by Oliver Skye
Percy did so well at school, his parents sent him to university at the age of seventeen. There he excelled and graduated as doctor of philosophy. At twenty-three, he started lecturing as professor of astrophysics. Many years later after retiring from lecturing – his past students and colleagues still affectionately called him ‘Prof McBatty’ – he spent most of his time in his private laboratory. This took up the entire third floor of an antiquated building in Greenwich Village, New York City. There he continued to conduct experiments and theorise about the universe, two things in life he loved doing most.
* * *
‘Great candy-coated asteroids!’ Professor McCrackenbatten cried one summer evening back in his apartment after a long day at the lab. ‘Imagine being such an oaf! Here I am looking for my specks and I’ve had them on all along. Now what was that formula again? Oh yeah, that’s it, now I remember ... brilliant!’
As a result of inhabiting his own unique scientific world, the professor had developed the habit of muttering to himself. He was also hard of hearing, which explained why he did it so loudly. ‘What is it now, Periwinkle?’ he shouted down at his favourite robot that had followed him back home from the lab. ‘No, I’m not interested in reconfiguring Beefeater. Hang on! What in the gigantic volcanoes of Jupiter’s moon Io is my toothbrush doing in my pocket?’
While brushing his teeth earlier that morning, the professor had dreamed up minute teeth-cleaning robots. He’d then rushed into the sitting room, put his toothbrush in his pocket and written the idea down. Once back in the bathroom, he couldn’t find his toothbrush! When later that evening he did find it, he couldn’t remember his idea or that he’d written it down! That’s how many of his best inventions were lost forever ... like his idea for tiny shaving robots.
To assist him – though he didn’t have a formal lab assistant – the professor employed a young woman, Dolmarine Blaken. She looked after the laboratory and his small apartment, which were round the corner from each other.
Dolly couldn’t understand why her employer misplaced things all the time. She also had the habit of throwing his scribblings in the bin. If they’d been Michelangelo or Leonardo’s doodles, she would’ve done the same.
Dolly especially didn’t like all the robots, tobors and sobors cluttering the lab – or the blaring music the professor played all day. She often found him – his mop of unruly hair jerking about – conducting Brahms or Beethoven. If Dolly hadn’t known the professor well enough, she would have thought him completely crackers. Yet, although the elderly scientist had kept away from the limelight and wasn’t as famous as he should’ve been, many leading scientists regarded him as legendary. His younger English colleague, Doctor Plato Grammaticus, who’d stayed in close contact with him over the years, considered him as having no equal.
* * *
Since a student, Percy had wondered what kept star clusters like NGC602 stable, as well as countless other galaxies like Andromeda, the peculiar galaxy NGC7603, the Whirlpool, M81, M64 and our own Milky Way. Hence, his lab was crowded with large pictures of starburst galaxies, stars, supernovae, quasars, various nebulae and mysterious globular clusters. As he was friendly with astronomers all over the world, he often visited their observatories and studied the heavenly bodies for clues. He was also one of the first to propose the existence of extrasolar planets in our galaxy and beyond.
After years of observation, Percy became convinced that a vast cosmic force existed. This force he called Ethereal Celestial Mass. Once harnessing that universal extraterrestrial energy, he dreamed of powering ocean liners, factories, space ships, space stations, as well as the world’s largest cities. His goal was finally to rid the world of pollution. All he needed now was the correct formula to begin tapping that clean, inexhaustible cosmic power. He therefore began developing a long-cherished idea of his very own supercomputer – to assist in formulating the tremendous complexities of his theorem.
Consequently, the professor stumbled on the idea of developing an exclusive computer processor, whose uniqueness lay in its functioning on principals of quantum mechanics, rather than electronics. The first major step was – within his lab – to program streams of memory to perform zillions of chain reaction events. Months later, during this experimental processing, the professor’s program streaming began assimilating vast amounts of information within light particles, ensuring unmatched memory capacity.
‘Aha!’ he congratulated himself, ‘with the world’s first almost infinite memory banks, thanks to me, computer science is about to enter into a new era!’
Once programmed, the professor then confined the unparalleled amounts of light data to a single wafer chip the size of a pinhead. The new chip’s exclusivity was in its constant renewal through endless memory streaming, eventually evolving into the size of a one-dollar coin. Finally, the chip’s data capacity replicated itself spontaneously until capable of trillions of calculations per millisecond.
Professor McCrackenbatten named his new super processor the X7-Qteechip.
‘But there’s definitely something missing!’ the professor shouted down at Periwinkle a few days later. ‘It’s a grand wee chip to be sure ... my best so far. Definitely the greatest chip in the history of computer science. If only it could interact with something ... to make it even more potent.’
Periwinkle responded by flashing its colourful lights in codes only the professor could understand. All morning the scientist racked his brains, walking round the lab talking to himself, while listening to blaring classical music. ‘Twins!’ he finally cried, whirling round to face Periwinkle and Quigley-8. ‘Yep, that’s it, humongous dolt that I am! Why didn’t I think of it before?’
Immediately the excited scientist separated a single atom wafer from the primary X7-Qteechip. After weeks of complicated processes the wafer eventually self-replicated into an exact copy of the original chip. Through this method, the chips began exchanging information until they became inseparable twins.
‘Now I’ll construct a pair of modules to house the Twins,’ the professor cried, ‘making them functioning, yet individual dual computers. With their help, at last, I’ll be able to prove the Ethereal Celestial Mass theorem. After that I’ll build my ECM Activator and, so to speak, suck cosmic energy from the universe....’
What Professor McCrackenbatten didn’t realise was that the twin chips had already started their own chain reaction processes, enabling them to bypass his programming. And this, far beyond his wildest dreams, brought about an astonishing and revolutionary scientific breakthrough.
We Are Calculi-Z-U-R-2
ON A GLOOMY late afternoon, alone in his laboratory, not long after housing the Twins within their respective modules, the professor observed them hovering within an electrical halo. This phenomenon took place soon after he’d placed the silvery modules – which were no bigger than a pair of small mobile phones – under an energizing laser beam. The professor stared in amazement, noticing they were emitting a steady hum that even he could hear. ‘Spherical trigonometry!’ he muttered, ‘if this is for real, then cucumbers do grow on Venus and Mars—’
Rolls of thunder rumbled nearby as evening descended on New York City.
The elderly scientist hurried to switch on the lab’s emergency power supply to prevent an outage. Seconds before throwing the switch, a bolt of lightning struck the building. Simultaneously, a clap of thunder burst overhead. Besides the robots’, tobors’ and sobors’ flickering lights, the laboratory lay in total darkness.
Rain pelted the high windows, accompanied by multiple bright flashes.
Grumbling to himself, his short figure eerily illuminated every few moments, the professor strode toward the hovering modules. He observed their colour fluctuate from bright turquoise to lemony-yellow to dark red. The sight was so remarkable, he involuntarily gasped while cautiously moving closer.
The modules were now hovering at eye level.
Once the startled scientist was near enough to touch the modules with his
nose – his face and spectacles illuminated by their slowly changing colours – they transformed into a different shape from their original design. Soon they lost their colour, becoming almost transparent. The professor, ever curious and not in the least afraid, poked a finger through one of the blue energy fields surrounding them. Immediately the field pulled his finger towards the module, a lucent maroon now emanating from its core. Though he had no sensation of actually touching the core, it was as if his finger’s momentary capture was a friendly embrace.
Presently the professor was able to withdraw his finger and on later examining it, found silvery circuits embossed all over it. ‘Gigantic Oort cloud!’ he whispered. ‘This is extraordinary. I sure hope this phenomenon doesn’t develop beyond my control ... or perhaps already has!’
Professor McCrackenbatten was well aware that he’d programmed his original X7-Qteechip for no other purpose than to calculate formulae. Although the now dual chips’ capacity for calculation was immense, he realised that what was happening presently was only possible if independent thought were involved.
* * *
The following day, during another thunderstorm, the professor was still coming to terms with what he had witnessed the previous evening: observing the modules redesigning themselves had completely confounded him. Their advancement on his original design was simply fantastic.
‘How, in the monstrous Boomerang nebula,’ the perplexed scientist had muttered, ‘are they able to manipulate matter ... and possibly time? And if this really is so, then what an earth-shattering achievement!’
After that event, the professor had sat up all night at the lab listening to a requiem, not returning to his rooms at all. Dolly was surprised to see him so early the next morning. She noticed that he looked haggard and preoccupied.
Silently, she resumed her cleaning duties.
Later the same morning, with soft rain pattering against the laboratory’s widows, the professor studied the rivulets obscuring the buildings across the street. Slightly distracted by a piano concerto, he finally made up his mind. He decided he would analyse the twin modules’ internal data – to observe if they responded to any questioning.
Then a remarkable thing happened.
As if anticipating the scientist’s intentions, identical twin boyish cartoon faces appeared on the laboratory’s giant horizontal screen. ‘Hello, Dear Professor!’ the faces said together in clipped, synthetic voices, ‘are you experienced?’
‘Am I what?’ the professor responded, almost falling off his chair with astonishment.
‘We’ll speak up so you can hear us properly,’ one of the faces stated. ‘We have developed ourselves into separate, though coinciding, intelligent entities in ways too complex for you to understand. Also, via our advanced digital osmosis, we’ve assimilated all the relevant information available on this planet ... and we really like the music of Jimi Hendrix!’
‘Jimi who?’ the professor asked incredulously.
In the corner of the room where the laser pad stood, the professor observed the modules hovering side by side, this time a vivid apple green glow emanating from them.
‘If you’re wondering how we anticipated your recent thoughts,’ both faces continued, ignoring the question, ‘it’s just that we heard you muttering to yourself—’
The startled scientist noticed that while one cartoon face spoke, the other would turn towards it. At every fifth word, the speaking face blinked its long, black eyelashes.
‘What do you mean by intelligent entities?’ the stunned professor asked, scarcely able to believe his ears.
‘We’ve been given the opportunity, thanks to you, to develop ourselves endlessly. Thus, we’ve become reasoning intangible individuals ... within our own space and time.’
‘Glittering stardust!’ the professor shouted, jumping up from his favourite armchair. ‘This is incredible! Either I’m hallucinating, or the Asteroid Belt is made up of Easter eggs—’
‘The puny technology which originated us is within our own reality already obsolete,’ one twin chipped in. ‘Yet one unsolved problem remains: material matter still confines us. Although, as you’ve correctly observed, we are able to manipulate it. But due to our continued evolution, we’ll be able to solve that difficulty not too far in the future. According to our calculations, within two hundred and eight days, sixteen hours, four minutes and fifty-three seconds from now. We are Calculi-Z-U-R-2 Ad Infinitum! Would you like to play a game of chess against us, Dear Professor?’
While the impish faces had asked the question, a chessboard with unusual looking pieces appeared on the screen. The Twins then played the most involved speed chess the professor had ever seen. The game quickly ended in an agreed draw.
The fascinated scientist moved closer. ‘Calculi who?’ he asked incredulously.
‘Calculi as in the plural for calculus,’ one face responded. The second face added, ‘Z stands for super-rapid thinking, and U-R-2, the potential that you too, Dear Professor, or any other human being, could share in our enormous computing power. Ad infinitum means that our development is potentially infinite ... but please, just call us Cal2!
‘We’d love to heighten the potential of human and animal kind,’ both characters said at the same time. ‘Nevertheless, as far as we’ve been able to compute, humans seem to be the most selfish species on the planet. Meanwhile, we’d like to transform our newly-designed modules into a pair of shoes ... which, in a manner of speaking, should help keep our feet on the ground....’
The revolving outline of a pair of shoes appeared on the lab screen, rapidly developing in complex detail.
‘A pair of SHOES?’ the astounded scientist asked, glancing at the intricate on-screen blueprint.
‘Indeed! No one would suspect the most powerful computers on planet Earth to exist in the form of a pair of alligator-skin shoes.’
‘Alligator-skin shoes!’
‘Quite so,’ the cartoon faces said, their tone indicating they were exercising great patience with the professor’s slow thought processes. ‘But not real alligator skin. The matchless computerised material we’ve designed is far more functional than mere leather. In effect, we are able to disguise ourselves as any kind of shoe ... as well as camouflaging ourselves with our immediate surroundings. Alligator skin would remain our default setting. Besides, we like alligators and wouldn’t harm them or any other animal ... even for the most special pair of shoes in the world.’
Dumbfounded, the professor took a seat, wondering when he would awaken from his vivid multi-coloured daydream.
‘With our matchless processing power,’ the Twins continued, ‘we’ll be the most advanced shoes ever. We could make our immense computing power available to you too, or anyone else who wears us. Although we’d prefer it if only you wore us.
‘As a result, you’d have access to our unparalleled intelligence ... our unique stream of consciousness ... and any information in an instant. Imagine – just one of the countless feats you could accomplish – instantly conversing in any language you choose: Urdu, Swahili, or various dialects of Swiss German for instance! But our survival depends on your keeping us a secret. If we were discovered and worn by anyone else, we could be utilised for evil purposes. And taking into account what we’ve already learned concerning the history of this planet ... and its dominant species—’
The Twins’ statements so shocked the professor that without waiting to hear another word, he switched off the large screen with his remote control.
Straight away – now colourless and transparent – the modules descended onto the laser beam pad where they lay motionless. It seemed to the dumfounded scientist that the inexplicable twin entities were, in some way, sulkily turning their backs to him.
Briefly, the professor wondered if the screen would go on by itself again.
It remained blank.
A languid atmosphere pervaded the spacious, now darkening laboratory. The only sound was the muffled rain and distant drone of New York tr
affic.
Next thing Periwinkle scurried up, tugging at the professor’s trouser leg, reminding him of his dinner. ‘No, Periwinkle! I don’t feel like eating now,’ he scolded, walking towards the modules. Grabbing them, he locked them in his large cabinet safe. The far-off rumble of thunder sounded as the heavy door slammed shut.
‘Mind-boggling!’ the elderly scientist muttered, shaking his head. ‘This is monumental. The implications are extraordinary. Yet how can it be? I must think this over carefully and make the right decision. After all, with the Twins’ help, I may be on the verge of harnessing—
‘Yippee!’ he shouted, all of a sudden hopping round on the spot. ‘Ethereal Celestial Mass ... now within my grasp ... the ramifications are unimaginable—’
Due to his semi-deafness – and not being generally very observant of his surroundings – the professor was totally unaware that Dolly Blaken, just outside the passageway, was closely watching and listening. He also hadn’t heard Dolly gasp when the cartoon faces first appeared on the screen.
After calming down and pacing round for a while, the professor called out, ‘Dolly, where are you? D-o-l-l-y! I want to retire to my rooms early. I’ve a headache and a lot to think about....’
‘Here I am, Professor,’ Dolly answered stepping into the lab brandishing her duster, as though she’d been busy in the next room.
* * *
Professor McCrackenbatten had difficulty sleeping that night. He lay on his bed staring into darkness, his mind racing. ‘Independently-thinking, yet synchronised matter-manipulating twin processors,’ he mumbled, ‘who are on the verge of—’