I sip my wine, remembering my own Professors at university telling me that the ether didn’t actually exist. That it was an antiquated concept.
“So you now think the ether exists?”
“Yes, I do. Innes was very bold, perhaps slightly ahead of his time. But it was when I started trying to solve one of the problems you had brought up that I realised there was probably something to his ideas that others hadn’t realised. I was looking for a link that connected one universe to another. To understand what existed between the universes. And I started wondering if the ether was in fact that link. Could, perhaps, the ether be the manifestation of the interactions between the matter that existed in all the different parallel worlds?”
I cough.
“You’re losing me, Professor. My university days are a long time ago. I’ve probably forgotten more than I ever learned!”
“Okay, have you ever seen that executive toy that sits on people’s office desks? It’s a bar with little metal balls hanging down on strings all the same length. All the little balls rest against each other in a row. But when you lift the end one up, and then let it go, the ball swings down, hits the row of metal balls, and although most of them don’t move, the last metal ball on the other end of the hanging balls swings up in the other direction, to the same height as the first one. It then swings back, bangs into the other balls, and the first ball swings back up… This goes on for quite a long time, but each time the balls don’t actually swing up to the same height as the previous ball. Although each ball transfers most of its momentum to the next ball when it is hit, some of the energy is lost to heat or sound when you hear the balls bang against each other. Eventually all the kinetic energy is transferred into heat and sound energy, and when it’s all gone, the balls just end up hanging down stationary again.”
I nod. I used to love playing with one that sat on my uncle’s desk in his house.
“Good. Now James, imagine that each ball is in fact a parallel universe. And imagine that all the universes are constantly interacting with each other. Banging against each other. In a perfect system, in a vacuum, the balls would keep swinging forever once the first ball was launched. In our explanation of Zero-PIK energy we propose that when energy, light, is transmitted from one place to another, that energy bounces off the fabric of a parallel world and is reflected back onto its path. The ether is in fact a simple way of describing the continuous interactions of one parallel world with another. The existence of each parallel world, supports the existence of other parallel worlds. And when energy flows from a spatial position in one parallel world across to another – imagine shining a torch across the sky on a dark night – the energy or the light – only manages to make it to its destination at the other end having been bounced off the ether en route.”
“I don’t understand…”
The Professor laughs. Although perhaps not at me. I get the impression it’s more out of frustration at himself for not being able to explain it better.
“I’m sorry, James. I think you have to be slightly mad to understand it. Innes was probably slightly mad. And so am I. You are clearly not!”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. I go with the compliment.
“So, but how does this help your idea? Where’s the connection to finding a way of getting free energy?”
“Basically, I’ve suggested that there is a way to suck out some of the energy that exists in the space between the parallel worlds. To convert some of the ether to energy.” He pauses. “Okay, James, imagine it this way. You, my boy, have stepped between two parallel worlds. We know this is true. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here now. To get here, imagine that you put your foot on a stepping stone to cross a river from one river bank to another. Each river bank represents a different world. The river running between the banks is the ether. The stone you step on is an energy nodule within the ether. My equations have found a way to describe the form of the stepping stones between the parallel worlds, and propose a way to capture some of those stones and unleash the energy within them within the fabric of one of those parallel worlds. Basically, we tap into the energy which exists between parallel worlds and suck energy from the ether. It’s all around us. Everywhere. We just need to switch on the tap, and let it flow. All I have done is to help describe that energy. There are other people now who are working on building the taps. And once they have succeeded, we won’t need electricity anymore. We’ll all be using Zero-PIK energy. Or at least, that’s the basic idea.”
I laugh.
“That’s the basic idea? I’d hate to hear the more advanced version. I still don’t really understand any of it.”
“Okay, let me try one more time. Basically all you need to know is that parallel worlds exist. They exist alongside each other, and bounce off each other without interacting with the essence of each other. Underneath each parallel world, between them, is a buffer field, called the ether. When you stepped between your world and ours, you stood on the stepping stones. My equations describe those stepping stones. But, by doing so, I’ve helped describe the ether, and by better understanding what the ether is, we believe we may be able to take energy from the ether field from the stepping stones, which are everywhere. The stepping stones are actually fields of energy.”
My face is blank.
I used to think I was clever.
“Is this for real?” I ask, laughing out loud. “And do you have the Noble Prize in the house? Can I touch it?”
The Professor gets up and walks out the room. Five minutes later he returns with a purple box which he slides across the table to me.
He nods at me, indicating for me to open it up.
Inside I find a large, golden medal. It’s about six centimetres wide. And quite heavy. On the front of it is the silhouette of a man wearing a bow tie, with an inscription giving his name as ALFR NOBEL.
“Wow…” I stare at it. “Is it solid gold?”
“Used to be. Nowadays it’s mostly 18 carat gold with a 24 carat gold plating.”
“You must be so proud. I can’t believe I’m touching one…”
“I don’t really deserve it, but they gave it to me, so I’ll keep it for a while. It’s not too shabby is it. It makes a good place mat for my coffee cup.”
I gawp at him, incredulously.
“I’m joking.”
“I also got some money. Which I invested in some start-ups, and which has trebled in value. Which is how I can afford to live comfortably for the rest of my life. If the virus doesn’t get me first.”
“This is all amazing. Who’d have ever thought any of this could happen eight years ago.”
“No one. You can never predict the future.”
“Unless you’ve been there.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Surely, if you can go forward in time, then you can go back too?”
The Professor shakes his head.
“It’s highly unlikely that anyone can go backwards in time. I may be wrong, but it’s not something I currently believe could happen.”
“Professor, my mother died last year. I just learned about it yesterday, but for some strange reason I can’t really believe it. I don’t feel it. To me this is all still a dream. It might be real. It probably is all real. But not in my world. In my time. One day, I’m going to go home, and I’m convinced that I will get to meet my mum again. I know it. I feel it in my bones. If I didn’t, I’d be in tears just now. But I’m not.”
“I hope you’re right, James. I do hope you’re right.”
I see the sincerity in his eyes, and I know he wishes it to be true.
I nod. Swallow hard, then pick up my knife and fork again.
For a few moments we eat in peace.
I decide to change the subject.
“All this good living has taken years off you,” I compliment the Professor. “I’d swear you look younger now than you did eight years ago.”
The Professor finishes the last of his meal, a
nd pushes back slightly from the table, rubbing his stomach.
“Ah, well, there’s a good explanation for that.” He smiles. “And that may be because, biologically, I am now younger than I was eight years ago, the last time you saw me.”
“You’re not making any sense,” I raise my eyebrows, sipping my wine.
“I can’t say too much about it, James. But, because of the research I’m doing on the Zero-PIK energy, the Government considers me to be a national asset, and my health is of national concern. So, I was enrolled in the Chymera Project. It is basically a new special health programme that gives members access to the latest health treatments. They are all amazing. The idea is that the government doesn’t want me to die anytime soon, or of old age, so the Chymera Project basically reverses the ageing process. The longer I do the treatment, the healthier I get. And for every year that passes, I get about eight years younger. I’ve been on the programme for about eighteen months now. Which means that theoretically, biologically, I am now almost twelve years younger than I was when I started the programme. But given that I haven’t seen you in eight years, technically I’m actually only four years younger since the last time you saw me eight years ago.”
“Are you joking?” I can’t quite believe what I am hearing.
“Nope. But you can’t tell anyone else about it. You must swear to me, you won’t.”
“I promise.”
I am staring at the Professor. Looking at his skin. His hair. His eyes.
It’s incredible.
“Did you get your Blue Pass yet?” The Professor asks out of the blue.
“Not yet, but I was told I will. How come I got that, then? How did you pull that one?”
“I’m on a special scientific advisory board the Government set up to help advise on the future energy policy for the country. I’ve met the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister several times. I called the Home Secretary and told her you were a key researcher on the Zero-PIK project and that it was absolutely essential you were now given free access everywhere during lock-in.”
“And she said ‘yes’? Just like that?”
“They think you’re going to help change the world and put Britain back on top again. Why wouldn’t they? Anyway, James, the key thing is that you’re probably going to need to have free access to roam the streets of London if you’re going to have any hope of making the jump back to your world. You won’t be able to do it if you’re locked down in a house somewhere.”
“So, we haven’t given up on me going home then?”
“No, James my boy. Not at all. In fact, now I know more about Zero-PIK energy fields, we may be able to figure out what went wrong last time.”
“But the tube stations are all closed? There’re no underground trains for me to make the jump from.”
“True. We might have to wait until the lock-ins are lifted. In the meantime, you’ll be free to make your way about the city, or go anywhere you want. You’ll need the Blue Pass to visit your mum’s grave, or Sarah, or even Jane.”
“But why would I want to see Jane?” I ask, wondering why, out of the blue, the Professor has mentioned her.
“Because she wants to see you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she called me. A few years ago. And she made me promise that if I ever saw you again, I’d persuade you to go and see her.”
“Why? Why would she ever want to see me again, after everything I did to her?”
“I don’t know. But she says she needs to see you. She has something for you. Something important. Something you must be given.”
Chapter Sixteen
.
We finish dinner, then although I still have so many questions to ask, I decide that I need to sleep. I’m exhausted. In comparison, the Professor seems full of life. After he walks with me to my room, he says he’s going out to catch some night air and watch the stags in the Glen through his binoculars.
I lie in bed for ages, tired, but not sleeping.
Thoughts of my mother haunt me. What if I never do see her again?
Sarah? My son?
And then Jane.
Why does she want to see me again? Why?
And what does she have to give me that is so important?
Mercifully, eventually sleep comes to collect me, and I drift away into my dreams.
Confused dreams. Dreams of my home in my old world. Dreams of my mother, sitting having Sunday lunch with me in her home in Kingston. And dreams of me playing football with a son I have never met.
When I awake the next morning, there is only one thing on my mind, and for the first time in a year, it’s not Sarah.
It’s Kenneth, my son.
--------------------
“I need to speak to Sarah. I need to go and meet my son!” I say, loudly.
“Sit, please." The Professor insists for the second time, pointing at my chair beside the breakfast table. “You need to eat. And we need to talk about this. I understand why you’re insisting upon it, but James, we are in the middle of a pandemic, and you can’t just go and visit her, turning up out of the blue. It’s not just a matter of whether or not they will want to see you, there’s also the risk you could infect them."
“Or they could infect me, but that’s a risk I need to take.”
“Do you really want to risk losing your son by infecting him?” he asks me, his words spoken calmly and slowly, in contrast to mine.
I was already awake and wandering aimlessly around the Professor’s large kitchen waiting for him to wake up, when he came in from outside. He’d been out for a walk, and to collect some eggs from his chickens. As he started to prepare breakfast, I’d told him about my dreams, and my need to see Kenneth, and Sarah, and although he’d remained calm, the more I talked, the more upset I became.
“What good is having this bloody Blue Pass, if I can’t use it to go and visit her when I want to?”
“James, when the time is right, which could be soon, or later on, the Blue Pass will be exactly what you need. But not now. Now please, eat your eggs. They are going cold. And the grapefruit, eat it too. Vitamin C is apparently very good to fight against Sars-Covid-2.”
I sit, pick up my knife and fork, but turn my head towards the window. The views outside the house seem to demand my constant attention. The sun is rising outside, and the light on the hills, on the heather and the bracken outside is amazing.
“I’m sorry,” I apologise. I look at the Professor, and smile. Weakly.
“By the way, I should let you know, perhaps warn you, that the Home Secretary would like to speak with you at seven tonight by View Portal. I’m afraid that in order to get the Blue Pass, I did have to let at least one person know the truth behind who you were.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you are the first bone-fide time traveller that we can confirm in the history of mankind. Officially.”
I cough, and choke a little on my toast.
“Bloody hell. No pressure then. Are you not worried that some mad scientists will come and put a black bag over my head and cart me away and do weird scientific experiments on me?”
The Professor stares at me.
“So, you think I’m mad?” He says, raising his eyebrows. “But don’t worry, there’ll be no black bag.”
“Ah…” I stutter in reply.
“Yes,” he nods. “You don’t need to worry about that. Officially, you’re with me. And you are under the auspices of the Zero-PIK Project. As far as the Home Secretary is concerned, I am already doing lots of weird experiments on you, so she won’t be interfering.”
The Professor sips his orange juice.
“James, actually, I would like to suggest that you do get a full medical examination. I’d like to compare what we can find out about you now, and all the known medical records we have of the other you.”
“As long as you don’t start cutting out my organs and weighing them.”
“You’ve been watching too many TV
films, James my boy. We’ll start with the basics, like your weight, blood pressure, sugar levels. And then we may want to take some blood samples and do a few ultra-sound scans, if that’s okay. But nothing too major.”
“Ah, so the list grows!” I quip, but then a serious thought hits me.
“Professor, am I free to leave here whenever I want? Or am I actually, here under your control? Like a little mouse in a cage, waiting for you to conduct some experiments on me?”
The Professor puts down his glass, and fork, and pushes back away from the table slightly.
“James, I may be getting younger, but I am clearly not able to prevent you from doing anything you want. You’re young, strong and fit, and I’m no match for you. BUT, and this is the but; you are under my supervision just now, purely because you are in lock-in like every other human in Britain at the moment. With the Blue Pass you can go wherever you want, but you should have a plan and reason for doing it. You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself, and I’d suggest you don’t wander around the streets willy-nilly. The more time you spend outside, the more likely it may be that you get infected. And if you get infected you definitely will not be able to go and see Kenneth, or Sarah. Or Jane.” He pauses, and frowns, then continues. “Now, I would like to do some tests, yes. And I think it’s a good idea that we do them sooner rather than later before your physiology has time to adjust to your new time zone, if indeed there are any physical differences to who you are now and who you were before. If that makes sense?”
Am I Dead? Page 10