Yondering

by Robert Reginald (ed)

  The physicist nodded somberly. “The effects have already been felt on multiple worlds. Several planets with marginal temperature ranges are becoming uninhabitable outside of protective biodomes. Those with milder climes have also experienced progressive cooling, and concern is mounting that incipient ice ages might be on the horizon in a handful of heavily populated worlds. If the trend continues, it will only be a matter of time before humanity, and possibly all life in the known universe, could be in jeopardy of extinction.”

  Mol’Kenar was long forgotten as Ian came to grips with what they were telling him. “I’ve not heard a word of this anywhere!” he sputtered. “How could something this big escape notice?”

  “The information has been restricted to a few select members of the government and science communities,” General McAllister answered. He spread his hands on the table. “Can you imagine the mass panic on worlds across the Union if people knew the truth? It could do nothing but harm. Societies might break down into complete anarchy.” His expression was grim as he ground out the words, and Ian knew the man was right.

  But…. “Something has to be done!” he insisted. “There has to be a reason for this, a specific cause that can be addressed. Have you learned anything more about the phenomenon?”

  Dr. Cavanaugh spoke again, and her tone was almost gentle, as if she regretted the burden of knowledge they had laid in his lap. “We’re getting to that. It was obvious in the first few years that the problem had to be addressed, and quickly. The best scientists of multiple worlds convened to discuss the situation, but no one knew the source of the anomalies, so we were all at a loss as to a solution. There was nothing anyone could do but watch the universe slowly wind down, like a battery whose charge was finally depleted.

  “But we didn’t give up hope. This facility continued monitoring known space with every piece of equipment at our disposal. Our scientists operated under the assumption that if energy was disappearing from the universe, it had to be going somewhere. To this end we revived some earlier experiments involving phase-shifting of matter and energy. Those projects had originally been aimed at probing the possibility of overlapping or ‘parallel’ universes.”

  Ian’s head was swimming with each new revelation. This was starting to sound more like speculative fiction than reality. He managed to ask, “What came out of those studies?”

  Dr. Cavanaugh smirked and said, “Our funding was discontinued because of equivocal results. Although the data suggested that alternate phases of spacetime could indeed exist, we were never able to define a specific reality outside of the known universe. It was like attempting to tune into a radio wave broadcast without knowing the exact frequency needed. There were nearly an infinite number of phase variations possible, with no way of knowing which coordinates corresponded to actual realities.”

  “But you revived those experiments in search of answers to the current problem,” Ian prompted.

  “Yes,” she said, “and we got lucky. Our breakthrough finally came when one of the disruptive events occurred while the phase-shifting equipment was active. At the precise moment when the electromagnetic spectrum jumped and gravity shuddered, the equipment reported a massive surge in the multiphasic energy readings. The energy spike had been concentrated in one specific frequency, corresponding to a single alternate spacetime. In that brief moment two major problems had been solved. A parallel dimension had been identified, and it appeared that it was the source of the energy drain in this universe.”

  “I see,” Ian said, weighing the implications. “So you’ve localized the origin of the phenomenon, but it’s not even within our universe. Where does that leave us?”

  “In a better position than you might imagine,” Dr. Cavanaugh answered with a grin. “That discovery provided the impetus for us to launch the Lazarus Project. The desperation of our situation greased the wheels of progress in ways you can’t imagine; we had the resources of multiple worlds at our disposal. Five years and trillions of galactic credits later, we succeeded.”

  “Succeeded? In what?” Ian asked, frowning.

  “We developed the device that may give us our answers, the reason you are here,” the physicist replied. “It’s called the Interdimensional Phase-Shifting Transducer. We nicknamed her ‘Ipsy’ for short.”

  “I assume you’re going to tell me what it does,” Ian asked with a blank look.

  “Of course,” Dr. Cavanaugh replied, nodding. “The device has one function: it is capable of opening a localized rift between universes. Unfortunately, prodigious amounts of energy are needed to accomplish this feat, and even with ten antimatter reactors powering Ipsy, the window she creates can only be maintained for a few moments before it collapses and closes. This is just enough time to push a small object through to the other side.”

  Something clicked in Ian’s brain, and he said cautiously, “An object like a human being?”

  The steady gazes of those around the table told him what he needed to know. Dr. Cavanaugh said quickly, “Oh, we didn’t start with human subjects, of course. No one knew what awaited us in the other dimension. Some worried that a supermassive black hole might lurk there, sucking matter and energy to itself via a weak link with our universe. Despite the urgency of the situation, we knew that caution was paramount.”

  “So exactly what have you done prior to this?” Ian asked her.

  “When the device first came on line, we began sending inanimate objects through, retrieving each after a short interval. The machine locks onto the matter-energy profiles of the materials that it passes through the rift, and can pull them back into our reality from beyond. Simple rocks and bits of metal returned successfully with no measurable alterations to their structure.

  “Next we experimented with organic substances, sending pieces of fruit and other plant material through the machine. Again they were retrieved undamaged. This suggested a relatively non-hostile environment on the other side, so we pushed the experimental timetable forward.”

  “What about sensor equipment?” Ian asked. “I’d send a data collector through and see what it could tell us.”

  A few chuckles were heard around the table, and Dr. Cavanaugh nodded and grinned. “Our thoughts exactly. A probe was launched into the rift, to gather information on atmosphere, temperature, gravity, and to collect visual images from the other side. Unfortunately, the phase-shifting process appeared to scramble the unit’s memory, and no coherent data were obtained upon its return. We were forced to move on to the final stage of the project with what information we possessed. This meant sending a living creature through the machine.”

  Ian leaned forward with interest. “And how did that go?”

  The Rigelian to Ian’s right replied, “A small rodent in a protected habitat was the first to travel through. It returned alive and well a few minutes later, albeit a bit dazed from the transference process. When no lasting effects were observed in the test subject, a monkey was sent through in a custom-made environment suit. It also made the journey beyond and back unharmed, but it appeared quite agitated when it rematerialized in the laboratory.”

  “I can empathize; it’s not every day that you jump universes,” Ian commented wryly.

  “Actually, we don’t expect the transference to be stressful, as it should be nearly instantaneous. The rat seemed unfazed by the experience,” the scientist replied.

  “Then why was the monkey so keyed up? Ian asked.

  The other man shrugged. “We don’t know. Electroencephalograms and magnetic resonance imaging revealed no organic damage to the animal’s brain, and no reason could be found for its behavior. The only peculiarity was a row of parallel gouges on the back of the monkey’s protective suit, which we couldn’t logically explain. Maybe it managed to traumatize itself while on the other side.”

  “And now you want me to go through and see what’s over there,” Ian concluded. “If I do this, can I take my team with me?”

  Dr. Cavanaugh shook her head regretfully. “Th
ere is only enough window capacity to pass a single object through at a time. We’d have to send in a team one by one, with several minutes between each. At this time, we think it’s best to use a single operative to assess the situation, and then decide on a course of action from there.”

  Ian’s longtime superior, Colonel Parker, spoke up. His icy blue eyes were piercing under his regulation military haircut. “Ian, we’ve chosen you for this mission because we feel you’re the best qualified, and your judgment can be trusted. You’ll have complete discretion once you’re across; do what you think is best. If somehow you can resolve the problem yourself, you may attempt to do so. Otherwise, your task is to gather information and survive to bring it home.”

  For a moment Ian sat quietly staring at his hands. Eventually he raised his eyes and asked the colonel, “Do I have a choice?”

  Colonel Parker nodded. “It’s a volunteer mission, Ian. If you decline, then we’ll find someone else.”

  General McAllister spoke up then, his gravelly voice compelling everyone’s attention. “So what do you say, son? Are you in?”

  Ian hesitated for only a moment before nodding his head. Like it or not, there really was no other option, and everyone knew it.

  * * * *

  A few weeks later he sat motionless in the heavy steel chair of Ipsy’s transference chamber, wondering if he had made a wise decision. There were far too many unknowns for his liking, too much that could go wrong even within the known parameters of what they were attempting. He could see the main control panel beyond the fused quartz window of the sealed door. Its digital clock counted slowly down toward zero, the amber numbers flashing and vanishing as his last minutes slowly ran out. He reflected cynically that in times past, men convicted of capital crimes might have met their fates in similar fashion. Hopefully the end result here would be more conducive to his health.

  He sucked in a big gulp of processed air, hearing the hollow rush of his exhale in the helmet. The environment suit they had provided him was unique, being a combination of protective habitat, information-gathering equipment, and potent defensive armament. There was no telling what he was going to encounter out there. Being prepared for all eventualities was a way of life for Ian, and he had insisted on specific design parameters for the suit when he had taken the mission.

  Now the time had come to push the limits of technology, to lift the veil and see what lay beyond. He glanced over the suit readouts in his helmet display one last time, as the master clock ticked toward zero. All indicators were reading nominal. Time slowed as the end approached, ten seconds now, with a surge of adrenaline pounding his heart and clenching his jaw. Five seconds, and he felt his skin begin to crawl as the machine’s energy fields took hold. Three seconds, two, one, and….

  Just a hint of a brilliant flash, there and gone in an instant; a jolt as if an electrical current had coursed through his body, again so fleeting he wasn’t sure it had even occurred. Then he was sitting quietly on a smooth hard surface—where?

  Fighting off a wave of disorientation, he scrambled to his feet, probing his surroundings with eyes and sensors. It was dark, everything an admixture of shadows within shadows. As his vision adjusted he realized there were sources of illumination here and there, some pinpoint in size, and others more diffuse, creating areas of lighter hue within the dark. Slowly his surroundings became more visible. In a moment he froze in surprise, arms dropping out of his ready stance as he stared in disbelief. Quickly he checked his sensors to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him. Yes, there were walls, a ceiling, and regularly-shaped objects which appeared to be of artificial construct arrayed all around him. He was inside a building!

  For a moment he slumped, overwhelmed by a sense of profound failure. They must have gotten it all wrong, and somehow he had been transported to a different locale within his own universe. As he stood frozen, pondering the situation, he gulped and forced himself to calm down, slowing his racing thoughts. Focus and discipline gradually prevailed, and his mind achieved some clarity. An idea occurred to him then. He raised his head, feeling a surge of hope. Yes, of course! An alternate reality didn’t have to be bizarre. In fact, it might be just a little different than home. With all the science and preparation that had preceded this moment, the odds really had favored success, and that meant he was probably right where he had intended to be.

  He gathered himself and began studying the room he had materialized within. The suit readouts showed temperature levels that were cool by human standards, but livable. Oxygen was present in the atmosphere, but again was on the thin side for Homo sapiens, being only fifteen percent of the air mix. The gravitation here was 0.75 of Earth normal, so he would be light on his feet, even clad in the heavy suit. Ian had trained in a variety of environments all the way down to zero gravity, so this posed no more than an inconvenience to him.

  His eyes were now adjusting to the dim conditions, and he swept his gaze around the area. Some of the faint specks of light had resolved into blue and amber indicators on the faces of what appeared to be large banks of equipment. Eventually his attention was drawn by a relatively bright object only a few strides in front of him. Cautiously he moved his feet and approached the pale glow, crossing the smooth floor easily. On nearing the source of illumination, he could see that it was a cube-shaped structure which sat atop a table or platform. It measured less than a meter in diameter, and appeared comprised entirely of a transparent material. The wan light was coming from within its depths. He moved closer and bent to peer inside.

  It took a few moments to make sense of the miniature panorama on display within. The cube’s interior looked inky black, and despite its clear surfaces, he could not see through to the other side. Within the dark matrix were suspended numerous glowing shapes, some larger, others pinpoint in size. The tiny objects looked familiar, and he squinted as he tried to discern what they were. Some were disc-like, others were wispy spirals with arms that swirled around a bright center…he drew back as recognition struck him, shaking his head in denial. There was no way, no way that what he was thinking could be possible.

  Half fearing what he would find, Ian gritted his teeth and extended his hand over the cube, probing the object with his suit’s sensors. The telltales on his helmet visor lit up, and he numbly scanned the incoming data. The readings indicated high levels of energy contained within, on a scale far above what an object that small should be able to generate. It was not a simple power source, either, such as an antimatter or fusion reactor. There were spikes all over the electromagnetic spectrum, from visible light to hard radiation. Even the gravitational readouts were off the scale. There was substance inside the cube, unbelievable amounts of it. What should have been wild conjecture was looking more and more plausible. He felt a wave of dizziness, and he staggered back from the cube with blood rushing in his head and bile in his mouth.

  As he stood gasping for air, a conversation came to him, something that a Lazarus researcher had told him in a briefing just two days before.

  “How do I know that I’ll end up anywhere useful?” Ian had asked the scientist, frowning as he considered the possibilities. “That’s an entire universe you’re sending me into; I could enter it hundreds of light years away from where the energy drain is originating. Heck, I could wind up in the wrong galaxy, for all we know.”

  The physicist had shaken his head, scratching his blonde hair thoughtfully as he said, “We don’t think that will be a problem, Ian. The transducer coordinates are based on where the power surge occurred during the Event. Not only should that lead you to the correct universe, it should also follow the energy drain to its source within that spacetime continuum. You should emerge at, or very close to, the heart of our problem.” The scientist had grinned at Ian as he added, “What you do about it from there, well, that’s your area of expertise.”

  And here he was, looking into what seemed to be, as near as he could tell, his own universe. Captured in a display on a table, as insane as that sounded. �
��You’ll come out close to the heart of the problem.” If their universe had truly been confined to a vessel by whoever had built this facility, then humanity and all other inhabitants of Ian’s spacetime would be at the mercy of those who possessed this cube. His thoughts whirled as he struggled to wrap his mind around the reality.

  But even if it were true, the idea gave rise to other problems. Such as: how could anyone draw as much energy from the cube as what Ian’s entire universe had lost? He frowned as he wrestled with the question. It must not be an equivalent transfer; this spacetime might be larger, and hold more matter and energy, than the reality that Ian had left behind. That could explain how someone here had managed to contain his entire universe in a box. Or maybe there were other physics at work here, science far beyond what humanity had mastered.

  Thinking about it made Ian’s head hurt. He was a man of action, not one prone to abstract contemplation. It seemed to him that this was the time for some assertive intervention on his part. Approaching the cube once again, he wrapped his arms around it and nudged. The servo-assisted limbs of his suit enhanced his normal strength by two hundred percent; he felt the object slide sideways a short distance as he applied force. Good; it was not fastened down, and although it was heavy, it could be lifted if need be.

  He was contemplating his next move when suddenly the room brightened. Lights were powering up all over the ceiling, casting an odd red glow that strained his eyes, but bright enough to reveal everything around him. Ian stepped back and quickly took stock of his surroundings. It appeared that he currently stood near the center of a truly cavernous room. Towering banks of machinery rose on all sides, with control panels and instrumentation covering their metallic faces. From the central open area where he stood, four main corridors fanned outward toward the room’s periphery, one in each direction, like valleys between the mountains of equipment. The distant walls were unbroken by any visible openings, although large slabs resembling shutters could mark the locations of hidden windows or doorways.