depressing and scary,” Kathy concluded. They sat still for a moment, letting it all sink in while they pondered the depths of their empty glasses.

  “Well, we’re clearly not going to figure this out all on our own,” Greg said after a while. “Darian’s giving a Philosophers’ Café on ‘The Universe Before the Universe.’ You want to go?”

  Kathy eyed him playfully. “You mean, like a date?”

  “We could go out for dinner after, if you’d like,” Greg offered.

  “I’d like that.”

  “And who knows? With a topic like that, and with the type of people who usually show up for these Cafés, I wouldn’t be surprised if the discussion moves away from physics and into the metaphysical. It could get interesting.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be interesting. Just as long as it doesn't end up in a free-for-all brawl. You know how feisty those philosophers can get!” They laughed at the idea of a roomful of brawling professors. It felt good to laugh, just to let go a little. They needed the levity as much as oxygen.

  “Let’s order another beer,” Kathy suggested. “You can tell me what it was like growing up in India, and I’ll tell you all about California.”

  “You're on!”

  15

  The bus came to a smooth halt at Hastings and Seymour, gently kneeled, and the rear door opened. Darian stepped out onto the sidewalk, followed by Greg, Kathy, and a few dozen other attendees, all on their way to the Philosophers’ Café at the downtown Simon Fraser campus.

  It was a typical November day in Vancouver. The wind and gloomy sky presaged the arrival of rainy season when the city would be plunged into four months of cold, depressing, all-enveloping grayness. Darian fastened his coat and unfurled the collar. His college experience in the hot, dry years of California’s recent super-drought had not prepared him for winter in the Pacific Northwest.

  Half a block down the street, precisely where they were headed, a noisy crowd was picketing. Well, that's a little disconcerting.

  The weather didn't seem to be dampening anyone's enthusiasm in the least. Darian watched as local and national network cameras scrambled for a position outside the main entrance of the building.

  As they approached the crowd, people shouted and jeered. Greg read a few of the placards bobbing and stabbing the air: THERE IS NO GOD BUT THE LORD! SCIENCE IS THE WORK OF SATAN! LEAVE NATURE ALONE!

  Surely, all these people aren't here to protest us, are they? Greg turned to Darian and was met with the vacant, emotionless stare that meant his boss was scouring the internet for information.

  “Apparently our discussion today has drawn the ire of Yeshua’s True Guard Church,” Darian explained. "They appear to have sent a small delegation to attend the talk." The television cameras spotted them and shifted focus from the boisterous protestors to Darian’s small entourage. An eager reporter rushed over.

  “Dr. Leigh, did you expect your lecture to draw such strong protest?” he shouted over the commotion. Darian stopped to address the camera directly. The protesters worked their way behind him and positioned their placards so they’d be visible in the video.

  “I wish all of my presentations would incite such passion,” Darian replied. “Most of my students find them far less fascinating and have a more difficult time forming such definite opinions.”

  “How would you reply to those who think your research infringes on God’s domain?” Darian could barely hear the man over the ruckus.

  “God is usually purported to work in the domain of miracles, not in physics,” Darian quipped. “I don’t expect we’ll be performing miracles anytime soon.” The jeers rose briefly, punctuated by vigorous pumping of placards.

  “But you are working on altering the laws of nature; isn’t that an incursion into God’s domain?”

  “Which god? Upon whose powers are we infringing? Are we offending the single Abrahamic being known as God, Yahweh, or Allah? Do the many major and minor gods of, say, Hinduism, ancient Greece, the Aztecs, or the Norse feel threatened by our work? Or are we are simply extending humanity’s knowledge of the physical world into a new area of natural and meta-natural phenomena?”

  Darian and his interviewer both ducked as an egg, hurled by one of the protestors, smashed a few feet away on the wet sidewalk.

  The reporter was secretly pleased—This is going to show great, maybe even make headline news. Encouraged, he opened another controversial issue.

  “Rumor has it that you developed this new theory in less than a minute. Is that true?”

  “Once I had the proper inspiration, it only took about a minute to complete the calculations and draft an article describing the theory. But I hasten to add that I’d been thinking about this area for several months prior to that moment.”

  “And what was the source of that inspiration?”

  “A conversation about the nature of the human soul with Dr. Pratt from our Department of Philosophy, the host of today’s event, led me to consider how the natural laws that govern matter and energy might have arisen. I simply followed that train of thought to its logical conclusion.”

  “You’re not even human!” yelled one of the placard wavers. “Crawl back to the machine that gave birth to you,” screamed another.

  Gratified at hearing the slurs, and enjoying the rush of power he felt from having provoked them, the reporter pressed on.

  “Your accidental exposure to a dendy lattice prior to your birth has given you a unique mind. Do you consider yourself to be more human, or more machine, after all these years with the lattice doing your thinking for you?”

  “What exactly do you think I am? For that matter, what are you? How do you feel about all those neurons doing your thinking for you?” Darian asked rhetorically.

  He slipped into lecture mode, his voice strengthening and taking on a comfortable cadence. “The essential ‘I’ is not some internal homunculus pulling the levers of our brain like a puppet master. The thing we call ‘I’ is simply the program of our personalities, abilities, and memories running on the machinery of our brain. Whether that machinery is all biological, or partly spintronic silicene and semiconductor, makes no difference to my experience of me as me. Sure, many of my axons and synapses are not biological, but I am still the one doing the thinking,” he assured, tapping his sternum for emphasis.

  “You have no soul!” shouted a protestor.

  “Neither do you,” answered Darian quietly, “you just think you do.”

  None of the protestors heard, but the reporter and the camera's microphone both picked up his comeback.

  Zing! That little sound bite alone is going to knock my ratings out of the park. Guaranteed, this bit’s going viral! We’ll have to air it as a teaser.

  Sensing an opportunity to bait Darian's ego, the reporter pandered to him a little. “Dr. Leigh, you are probably the smartest man alive today, possibly the smartest man that ever lived."

  “Undoubtedly,” Darian concurred. “Through a combination of instantaneous access to everything I’ve ever read and everything ever published on the web, any test of my knowledge would score higher than that of any other person. But what is intelligence, really? It’s more than accumulated knowledge of facts; it's also the ability to use those facts.

  “My dendy lattice permits a wider and faster exploration of concept-space than the unassisted biological brain, but it still has limitations within the parameters of this body. Anyone or any machine equipped with a similar lattice could become as intelligent as I am.”

  Darian made a show of checking his antique pocket watch—only to make a point, since he was always aware of the time through his lattice connection to the web. I am out of time and patience; wrap it up.

  “One last question: Are you angry about FDA restrictions on the use of the dendy lattice?”

>   Darian frowned. “Using the DNND lattice only to access published websites or enhance one’s experience of inSense movies is a huge underutilization of the potential to improve human knowledge and intelligence. The dendies allow me to perform many feats that could be available to everyone. Things like understanding and performing complex mathematical modeling, or learning to play the piano instantly.

  “The enterprise that my mother began will continue to do well, even if it is limited to entertainment applications, but humanity will not benefit as much as it could. That said, I understand the political necessity for the FDA to act with utmost caution, and I’m sure that, in time, it will conclude that the potential for DNND technology to help humanity far outweighs any remote possibility of detrimental effects. The lattice doesn’t remove our humanity; it enhances it.

  “If these protestors…” Darian motioned to the crowd, reigniting their jeers and placard waving. “If these protesters were equipped with dendy lattices, they would be capable of understanding my work, and they'd find themselves supporting my efforts rather than blindly opposing them as their church dictates.”

  The reporter was unable to mask his astonishment at Darian's brash comments. “Do you think they’re wrong to be concerned about the possibility of a science that can supersede the laws of nature?”

  “I think that’s one question more than you promised,” laughed Darian. “I suggest you come inside to hear the answer.” He turned to the crowd and raised his voice to be heard over their shouts. “I suggest you all come inside, and we’ll discuss your questions and concerns rationally.” He turned to his assistants and gestured for them to head inside.

  A few of the rowdier individuals tried to push forward but were stopped at the door by Security until they agreed to deposit their placards outside. The rest of the protestors reluctantly followed suit, and entered the hall with sullen, angry, and determined looking faces that all but dared the philosophically-curious attendees who were already seated to utter a word. The simply curious wisely avoided direct eye contact.

 

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