Quantum Void

by Douglas Phillips

  “She’s got a broken nose,” the medical tech said. “She’s going to the hospital, not a bar.”

  “Another time,” Marie said, smiling through cotton swabs taped over each nostril. “You’ve got my number. Don’t be a stranger.”

  From the other side of the patio, a young woman yelled out, “Something’s happening out there! This one’s off the charts!”

  The slash in the swirling cloud opened to a yawning chasm that stretched across the sky and swept everything around it into its dark depths. Trees were uprooted, an entire side of one building exploded outward, and debris rose only to disappear into the chasm as if it were an enormous sewer drain in the sky.

  The power plant and the entire area surrounding it vibrated. Clouds of dust rose, and with a roar that was easily heard from their remote position, the buildings and the land exploded upward in a cataclysmic eruption. The cloud of dirt, rocks, buildings, and four smokestacks roiled into the air and drained away into the giant hole in the sky.

  A blast of wind hit them, blowing people and equipment around. Marie shielded her eyes.

  When she looked up, it was over. A few streams of brown dust and debris flowed upward, leaving behind a massive crater where the power plant had once stood.

  46

  External Observer

  Marie relaxed in the comfortable patio chair and took another sip of coffee. “Haiti sounds lovely. I never knew.”

  Nala, her newest friend, sat across the table and finished the last bite of her onion-and-pepper omelet. Warm morning sunshine peeked above a line of small trees that kept the city sounds of Austin at bay.

  They enjoyed a quiet table on the outdoor patio of the hotel restaurant—their rooms paid courtesy of ElecTrek Inc. A comfortable night’s sleep with excellent medication had helped Marie to forget about the broken nose, though it still felt like she had a cold, and the semihard bandage the hospital had applied itched a little.

  The drawbacks of stepping into the role of interdimensional rescuer.

  A hot shower had transformed Nala into the beautiful woman that Marie knew had been hiding under the scruffy appearance the day before. She would become a fast friend—Marie was certain.

  “Of course, there’s poverty in many parts of the island,” Nala explained, “particularly Port-au-Prince. It’s what most people think of whenever I mention Haiti. But, if you get a chance, go to Île à Vache or any place along the south Caribbean coast. It’s really beautiful.”

  They’d invited Thomas and Daniel to join them, but Thomas was already on a flight back to Chicago. Apparently, he had a girlfriend who was out of her mind, first with grief and then with joy that Thomas was alive. Nala said she hadn’t even known he had a girlfriend. For such a gregarious guy, he kept his personal life remarkably private.

  Daniel indicated that he would join them—once he’d finished making a few phone calls. Typical of Daniel. Nala just rolled her eyes, and their conversation pushed on to travel, foreign cultures and languages, along with their shared interest in science. Nala turned out to be fascinated by just about everything.

  “Did you see the morning news shows?” Nala asked. Marie shook her head. “There’s a new ‘star’ hanging over the crater out there. Of course, it’s not a star—it’s a quantum singularity just like we had in the lab. I wouldn’t be surprised if this one hung around for a while. It’s the sealed end to a big chunk of inside-out 4-D space. At least, that’s my working theory.”

  “And it will just hang there?” Marie asked.

  Nala nodded. “Probably become a tourist attraction. But they should put up a sign that reminds everyone how it got there. ‘Don’t get cocky,’ or something like that.”

  “Yeah, people should keep their distance. The Fermilab version produced its own gravitational field.”

  “The headband showed you, right? That’s why you jumped in?”

  “Right. The former headband,” Marie said. An amazing device, but she wouldn’t miss it. “It went up with the power plant, probably pulverized to dust and blasted into that inside-out space.”

  Nala set down her coffee cup. “Good riddance?” She asked it as a question, and Marie had to think before she answered.

  “We should learn from our mistakes. I was trying to prove something to myself. Dumb, really. I shouldn’t have assumed the device would work as advertised. But now that it’s gone, I kind of wish it hadn’t been destroyed. I’m sure some smart engineers could have figured out how it works and then created something better, more tuned to the human brain and without the side effects.”

  “They still can,” Nala answered. “I’m sure the Dancers can make another one, and maybe even send it with some instructions this time.”

  Marie smiled. “Put a label on the side: ‘Warning: continuous use may result in intense hallucinations and a desire to leap into singularities.’”

  Nala laughed. “Sounds like half the pharmaceuticals on the market these days.”

  Marie stared at the table, not focusing on anything in particular. “You know, somebody has to take the risks or science doesn’t advance. My parents were both scientists, my mom works with stem cells and my dad is in genetics. They named me after Marie Curie. I’m sure you know, she didn’t recognize the damage she was doing to herself by handling radium until it was too late. Even after learning that she was dying, she told people, ‘There is nothing to fear in life, only more to understand.’”

  “Brave words,” Nala said.

  “A brave person,” Marie said. “I could never live up to the name.”

  Nala reached out and took her hand. “Nonsense. Thomas and I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done what you did. It doesn’t get any braver than that.”

  Marie looked up and locked onto Nala’s eyes. “Thanks. It was mostly because of that… that…”

  “Fucking headband?” Nala answered for her.

  “Yeah. That fucking headband,” Marie said.

  Nala patted her hand. “Fantastic job expanding your vocabulary. I’m proud of you.”

  It was a good wrap-up for the alien device, a subject that Marie was ready to move away from. “So, what’s next for you?”

  Nala rubbed her arm, a bruise showing just below her wrist where Thomas had grabbed her. “Well, Fermilab has some rebuilding to do before we can get back to any lab work. But I’m going to submit a proposal that we study the baryon-to-boson ratio—carefully, of course. What we’ve found so far is that when we exceed critical density, things get unstable. We’ll need to learn why. It seems to suggest that quantum space, just like the whole universe, is flat. You really can produce something from nothing. I can’t wait to dig deeper into it.”

  Nala looked up, noticing something behind Marie. Marie twisted around to see Daniel walking toward their table. He was dressed more casually than she’d seen him before, with a V-neck pullover and jeans.

  He made brief eye contact with Marie but walked straight to Nala. He pulled out a chair and sat for a moment without saying a word.

  “Before anything else,” he said, leaning close to Nala, “I owe you an apology.” Nala sat perfectly still in her chair, her body language not giving away anything more than polite interest in what Daniel had to say.

  “I’ve neglected you, terribly,” he continued. “It’s the job, of course, but that’s not an excuse. It never was. I want to tell you that I’m sorry.”

  Nala didn’t respond immediately, but she wasn’t crossing her arms and looking the other way either. She seemed to be studying his face, looking for sincerity.

  The silence was awkward, and being a third wheel is never fun. Marie stood up. “I think I’ll just take a break.”

  Nala looked up, her expression much softer than the glare she was giving Daniel. “Don’t be long, dear friend.”

  Marie left the two alone on the patio and found a quiet place to sit in the hotel lobby. She had her own catching up to do. Marie pulled out her phone and dialed Stephanie Perrin.

  “Where are y
ou?” Stephanie screamed into the phone as she answered. Stephanie had returned to Paris to tell her story of their mission to Ixtlub to a waiting French audience. The phone connection to France was good.

  “Austin, Texas. I’m okay. Well, I have a broken nose, but otherwise okay.”

  “Everybody is talking about you. They said the headband made you crazy and you tried to kill yourself. But then I saw the news—one reporter called you a heroine for saving those scientists at Fermilab. Putain de bordel! Marie, what’s going on?”

  A heroine. That was overstating. But as Marie recounted the events of the past twenty-four hours, she could see how it might make a good news story. There would be parts left out, of course. All the fear, the self-doubts and the hallucinations. Stephanie knew all about those parts.

  “Marie,” Stephanie said. “Tell me the truth. Are you really okay? Don’t lie to me. If you need help, I will bust into Ibarra’s office with the cameras rolling and scream bloody murder until he recognizes his duty to take care of his own employee. ESA would be all over this. NASA should be too.”

  “It’s gone,” Marie said. “The headband was destroyed.”

  “I don’t care about the headband,” Stephanie said. “What about you?”

  “Yeah, I won’t lie. It’s done some damage. I can still feel it.”

  “The hallucination you told me about?”

  “I can keep it in check.”

  “But it’s still there?”

  Marie hesitated. “Yeah, Steph, it’s still there. I think it always was. Maybe it’s been with me since I was born and was just exposed by all this mental stimulus. You know, like a genetic disease that only comes out later in life. I read that forms of psychosis are common in women our age, more than men. Maybe it was just my time.”

  “Get help, Marie. Professional help.”

  “Yeah, I will,” Marie responded, and meant it.

  “And if Ibarra gives you any shit, tell me. This is a big deal, and I’ve been worried sick about you ever since you told me about the side effects.”

  “Thanks, Steph… it’s really good to know I have friends.”

  “Forever,” Stephanie said. “Friends forever.”

  Two new friends, three if you counted an alien jellyfish living more than three hundred light-years away. It was both surprising and comforting to find out that people cared. When the world goes crazy, a friend can be the difference between a crushing defeat and I might just make it.

  They arranged to talk again the following week, and Marie returned to breakfast on the patio. Daniel and Nala were absorbed in a conversation. Nala was even laughing—a good sign. As Marie approached, they noticed and stopped talking, another good sign.

  Daniel deftly switched away from their private topic. “How’s the nose?”

  Marie returned to her chair opposite Nala. “It’s not bad. A little hard to breathe, but they told me swelling would be normal. It doesn’t hurt anymore. You know… drugs.”

  Marie allowed her eyes to silently flash the Daniel question to Nala. Nala responded with a small shrug and a twist of the eyebrows.

  Answer received—no headband required. Daniel still had potential, but repentance was in order. Marie smiled. He deserved whatever Nala dished out and would probably be the first to admit it. They did make a nice couple. Marie made a mental note to wish them the best, assuming the two of them left the restaurant together.

  “I woke up this morning stumped,” Daniel said. He clearly hadn’t noticed the eye-to-eye messaging going on right in front of him.

  “Why?” Marie asked.

  He looked confused. “Well, you didn’t mention the headband yesterday, and in all the rush of getting you to the hospital, I admit I didn’t think to ask. But I woke up this morning baffled. I thought the whole idea of the rescue was to take the headband in with you.”

  Marie scrunched up one eye, equally confused. “What are you talking about? Of course that was the plan. I knew the headband would show me things I couldn’t see from the outside.”

  Daniel held a finger in the air like an exclamation point. “Then you didn’t take it off. It must have fallen when you leaped.”

  “Yeah, it did. All three of us jumped to a balcony inside the smokestack. The headband probably fell to the bottom when I hit. Of course, it’s gone now, blasted somewhere up there.”

  “No, no, no,” Daniel said. “I wasn’t talking about jumping into the smokestack. I mean the first time you leaped, back at Fermilab. It must have fallen off there.”

  “Okay, Daniel, now you’re not making any sense,” Nala said. “Marie had the headband inside the 4-D bubble. That’s how we got out.”

  Daniel gave a quizzical look to both of them, still clearly confused. “Hang on, let’s reset. I talked to Jan just a few minutes ago. He said he has the headband in his office. He was holding it while we talked. He wants to know what he should do with it.”

  Marie leaned forward, “Jan has the headband? How is that possible? We were standing at the top of the smokestack right here in Austin, a thousand miles from Fermilab. It was on my head when I jumped. The headband fell into the smokestack; it couldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “She did,” Nala confirmed. “I saw her. How could Jan have it now?”

  Daniel looked at Nala and then Marie, holding one hand to his mouth and tapping a finger on his lip. “Jan said that security picked the headband up off the floor at Fermilab. The security guy said he saw you set it on the floor just before you leaped, as if at the last minute you decided you didn’t want it.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous,” Marie said, waving it off with a shake of her hand. “I had the headband on when I landed—” Marie covered her mouth. “Oh shit.”

  Nala sat bolt upright in her chair. “Double shit. You didn’t have it when you landed, did you? When we hooked up, you told me you thought you’d lost the headband but decided that was part of the hallucinations.”

  Marie ran through her memories of that first leap into the singularity. The sound of steps behind her. The guard calling out. Her determination to jump, backing up and then leaping into the pit. But there was something else. A hesitation, a last-minute thought. Could she really have set the headband down?

  Impossible. She had worn it inside the 4-D space. She’d visualized inside. The headband had guided them to the smokestacks.

  “No. Of course I had the headband,” she said, staring off into the distance. “At first, yes, I did lose it… that’s when Thomas was dead. But then, there was a flash from the light. I blacked out, and when I woke up, the band was on my head.”

  Nala shook her head continuously, a strange look falling across her face. “Superposition. Multiple eigenstates, each existing only as a probability.” She looked at Marie. “You had the headband and you didn’t. It was inside the bubble and it wasn’t.”

  Marie tried to absorb what Nala was telling her. Superposition was being blamed for Thomas’s being dead and then alive, but this seemed like an even greater paradox. “If I didn’t have it, how did we get to the smokestacks?”

  “Don’t expect sensible cause and effect,” Nala said. “This is quantum physics. If you try to match it to our day-to-day world, you’ll only get more confused. Yes, you had the headband, and no, you didn’t. All at the same time. But as soon as we jumped into the smokestack, we left the quantum effect, an external observer came into the picture and the dice stopped rolling.”

  Marie’s heart quickened. She worried about what this detour into the bizarre meant to her state of mental health if Nala was right.

  The words were senseless, but Nala spoke with the seriousness of a scientist. “The external observation ended the superposition. The random probabilities settled on a single result, and as it turned out, you didn’t have the headband after all. From an external perspective, you never did. You set it on the floor. Security picked it up and gave it to Jan.”

  “But our memories.” Marie flinched at the confusion of thoughts. If she wandered
far enough down this mental trap, the hallucinations would no doubt return. “You have the memories, too.”

  “I do,” Nala said. “And those memories are accurate, but that doesn’t make them real. I know it sounds strange, but I think Jan has confirmed the final state. You left the headband outside.”

  “So how do you account for the memories?” Daniel asked. “It sounds like you both remember the same thing.”

  Nala thought for a minute and laughed. “It’s definitely confusing. If an electron could think, this is probably how it would feel too. Marie and I have been in quantum superposition, but now we’ve settled back into reality. What’s left in our heads is… well, a phantom memory, a leftover, an unused probability from the multiverse.”

  “You think we really live in a multiverse?” Daniel asked. “Every outcome exists?”

  Nala shrugged. “Marie visualized it. A hundred different versions of each of us. Not an infinite number of probabilities, maybe not even every probability, but a big number.”

  Her statement hit home. Marie gazed off into nothing. The events of the past several weeks now made complete sense. “I was a probability,” Marie said slowly. “Zin said so. Core said so.”

  Daniel echoed the statement Core had made during their visit. “Nothing is certain. Outcomes follow probabilities.”

  An intensity flooded Marie’s thoughts, and she turned to Daniel. “Did Core know? Is that why Zin chose me? Was this whole thing a manipulation from the start?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Unknown, but highly doubtful. It’s hard to imagine a mechanism for peering into the future, even if you are a quantum computer.”

  “Don’t expect the quantum world to make sense,” Nala repeated. “An artificial intelligence based on quantum computing may be wholly different from anything we can imagine. Who knows what Core can do?”

  Nala had an impish smile on her face. “But I do know one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Daniel and Marie asked together.

  Nala reached for Daniel’s hand and interlaced her fingers with his. Her brown fingers complemented his pink. She reached out with her other hand and took Marie’s.