The Heisenberg Corollary

by C H Duryea

  “I called it the UET in my paper,” Narissa said. “The Universal Entanglement Theory.”

  “Something to do with quantum entanglement, I assume,” Vibeke said.

  “I took QE as a springboard. In quantum theory, particles separated by space can be connected through the phenomenon of entanglement. I hypothesized that certain universes could be connected through an analogous phenomenon.”

  “Which could explain what we’ve been seeing,” Zeke said. “Like the locals speaking English. If the theory holds, then there’s some kind of “like-attracts-like” principle that’s streamlining connections between similar universes.”

  “It’s not that universes completely alien to ours are inaccessible,” Narissa went on. “It’s just that they would require much more energy for us to access them.”

  “So according to your theory,” Vibeke said, “it’s not merely possible, but it’s statically likely that any jump we make is going to take us to a universe similar to our own.”

  “And if that’s the case,” Zeke said, “entanglement may hold the key to our getting back home.”

  “True,” Narissa said. “But it goes farther than that. For entanglement to work—and our experiences out here suggest that it does—my math demands that we accept a few additional, more radical, propositions.”

  “The Heisenberg corollary,” Harbinger said. “You still think it’s gonna pan out?”

  “My math doesn’t work otherwise.”

  “What is the Heisenberg corollary?” Vibeke asked.

  “It’s our verbal shorthand for a quantum carryover of the Observer Effect that seems to apply to our jumps. If you think about Universal Entanglement as a ‘like-attracts-like’ relationship between universes, the Heisenberg corollary brings humans into the loop.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “UE between similar universes creates a kind of dimple in the fabric of space-time, similar to that of gravity—but much harder to measure. The Observer Effect posits that the observation of something inherently changes the observed. Each one of us, by virtue of our cognition, is a tiny observational gravity well that also warps the space-time fabric. Consequently, whether we realize it or not, we might influence any emergent universal entanglements. Destination continua could be determined by any of us.”

  “Are you saying,” Vibeke asked, calmly taking this all in, “that our minds determine what universes we jump to?”

  “In effect, yes,” Narissa answered. “Not consciously, of course, but Universal Entanglement forms the thread between what we know—and where we go.”

  “How?”

  “Our perceptions,” Zeke said. “Our psychological state. What we know or have experienced, even at an abstract level, could influence our path through the Multiverse.”

  “Fantastic,” Harbinger said. “I’ve always wanted to hijack a Romulan warbird.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely. But we still don’t completely understand what we’re dealing with here.”

  “What implications does the corollary have for getting us home?” Zeke asked. “I mean, we’re all intimately familiar with our own garden-variety universe—” He looked at Qaant Yke. “Well, most of us at least. Does that increase our likelihood of making our way back?”

  “It helps,” Narissa granted, “but there are countless analogue Earths out there, and only one that we came from. The odds of a random jump back to our native universe—”

  “So you’re saying,” Harbinger asked, “that we should rename the Friendly Card the Jupiter 2?”

  “I’m still working on return algorithms for the Frogger,” Narissa said. “I’m not there yet.”

  Zeke turned to Harbinger. “Chuck, I want you to assist with Narissa’s number crunching. Allocate as many computing cycles as you can.”

  “I hear and obey.”

  “Did metallurgical turn up anything on those currency tiles?”

  “I’ve been calling it ‘moolite.’”

  “Moolite?” Vibeke asked.

  “You know—the mineral form of moolah.”

  “So what do you have?” Zeke asked. “Whatever you wanna call it.”

  “It’s inconclusive,” Harbinger said. “It’s definitely putting out something in the electromagnetic spectrum—but a specific EM profile has proved elusive. I doubt it’s anything dangerous, but it did make my hands tingle while I was handling it. It wasn’t having that effect before we jumped.”

  “Well, put it away, just in case,” Zeke said. “Avoid direct contact with it until we know more. What about the lichen excrement?”

  “You mean cyex,” Harbinger corrected. “I can’t get a fix on what the substance even is. Either kind—the refined or unrefined. It behaves like metal, and it’s putting out no EM so at least it’s not radioactive, but more than that I’m stumped.”

  “As much as I enjoy the intellectual brawl of scientific inquiry,” Augie said. “We also have some pressing practical matters to consider.”

  “The Tozzk,” Vibeke suggested.

  “Let’s talk about the Tozzk,” Zeke said.

  “Chaotic evil if I’ve ever seen it,” Harbinger said.

  “Whatever that means,” Zeke responded. “Qaant Yke, what can you tell us about them?”

  “They are a waste of perfectly good free iron.”

  “So you said. But who—and what—are they?”

  “They are a warrior race.”

  “So we’ve gathered.”

  “They are nomadic. Their fleets travel from one system to another, seizing, or attempting to seize any valuable resources in that system. I have never learned the location of the Tozzk homeworld. It is possible that they have none—or that it has been destroyed. The Tozzk are arrogant and aggressive. This blinds them to the sometimes superior military capability of their targets. They are career invaders, but not necessarily skilled conquerors.”

  “They also have huge battleships,” Vibeke added, “they’re made of rust, and they’re remarkably single-minded.”

  “That too,” the alien granted.

  “Next question,” Zeke said. “Why are they after us?”

  “The answer to that question,” Augie said, “I fear may be in the implications of the fact that we saw them not only in our own space but in Qaant Yke’s as well.”

  “You think they followed us there?” Zeke asked.

  “Followed us?” Vibeke asked. “I just assumed they were some kind of analogue. Like the speaking English business.”

  “I would love to believe that,” Harbinger said. “But they knew we were there on that station.”

  “Maybe they were after an analogue of us?”

  “Let’s not get away from ourselves,” Zeke said. “I think we have to assume the ship that attacked the station is the same one that destroyed XARPA.”

  “The capacity for interdimensional travel would make the Tozzk quite formidable,” Qaant Yke said. “If they have such capacity, it is a recent development.”

  “Maybe they’re trying to corner the market,” Harbinger said. “They might have caught wind of what we were doing and tried to shut us down in a manner apparently in keeping with their defining characteristics.”

  “Spoken with the eloquence of my forehatchers,” Qaant Yke said.

  “If what you’re saying is true,” Vibeke said, “then they’re still after us.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Narissa said. “Especially after we took out one of their dreadnoughts with a plasma enema.”

  “They may be regrouping after the loss of their ship,” Zeke said. Then he shrugged. “Or they may already be here.”

  A light on one of the side consoles bleeped.

  “Looks like we’re coming up on Alderaan,” Harbinger said.

  “Naming the planets already?” Zeke asked. He stood up. “Vee, I can put us into orbit if you feel like sitting this one out.”

  Vibeke stood. “Not a chance,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  And that was when everythin
g on the Friendly Card went dark.

  Twelve

  “Systems failure!” Augie yelled.

  “Ya think?” Harbinger asked.

  A shudder ran through the ship, and Zeke was suddenly very aware of his own mass.

  “Inertial capacitors are offline,” he said. Then his feet left the deck. “As is the AG. Augie and Chuck, go aft and see if you can restore the power. Narissa, I need you on the flight deck.”

  He pushed off a wall and pulled himself forward, Narissa following.

  “What about me?” Vibeke said, kicking off after them.

  He spun around to face her. “I don’t want you plugging into the NeuralNav during a power malfunction!” He kicked off again towards the flight deck.

  Zeke pulled himself into the cockpit and into the pilot’s seat. Outside the viewport, a blue and white planet loomed ahead—getting bigger very quickly.

  “Switching all navigation to manual,” Zeke said, toggling a set of switches on the console. Nothing of any consequence happened. “If I can engage manual that is. Narissa, try and get some of these systems back online.”

  “They’re all dark,” Narissa said. “Even if I can get anything back on, it’s gonna be a hard reboot.”

  “Try auxiliary power!”

  Narissa threw a series of switches and checked her gauges. “Auxiliary’s offline too!”

  “That is not supposed to happen! What about batteries?”

  “I got nothing, Zeke. No electricity at all.”

  Vibeke pulled herself into the cockpit and was momentarily struck by the sight of the rapidly approaching planet.

  “You’re not going to achieve orbit on manual,” she said.

  She was right, Zeke knew. They were coming in too fast, their angle too sharp.

  “If we can’t restore power in the next ten seconds or so,” Narissa said, “it’ll be too late. A crash will be unavoidable.”

  “Let me try the NeuralNav,” Vibeke said.

  “No,” Zeke said.

  “It’s on its own power supply,” she protested as she pulled the headset from the wall. “It has a bioelectrical backup that draws on my own electrical field. I might be able to patch in!”

  Zeke turned to her. “That’s exactly why I don’t want you on it!”

  “We don’t have any choice!”

  Zeke shouted past her. “Qaant Yke! Get her out of here!”

  The alien floated up the accessway with the grace of a fish—which should not have been that surprising—and pulled Vibeke off the flight deck.

  “Let me go!” she demanded as they both drifted back to the main cabin. “Why you—“

  “So, I guess you decided against my recommendations?”

  “Without knowing the cause of this outage, I’m not going to risk it.”

  “You don’t think that’s her decision to make?”

  “Not with all of our lives at stake. Can you make anything happen over there?”

  “Trying. If we can get even a few of these systems back up, we could at least route some power to the inertial capacitors.”

  “And if we can’t?” Zeke asked.

  “We’re gonna go into the ground like a neutronium skiff with its antigrav on reverse.”

  Zeke reflexively hit the comm button. Then he remembered that didn’t work either.

  The ship suddenly bucked hard enough to jar his teeth.

  “Picking up some chop,” Narissa reported.

  The curve of the planet now filled the viewport, and from the nose cone, Zeke saw a shimmering glare of orange and blue flame. They were hitting the atmosphere.

  “I hope the new ablatives we bought were worth the money!” he shouted.

  Narissa suddenly groaned and went rigid in her seat.

  “Narissa?” Zeke asked. “Are you okay?”

  But she said nothing. And when Zeke turned to look at her, he almost forgot about the planet getting ready to swat them.

  In the gloom of the unlit cockpit, Narissa was glowing. A faint blue-green aura, delicate as bioluminescence surrounded her. For a moment, Zeke thought he saw flashes of numbers in the glow. He blinked, and they vanished.

  “Narissa?”

  Qaant Yke came into the cockpit and took one look at Narissa.

  “She is undergoing valence shift,” he said.

  “What?” Zeke yelled. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I lack the appropriate translation.”

  “Get her aft! Get everyone secured back there! Prepare for a crash landing!”

  Qaant Yke beheld the planet outside as it resolved into oceans and land masses and cloud formations.

  “Preparations are irrelevant,” Qaant Yke said. “We will be vaporized upon impact. Perhaps that is well. It will absolve me of my crimes against fate.”

  As the first high cloud layers streaked by, Zeke grabbed the control stick and reflexively tried to pull up, but the stick was inoperative. There was nothing for him to do. Nothing he could do. He let the controls go.

  “Fine,” he told Qaant Yke, suddenly calm. “Stay here then. Watch the end with me.”

  They were falling like a brick now.

  “It is a pleasing view,” Qaant Yke said. “Is it not?”

  “Yeah,” Zeke said. “I suppose it is.”

  “It makes me want to cut wood with the ridges of my skull.”

  Zeke looked at the alien.

  “It sounds more elegant in the language of my forehatchers.”

  “I hope so.”

  There were mountains now and lakes, and vast expanses of green like he had seen from orbiting Earth. That seemed very long ago.

  The Friendly Card shuddered again. So violently this time that Zeke was thrown from his seat. He heard several loud, almost concussive strikes to the hull, followed by a series of hair-raising scraping noises.

  And then—

  And then they were no longer falling. The ground still approached—he could make out individual rivers and valleys and snow-dusted ridges—but now they were gliding. It was hardly a gentle glide, but Zeke was willing to accept it over a headlong plummet. Still, however, his body still quivered with the certainty of imminent death. He was trying to figure out just exactly what he was supposed to feel when Harbinger poked his head through the door.

  “Hey, boss,” he said. “You should really come back and see this. You can see them a lot better from the ventral windows.”

  “See what?” Zeke asked. “What the hell is out there?”

  “Not much,” Harbinger said. “Just your garden variety dragons.”

  Zeke scrambled aft to the main cabin.

  “What the blazes are you guys talking about?” he asked.

  Harbinger and Augie had their necks craned as they looked up through the viewports adjacent to the airlock. Vibeke attended Narissa at the bench by the table. Narissa was conscious but dazed. Qaant Yke followed from the flight deck and observed Zeke looking at the women.

  “Doctor Brand has undergone valence shift.”

  “What does that mean?” Zeke asked.

  “I lack the appropriate translation.”

  “How is she?” Zeke asked, turning to Vibeke. Vibeke looked at him with reproachful blue eyes.

  “She’ll live,” she said and turned back to Narissa.

  Zeke flinched slightly at the sting in her eyes, and he resolved to deal with it later. He turned and joined the other two at the viewport. Augie turned to him, grinned, and pointed up. Zeke stuck his neck towards the glass and looked up.

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” he said.

  “Yes,” Augie answered, his voice full of wonder. “You will.”

  They were just visible over the lip of the viewport. The hind quarter of a huge, scaled and winged creature flew above the Friendly Card’s nose, and the front quarter of another one was just behind it. The visible wings stretched out a dozen meters at least, and massive, gnarly claws had found—or created—footholds in the exterior superstructure.

 
“I don’t know,” Zeke said. “They look more pterodactyl-like to me—”

  At that moment, the rear creature opened its wide jaws and let loose an impressive column of flame.

  Zeke jumped back. “Ummm,” he said, pointing. “There—there are dragons up there.”

  “Man, oh, man,” Harbinger said. “The bragging rights I’m gonna have with my gaming group back home.”

  “I’m dying to know the chemical processes behind the fire-breath,” Augie said.

  “I’m more interested in whether or not they plan to put us down,” Zeke said.

  “We’re definitely descending,” Harbinger said. He looked as far ahead as he could through the side-facing window. “It looks like we’re headed for those rocky canyons up ahead.”

  Zeke tried to get a look. He could see a line of gray granite cliffs thrusting up from the forest floor to form a great valley.

  “Talk about your friendly skies,” Augie said. “Drogue service courtesy of the local fauna.”

  Zeke pulled away from the window and started back toward the flight deck. He wanted a better look at where they were going.

  Zeke dropped into the pilot’s seat as Augie and Harbinger followed him in. Vibeke came in behind them, Narissa leaning on the other woman for support.

  From the main viewport, the panorama of their apparent destination spread out before them. The rock walls on the valley were enormous—dwarfing many of Earth’s most dramatic geological features. Some ancient tectonic event had pushed a massive layer of rock above the surface, and eons of sedimentary buildup had resulted in the tree-carpeted expanse below.

  “It’s beautiful,” Narissa said quietly.

  “Considering we were about to put a crater in it,” Vibeke replied, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Their reptilian transporters carried them close to the wall on the port side.

  “Catching the updraft,” Harbinger noted.

  “I assume they’re not used to catching prey this heavy,” Augie said.

  “We’ve just been snatched out of the sky by dragons,” Zeke said. “I’m not assuming anything.”

  As they sailed under dragonwing, a large open area at the distant end of the canyon became visible.

  “Looks like we’re headed for that big clearing up there,” Augie said.