by J A Bouma
Father Jim opened the door for Alexander into an entryway that led into a massive fluorescent-lit vestibule endemic of academia. The entryway ran high several stories, elevators at one end and a wide metal staircase taking students and visitors up to the lecture halls and professor offices. An information booth commanded the center, with an attendant sitting at a desk studying.
The cardinal walked up to the young student and asked where some old friends of Dr. Pavlovich could find the good professor. The young man directed them to the third floor and to the back of the building. They thanked him and headed off in their search for time travel.
Outside a closed door with a tiny rectangular window was a nameplate that read “Dr. Sasha Pavlovich, Dean of Theoretical Physics.”
Dean, Alexander noted. He certainly has found success in life...
The two were the same age, thirty-two. Sasha had to have been one of the youngest deans of the university, perhaps in its history. He struggled to stamp down the envy that was creeping up his spine. A verse from the book of James immediately came to mind: ‘For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice.’
Alexander took a breath and crossed himself, praying that Jesus would rid him of such desires. Not only for the sake of his own heart, but the sake of their mission for the life of Ichthus.
He glanced at Father Jim, then knocked on the door. The two waited for a response. Finding none, Alexander turned the handle and opened it. What they found inside was less an office and more a private research lab that separated into two rooms. Inside were several tables stacked high with papers. Books were strewn about and tumbling to the floor. Another table held a collection of scientific gadgets, for what the two could only guess. A door sat slightly ajar near the back, presumably leading to Sasha’s private office.
“Sasha?” Alexander said into the dim void. “Sasha, it’s me, Alex. And Padre, Father Jim.”
The door flung open to reveal a man in a charcoal gray turtleneck and dress slacks, with a head full of tightly curled blond hair. A look of confusion turned into shock and then into pure joy.
“Alex!” Sasha threw down his clipboard and ran over to his long-lost friend, embracing him in a bear hug worthy of the Vostokana brotherhood.
Alexander laughed and embraced him with equal force, all feelings of envy and selfish ambition fading with the love he held for his friend and joy at being reunited.
Sasha then embraced Father Jim with the same gusto. Grinning widely and gesturing he asked, “What are you doing here, brother?” He was displaying the big, gregarious, excited personality for which he was known around Oxford.
“We came to pay a visit to our world-famous professor friend!” Alexander answered.
“Bah! World famous nothing,” Sasha demurred. “You’re the one who’s the man down in North Alkebulana.”
Alexander found his self-humility quaint, yet annoying. How could Sasha compare his discoveries to his pastoring a church in under-developed Tripolitania? Alexander covered up his annoyance by laughing. “Oh, come on, Sasha. Time travel…hello!”
“It is being nothing. But I will say, it is getting me the women, that is for sure!”
The two offered a chuckle as Sasha led them into his office. “Sit, sit!” He gestured toward two plush couches facing each other that anchored the center of his well-appointed study. They sat atop a woven rug of reds and blues and greens with gold-threaded accenting. Must have cost a chunk of Merca credits.
“Wow!” Alexander said as he gawked from corner to corner, marveling at his friend’s academic accommodations. “Not too shabby. The university has clearly been good to you.”
The room felt as large as the nave of Alexander’s church. Thick velvet curtains covered windows that soared the length of the vaulted ceiling, its walls lined with dark-stained wood and bookcases overflowing with tomes ancient and recent. Large floor-to-ceiling paintings of historic scientists, no doubt Ukrainski scientists, peered over Sasha’s important work, framed by gilt and lit by sconces lining the walls glowing orange. A large desk commanded the farside of the room, littered with the work of someone on a mission to make monumental discoveries. Another table with wingback rolling chairs sat off to the side piled high with more papers and books.
Envy began to once again worm its way through Alexander’s consciousness as he stood staring and salivating at Sasha’s outward accomplishments.
“Sit, sit!” Sasha motioned again as he ran over to a minibar tucked in between bookcases on one wall. “What you be wanting? I got beer from Germania, Scotch from Britannia, Ukrainski vodka, some low-grade vodka from Muscovia…anything?”
“Vodka and tonic for me, Sasha, thank you,” said Father Jim.
Sasha eyed Father Jim, waiting for him to finish.
“Ukrainski vodka, of course,” he winked.
“Ah, good choice Father, good choice.” Sasha smiled eagerly and began fixing his old professor a drink. “Ukrainski candy is what that is. Now what you be wanting, Alex?”
“Scotch. Neat, please.”
“Scotch? Bah! You stayed in Britannia too long, my friend.”
He finished preparing the drinks and bounded over to his friends, mouth wide and hair flopping with every step. After handing them their drinks, he went back for his own, straight vodka in a crystal tumbler with two cubes of ice. From the looks of it, probably his third or forth that evening.
Sasha returned and sank into a leather chair, still smiling. “So, you come all the way from Britannia and Tripolitania to see little Sasha?” He took a large sip from his tumbler and sighed with pleasure.
Father Jim glanced at Alexander, smiling but preparing himself for the next step in the conversation.
“Of course! I mean, time travel. Goodness, my boy! I remember you spouting off some nonsense once in class about time phasing or something or other. The fourth dimension, right?”
“Exactly!” the Ukrainski man said, shifting in his seat by crossing both legs underneath himself like a pretzel, as if getting ready to launch into a lesson on the mechanics and intricacies of his discovery.
“Fascinating,” Father Jim said, intercepting him. “Now, don’t tell me you’ve trotted off to change your grades for my religion classes.” He laughed and Alex followed his lead.
Sasha giggled. “No, don’t you be worrying about that, professor.”
“But you’ve traveled, though. Yes?” Father Ferraro leaned back and took a long sip, holding Sasha’s gaze and eyeing his every movement, searching for a hint of what his former student might be able to offer Ichthus.
Sasha held his smile and took another long sip of vodka. He paused before continuing, then said, “Let’s just say, discovering time travel is one thing. Traveling through time is quite another.”
“Oh,” Father Jim said with disappointment, his face falling and shoulders slouching. “But the DiviNet report made it sound like you broke the code to traveling back in time, like it was possible.” A desperation began to seep through his words, something that Sasha picked up on.
“Why this talk of time travel, huh? I thought you were coming here to say hello to old friend, not talk time travel.”
“Oh, we did,” Alexander said sitting up, trying to recover from the shift in the conversation. He also decided to go for it—what was there to lose? “But we also came for another reason.” He glanced at Father Jim, who nodded in approval. “We need your help, Sasha.”
“Help? How can I be helping you? I’m just a physicist. I’m not religious.”
“Sasha,” Father Jim began, “did you see the OneWorld News report a few weeks ago about the bombings in Tripoli?”
Sasha twisted his face and took another mouthful of vodka. “Yes, horrible, horrible news. The son of a colleague from another university in North Alkebulana was killed in the bombing. They never recovered his body.” Sasha’s face was downcast as he drained his drink. He promptly got up to prepare himself another.
“And d
id you hear about Panligo?”
“Pan-what?” he said from the minibar as he poured his vodka, forgoing the ice this time around.
“Panligo. It’s a new religious association that seeks to combine the religious faiths into one.”
“Sounds good to me. There is being too much religious division and fighting if you ask me.” Sasha walked back over, tripping over the corner of the rug and nearly sending his drink stumbling forward. “Damn it. Oh…sorry, Father.” He licked his hands, savoring his precious Ukrainski candy.
Alexander chuckled to himself. But the lack of religious interest surprised him. He thought he would have been more sympathetic, remembering back to their conversations about religion and spirituality in their dorm room. Sasha was a curious guy who grew up in the Byzantine Orthodoxy tradition, but only nominally committed like most of his friends. He couldn’t wrap his mind around all of the intangibles of the Bible and the faith: the creation story in Genesis, the flood, the virgin birth of Jesus, his miracles, his resurrection. He especially couldn’t understand how God could command his people to kill innocent women and children. And then there was the issue of faith itself. Sasha’s rational intellectualism was a stumbling block to his ability to believe. Sasha respected Alexander’s journey, but wasn’t able to join him on it.
“I understand what you’re saying, Sasha,” Father Jim replied. “But the whole bloody venture has sent Ichthus into a tail-spin crisis. Our people have forgotten their faith. Our leaders are leaving the faith and teaching falsehoods because of this Panligo movement.”
Sasha sat listening and sipping his drink, his head bobbing and waving according to the rhythm of his vodka. “That is being horrible, horrible news. But what are you wanting me to do about it?”
Father Jim crossed his legs and let out a sigh. “It’s a bad time in the history of the Church, Sasha. Some of us were sitting around the other night fearful of what might happen. Especially fearful of our people no longer believing. And Alexander, here, had a…well, a rather unorthodox idea.” He paused, considering his words. “He suggested we should travel back in time to help people remember what Ichthus has always believed.”
Sasha was silent, his face glistening and eyes bearing a glazed quality to them. Father Jim glanced at Alexander and then looked back to the same confused looking Sasha. Who finally broke his stare with a burst of laughter.
“That is being a good one, Father!” he roared, continuing his outburst, his joviality clearly lubricated by his Ukrainski candy. Alexander and Father Jim joined in.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a time machine somewhere around here would you, old friend?” Alexander said, laughing at the suggestion. Sasha laughed even harder, setting his drink down.
“Now that is being a good one, Alex!” Sasha exclaimed, throwing his head back and guffawing loudly. “But we were saying nothing about a machine. Only discovery. And I can’t be saying nothing more,” he continued with a hush, pressing a finger up to his lips. “No siree, I won’t being spilling no beans.”
He shook his finger and pressed it to his lips again, then picked his glass back up. Was he trying to control his well-lubricated tongue that was beginning to slip away from him?
Alexander shot Father Jim a look of encouragement, smiling at Sasha’s slip. Did a machine indeed exist, but just not publicly? The problem was how to get him to talk about it, much less share it with them.
“So there is such a machine, then,” Father Jim said bluntly, leaning back in his chair, his drink half drained, flashing his former student a knowing look.
“I was not saying that. I was not saying nothing,” Sasha replied, voice rising in slurry opposition.
“Come on, Sasha, don’t be modest! Not only did you discover time travel, you created a machine that can do just that, didn’t you?” Father Jim was playing on Sasha’s pride, hoping he would slip and confess the existence of such a device.
“Enough! I cannot be talking to you about this. No one can be knowing.” Then he paused, taking another sip. He mumbled, “No one does know.”
The two Fidelium officials threw each other a hopeful glance, moving to the edge of their seats.
“Know what, old friend?” Alexander whispered, willing him onward to reveal what was hidden to the world.
Behind Sasha’s eyes, he could see the gears turning, trying to decide how to proceed, determining where to navigate a conversation that was running away from him. Perhaps divining whether he could trust his longtime, long-lost friend, as well as his former professor.
The study air hung in stiff silence as both sides waited for the other to reveal or retract. Sasha looked into his now empty glass, the left corner of his mouth rising in playful, prideful acquiescence.
The man stood and pivoted on uncertain feet. “Come with me,” he simply said, taking his glass with him. He returned to the minibar and calmly placed two cubes in his tumbler, then filled it with more vodka.
“Alex, you are going to be wanting a refill, methinks.” Sasha turned to his friend and said, “Because you’re going to be needing it for what I am about to show you crazy buzzards.”
Chapter 12
After topping off Alexander’s glass with more Scotch, obliging Father Jim the same, he tapped a panel at the back of his minibar to reveal a button hidden beneath. He threw his two friends a glance, rubbed his fingers together in apprehension, and then jabbed it.
A release of air shot out from narrow cracks around the minibar between the bookcases on either side, as if an airlock was released behind it. Sasha pushed the inset minibar forward, moving it on a narrow track embedded in the floor and revealing another room, a private room for Sasha’s private projects. The walls were painted a deep blue, with glowing orbs set inside the ceiling. In the middle was a long narrow table, a workbench. On top sat a belt, about ten centimeters thick and ringed by what looked like four donuts. A small, thin circular object sat next to it that reminded Alexander of the kind of black religious caps worn by the Israelites.
Sasha set his drink down on the table and picked up the belt. “You want time travel. Here you go.”
He tossed the belt to Alexander. He caught the device and eyed it, mesmerized and confused all at once. “This is a time machine?”
“What were you expecting? An ancient phone booth, with wires and levers?”
“Who knows about this?” Father Jim asked, walking over to Alexander and taking the belt from him.
“No one.” Pride was oozing from Dr. Pavlovich as he watched the reaction of his friends, pleasure etched across his grinning face that he could finally share his little side project for the past three years with someone. “I worked on device alongside my theoretical research. I told you, Alex, remember? I told you I would discover time travel.” He was beaming now, clearly relishing the moment of monumental revelation.
“So you’ve used this yourself? You know it works?” Father Jim prodded.
“Not exactly. This is prototype. Well, another of a series of prototypes. I test on rabbits so far. I put belt on, I enter settings, I press button, and poof!” Sasha made an exploding motion with his hands. “They go zoom zoom through time.”
“You mean they disappeared? Rather than exploded?” Alexander asked.
Sasha rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They were not exploding. What, you are thinking I’m stupid? That I am making this up?”
“No, no,” Alexander said, raising his hands to backpedal his joke that had clearly been received as a challenge to Sasha’s work. “I’m just blown away that you actually did it, my friend. You discovered time travel!”
“Bravo, lad, bravo,” Father Jim whispered, as mesmerized by the device as Alexander. He stared off past the two men, his lips moving and eyes darting with wonderment at how the Church could leverage the asset for their own problems.
“So how does this thing work, exactly?” Alexander asked, eyeing the belt in hand.
Sasha took it back and carefully set it on the table, then sat on
a stool at his workbench. “Several centuries ago, someone named Frank Wilczek theorized something called time crystals. It totally revolutionized the way scientists thought about time. He theorized that just as conventional crystals break space symmetry, time crystals could break time symmetry.”
“Sasha, I think you’re losing us,” Alexander smiled, glancing at an as-confused looking Father Jim. “Break it down so we can understand.”
“Sorry. When matter crystalizes, like water into ice, its atoms spontaneously organize themselves into rows, columns, and stacks of a three-dimensional lattice. Each atom in this new object occupies the points where the lattices crisscross one another, but not the space between. So because atoms suddenly have a discrete, rather than continuous, set of choices for where to exist, they are said to break the spatial symmetry of nature. Meaning, they occupy space in a way that’s different than normal. It’s really quite amazing!”
“I bet...” Alexander said.
“Wilczek theorized that if these objects could alter the dimension of space, they could also alter the dimension of time. He theorized that crystals could also occupy time in the same way they occupy space, breaking the normal pattern of occupation.”
“So he did, then?” Father Jim asked, pressing Sasha forward.
“No,” Sasha answered, “but I did.” He leaned back, hands resting at the back of his head and elbows outstretched, a prideful smile stretching across his face.
“Bravo, Sasha,” Alexander congratulated. “But what does that mean?”
Sasha sighed and slouched forward. “It means, objects have four dimensions, not three.” Sasha sat upright, becoming animated again. “Most people think of objects as having length, width, and height, right?” He took a book and placed it in front of his two friends, tracing the sides of the book to illustrate length and width and then the spine to illustrate height. “But what most people don’t realize is that the book also occupies a place in time I call phasement.” He lifted the book upward and traced an imaginary line downward. “Which means you can travel along this line down into time. At one point this book was in the bookshelf, that’s one phase. Then it was placed on this table, another phase in time. The fourth dimension sort of records this phasement along time in the past, just like the x, y, z dimensions record its occupancy of space in the present.”