“No, Maribel, I am thinking of saving the world. And he would have helped us without hesitation.”
“Well, yes, looking it that way, you’re right,” she said. She got up and resolutely wiped the last tears from her eyes as she walked back to the desk.
“He left me a message. Maybe we’ll find some information there. I am opening it now.”
Maribel decoded the letter and had the computer read it to her.
Dear Maribel, Dear Chen, your brief visit gave me a lot of joy. Unfortunately the answer from Enceladus is still pending. But I can feel it in my cancerous bones that something is going to happen there. Therefore, I am sending you my private authorization to use the large antenna dish. If you need help, please contact my assistant Rebecca Greene. She was informed of everything and can be as silent as the grave, if need be, which is rather fitting in the context of this message. She can also set you up, Maribel, for remote access so you won’t have to come to Green Bank for every issue. I definitely wish you success. I wish I could watch in person how you are going to save this planet, but I won’t have that privilege anymore. We’ll meet again on the other side, but don’t you dare bother me there in five months—or any earlier. Yours truly, Robert Millikan.
Maribel had to sit down. The computer voice sounded completely different from that of Robert Millikan, but she still had the impression of listening to the old man in person. He had been a very special man. She reached for Chen’s hand and caressed it.
In the afternoon Maribel drove to her office. From there she called Millikan’s assistant. Maribel was surprised to find out that Rebecca Greene had studied astrophysics, just like she had, and received her master’s degree two years ago. Together they wondered what message to send to the three people near the black hole. The risk of their signal being intercepted was low, since another ship would have to be in the line of sight between them and Object X, by coincidence. This coincidence would require the intercepting ship to be outside of the ecliptic plane, where few spaceships went.
However, this did not apply to a signal sent in the other direction. Anyone aiming a large radio dish at the spaceship could receive its radio messages. And Shostakovich would definitely scan the skies that way. Freitag therefore suggested a code eavesdroppers might not notice—the crew would download scientific papers with certain record numbers from the IAC archive. Each of these numbers would stand for a part of the text to be sent.
It was a primitive code. While they could ask many questions from Earth, the answers would always be brief because of the cumbersome encoding. Still, the very attempt gave Maribel new hope. And she needed that. Shortly after Millikan’s memorial service she would have to bid a terribly final farewell to Chen.
March 12, 2072, Kiska
“Boss, we have contact!”
Doug wondered whether he should unbuckle the belt securing him and his sleeping bag, but then he decided against it. Since they had started drifting through space in zero gravity, he had been sleeping much better.
“Who did we reach, Watson?”
“It was actually the head of the Ark project, that Spanish woman, Maribel Pedreira.”
“How did they get through?”
“Radio,” Watson said. “They are transmitting from the Green Bank telescope.”
“And we?”
“We have to be concise. We are changing the code for each answer so we stay inconspicuous.”
“And it couldn’t be a trick by Shostakovich?” Doug asked.
“It’s genuine, with a 99.9 percent probability, unless Shostakovich had access to the US radio telescope, which is hardly imaginable,” Watson replied.
“That’s fine. Did you already explain to them what we found out?”
“Yes. I hope they can make sense of the few key words.”
“Okay, then let me go back to sleep for a while, will you?”
March 13, 2072, Kiska
Maria removed her undershirt and attached it to a bar with a clothespin so it would not drift away. Then she took one of her precious wet wipes out of its packaging and rubbed it over her upper body—her shoulders, upper arms, breasts, and finally her armpits. The special cleanser tingled, and she did not have to wipe it off because it was completely absorbed by her skin, which was highly practical in a spaceship. Unfortunately the crew had not yet found a way to produce something comparable, so they had to use the wipes sparingly. She put on her undershirt again and looked at herself in the mirror. Even though her breasts were full and heavy, they resembled those of a younger woman. She used to get backaches because of their weight, but now, thanks to zero gravity, she did not need a bra.
The fact Maria could see herself in a mirror was due to her stubbornness. Doug had not wanted to install one at first. He called it ‘unnecessary weight,’ but she had insisted on it and gotten her way. She put on her blouse and buttoned it. She better hurry, as Sebastiano probably was waiting for them with the food. The Italian always got upset if the food got cold.
Her fellow crew members were already sitting around the table when she floated into the command module. She looked at the clock. Right on the dot! Sebastiano unbuckled to get the food. He returned with three plastic bowls covered with foil, and each had a magnetic ring to attach it to the table.
“Tortellini filled with spinach and ricotta,” he said.
Maria sank down into her chair until the Velcro closure attached itself. Then she carefully pulled off the foil.
“Our own spinach?” she asked. She grew spinach in the greenhouse, but she had no idea whether Sebastiano had brought some with him.
“Yes, frozen,” the cook replied.
“And the ricotta?”
“That’s fake,” Sebastiano admitted. “Ricotta mostly consists of a protein group, the albumins. We got those from dried egg whites and the outer hulls of wheat grains.”
“So that’s why you took half of my last harvest into the lab?” Maria asked.
Sebastiano nodded.
“Couldn’t you try to fake something that is really like meat?” Doug asked.
“That would be difficult,” Sebastiano said. “You didn’t really like what I tried to do with tofu or the other one with the protein powder, powdered milk, and potatoes. On our next journey we better bring along a cell culture from a pork loin. With that, it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Next journey? I’d like to be as optimistic as you are,” Doug mumbled.
Maria cut one of the noodles with her fork. The filling really looked like it was made of spinach and ricotta. She tasted it. Without a direct comparison she would not be able to tell it from the original.
“You really outdid yourself,” she mumbled, praising the cook though her mouth was full.
“May I bother you for a moment?” Watson interrupted them.
“Sure,” Doug said. “What’s up?”
“It’s that astrophysicist on Earth. She sent us some interesting suggestions concerning the black hole.”
“And?” Doug asked.
“About fifty years ago there was a popular idea that each universe was located inside a black hole,” Watson explained, “or, to put it differently, that an entire universe could be sprawling inside a black hole.”
“That’s a very creative idea,” Doug said. “But don’t people believe it anymore these days?”
“The idea is still being discussed. It is no longer as popular, because it doesn’t seem to be verifiable. Unfortunately, we cannot look inside a black hole. Therefore it does not matter what is in there, even if it were an exact copy of our universe.”
“Or a spinach and ricotta filling,” Maria said. They all laughed.
“But how does that help us?” Doug asked.
“It gives us an answer and a course of action,” Watson replied. “What do you want first?”
“The answer,” Doug said.
“We were talking about the issue of energy debt.”
“Yes, the question was how something so heavy could come out o
f nothing,” Sebastiano said.
“Well, if we are dealing with another universe, this black hole does not have to go into debt with our universe, at least not for its content, which probably represents most of its mass.”
“Sure, the filling belongs to the other universe,” Doug said.
“Yes. But the shell, the event horizon must be part of our universe, as it could not influence our universe otherwise,” Watson said.
“If I understand this correctly,” mused the cook, “the object would be something like a chicken egg with a thin shell and a filling?”
“You could describe it that way, Sebastiano.”
“Eggshells are pretty fragile.”
“I see what you are hinting at, Sebastiano. Yes, we should think along those lines. We won’t be able to remove the entire black hole. But perhaps we might manage to pay off the energy debt for the shell in our universe.”
“And what exactly do you think would happen then, Watson?” Sebastiano asked.
“The egg might break.”
“This could cause a huge mess, with liquid egg white and yolk everywhere,” the cook said.
“That is the risk. We have no idea what would happen if the shielding between the universe inside the black hole and our own world disappeared,” Watson continued. “In the best case, the black hole simply is gone. Perhaps it takes on an energy debt in another universe and reappears there. Then those people can deal with it.”
“And in the worst case?” Sebastiano asked.
“There is a huge mess, some kind of reaction between the two universes. Maybe the other one consists of antimatter and we mutually annihilate each other. Or we just happen to launch another Big Bang.”
“One in which Earth definitely would not survive,” Doug said.
“No, not Earth, not the solar system, not any of us,” the AI said.
“So we have the unique chance to save our solar system while accidentally destroying the universe. A choice between the plague and cholera,” Doug said.
“Don’t get excited too soon,” Watson cautioned. “It’s nothing more than a theoretical speculation, and it might be completely wrong. One issue with this theory is that the gravitation of the black hole definitely affects our universe. That’s how we noticed it in the first place. But how could that be, if most of its mass belongs to a different universe? All current physical theories assume there are no interactions between individual universes in the multiverse.”
“Then the physicists will just have to rewrite their theories,” Sebastiano said.
“Until now there was no reason for that, as we only had ideas, not proofs. This brings me to the course of action I mentioned.”
Watson paused.
“Come on, out with it,” Doug said.
“We are flying to the hole, are well on our way to it, and we will try to pay the energy debt.”
“Do you have any specific suggestions? Are we supposed to throw stones in there until the black hole collapses?” Doug asked.
“It won’t be that easy,” Watson replied. “Measurements from Earth indicate Object X has already gained some mass. In that aspect it behaves like a regular black hole. Maribel suspects that matter caught the regular way cannot be used to pay the energy debt.”
“That’s only logical,” Siri interjected for the first time. “You can’t pay back debts by borrowing more money from the same creditor. The matter the black hole ingests must be taken from our universe, so it would create a new gap to fill the old one.”
“Yes, Siri,” Watson said in a reassuring tone. “You have to know we argued quite vehemently about this issue.”
“You don’t have to argue,” Doug said. “We are just going to try out whatever idea we come up with. It’s still almost two weeks before we get there. Great job, Watson, but if I understand you correctly, our chances are minimal in any case. We can continue the discussion after dinner, and then come to a decision. Otherwise Sebastiano’s tortellini is going to get cold, and that would be a pity.”
During dinner it was quieter than on most days, even though the machinery around them made its usual noises. At other times Maria felt responsible for initiating a conversation when the silence became too awkward, but now she was too busy with her own thoughts. They could turn around, return to the asteroid, and be reasonably happy there until the end of their days. Or they could go on and try to save the world. However, this might destroy the universe more thoroughly than the collision of the object with the sun ever could. It was also possible, though, they could save humanity by their action. Did they actually have a choice? If they opted for their own safe harbor and all other humans died, how long would it take before their consciences spoke up?
“We are going to do it,” Maria said. “There is no other option.”
Sebastiano swallowed a bite and looked at her. She saw in his eyes that he shared her opinion. “I support it,” he said after a brief pause.
Doug was resting his arms on his knees, staring at the top of the table.
“Watson, what do you think?” he asked softly. Maria could barely understand him.
“Siri and I are in favor of at least trying to do it,” Watson replied.
Doug inhaled though his nose. “Then my opinion won’t matter,” he said, sounding both relieved and frustrated. Maria got up, moved toward him, gently placed her hands on his shoulders and started a light massage. His muscles were all tensed up, but he relaxed under her touch.
March 21, 2072, Green Bank
Maribel nervously grasped the armrest with her right hand. She never used to be afraid during take-off, but she had been in a weird mood since she woke up this morning. Chen caressed her left hand. She noticed sweat trickling down her back.
She had only met Millikan in person once, but his death had deeply affected her. It must be related to the entire situation, the looming end of humanity—perhaps the entire universe.
In ten days Kiska would reach the black hole—Object X. Yesterday Maribel had engaged in a long discussion with Chen about what might happen there. Of course he was no physicist, but that very fact helped her to formulate her ideas simply and clearly. There was only one question they could not answer yesterday. Was it morally permissible to try to save humanity if the entire universe might be destroyed in the process?
“You are still bothered by the moral question?” Chen asked.
Maribel must have whispered something about their previous conversation from yesterday, or was Chen now able to read her thoughts? She looked at him, trying to express how grateful she was. Yesterday’s discussion had helped her get through the day, and maybe this would also work for the flight.
“Yes, I just think... Don’t we have to consider the most catastrophic variant?” she asked. “If the black hole becomes unstable, that would not just mean the end of mankind, but of all life in our universe. Just imagine if someone in another galaxy considered a similar experiment right now. Would you want to stop that person?”
“We are not doing this just for fun,” Chen replied. “Our own existence is at risk, and we don’t even know whether the worst possible catastrophe would occur.”
“Yes, maybe we will only extinguish the other universe inside the black hole,” Maribel said.
“Or nothing happens, and all of us die in about four months. That’s still the most probable outcome. I think it is only human to try to find a solution.”
“Humans have always been good at thinking up solutions at the expense of others. For those whom we would destroy that’s no solution, it is genocide on an incredible scale.”
“You are an idealist, Maribel, and I love that about you,” he said. “If I could spend my whole life with you, instead of a few days, I would launch any experiment to achieve it.”
“It’s because you are selfish,” she said.
“Yes, I am.” He spoke unapologetically.
“The bad thing is, if I imagine having a switch that would select between your existence and that of another
universe, I would also choose you, Chen.”
“That is not very idealistic behavior.”
“Does this make me a bad human being?” Maribel asked.
“It actually makes you a real human being,” Chen said.
“But isn’t that the root of all our problems?”
“Yes, but also the precondition for our existence. If during our evolution the stronger individuals all willingly sacrificed themselves for the weaker ones, we would not be here now.”
“That is a cheap-shot argument, Chen. We left this kind of evolution behind us long ago, where only the rights of the stronger one count.”
“At least we imagine we did. What moves you to turn the switch in my direction, instead of saving a universe?”
Maribel looked directly at him, and after a moment replied, “I don’t know… love?”
“To be realistic, it comes closer to infatuation,” Chen replied. “We really haven’t known each other that long. And from an evolutionary perspective, this feeling helps you ignore my less attractive aspects until you’ve become used to them.”
“This realism is definitely one of your less attractive aspects,” she said.
“But, you see, you still want to turn the switch in my direction.”
“No, I don’t,” she blurted defiantly, and then she laughed. She knew that wasn’t true, and she knew that Chen knew it.
The couple had arrived at Green Bank half an hour early. No physical evidence remained of the snowy chaos they had encountered a month ago. They had driven their rental car through a green, sparsely populated area of low mountain ranges. Maribel kept the car window open the whole time. Sometimes she looked at the scenery, but most of the time she closed her eyes and dozed. She was not in the mood for conversation, and Chen accepted this. Soon after they left the airport he took over the steering wheel. He kept whistling a melody that sounded Chinese to her. However, he assured her it was an American folk song.
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