Dead Again: Or How I Saved Mankind (Chapter 6 of 13)
Chapter 6: Sarah at university,
musings on information exchange, the Dean and stroll in the garden
The
University’s research establishment was impressive. It stood in its own grounds
a few miles outside Cambridge. We approached it along a lime tree lined avenue,
with formal gardens to the right and open fields to the left. The avenue curved
to the right and opened into a large area in front of the Georgian mansion. The
taxi dropped us off at the front steps which led up to an impressive Corinthian
pillared doorway. At the top of the steps, holding the double doors open was Dr
Andrew Jones.
“Stunning
isn’t it – most people are taken back by it. Unless you’re Roman Abranovic, in
which case you use it as a training ground. If you would come this way,
Professor Chambers and Anita are waiting for you in the reception area.”
“Good to see
you all again, Peter, Fritz and, of course, Sarah. You know Anita, of course.” Professor Chambers was
looking extremely pleased with himself.
“We’ve arranged what I believe will be a most
interesting day for you. First a short presentation – nothing too demanding.
Followed by a tour of our facility, I’m afraid that, as yet, our “super
computer” is not delivering results, but what you will hear and see is
extremely exciting and opens up a huge area of research and, I confidently
predict, stunning practical uses.”
“We’ve arranged
lunch with the faculty Dean – he’s keen to meet you. You’ll have a couple of
hours to yourself to catch up on work or walk around the grounds. And finally, I hope you can stay for our
small Christmas Party. It starts quite early – we academic types are like that,
no late drinking or rowdiness. And then a cab back to the station in time for
the train to Liverpool Street. How does that sound?”
He didn’t
wait for a reply but continued. “We’ve a lot to get in today so please follow
me.”
With that
the Professor turned smartly on his heels. Peter grabbed me by the sleeve and
took me to one side.
“Sarah, I
thought you’d arranged the details of the visit with John’s secretary?”
“Peter, I
had, I’m as surprised as you. There was no mention of a Christmas party or
lunch with the Dean.”
“Oh well, I suppose Christmas parties come
with the territory.”
The
Professor peeled off Peter as he led us through the institute’s many corridors.
Fritz and Andrew were deep in conversation and I teamed up with Anita. She was dressed in a neat business trouser
suit, her hair cut in a bob and her make- up perfect. More like a business
consultant than a mathematician.
“This is
your first visit to a research institution?” she asked.
“Yes, I
haven’t been with the Council for that long – a couple of months – and to be
honest I didn’t expect to be invited along with Peter and Fritz.”
“You’ve
managed to be here at an extremely interesting time. John displays the
appropriate professorial “sang-froid”, but beneath that cool exterior he’s a
ball of anticipation and panic. We all are.”
“Here we are
- the conference room.”
With that we
walked into a business like room with a large rectangular table in the middle
of which was placed a projector.
“Right,
please make yourselves comfortable, and help yourselves to refreshments.”
Professor
Chambers poured himself a cup of coffee and bit into a digestive biscuit. He
then went to a large white board which was positioned at the front of the room.
“Andrew is
going to lead on this presentation; I’ll sit in the audience dunking my biscuit
in my coffee. If you have any questions, could you leave them to the end,
please? We have a lot to get through. OK, I’ll hand you over to Andrew.”
Anita
lowered the blinds shutting out the late December sun, and a small side light
held back complete darkness.
“Since we
last met, there have been a number of major developments. Some expected, some
not. What you’re about to see is a series of self explanatory slides and I’ll
add the necessary commentary.”
As Andrew
spoke he hit the “enter” key of the laptop in front of him and a group of green
men with antennae was projected onto the white board.
”You’ll
recall that at our last meeting we described the huge levels of energy generated by our ”Boltzqubit”, and how this
energy was taken away by quanta which appeared to punch their way out of our
space into another space. These quanta carried away the discarded calculations
of our quantum computer.
"That was the
first quandary – why was the energy being taken away structured?"
"There wasn’t
any need for that. Reluctantly, we’d concluded that the information was
organised so that it could be manipulated - somehow, somewhere. Hence the
little green men.”
The next
slide flashed up on the white board, a picture of ten lane motor way, choked
with traffic.
“This
illustrates what, so far, is the most surprising discovery to date. The
information traffic is two way, but while the information flowing from the
“Boltzqubit”, is we think, localised, the information coming back is diffused.
As far as we can work out it seeps into every fibre of our universe. But it is
structured, ordered coherent information.”
It wasn’t
just me that felt a chill of fear as Andrew was talking - this seemed to be not
simply other worldly – it was seriously creepy. I caught the look on Peter’s
and Fritz’s faces – they were as spooked as I was.
Andrew had
moved onto the next slide. It showed two almost identical photographs of a film
star, with a caption line “Spot the differences”.
“This slide illustrates
what we believe is happening. This interchange of information is changing the
structure of our, and no doubt other, universes. The changes are minute; they
go unnoticed unless, possibly, you happen to be where a discrete change takes
place. But even then the changes are very small.”
“What does
all this mean? This is the last slide – Roy Lichenstein’s “Explosion”.”
A large
blown up comic book depiction of a bomb going off was flashed onto the white
board.
“We don’t
know. However, that hasn’t stopped us from coming up with a speculation.”
I wondered what Peter thought of this
speculation. As far as I knew this project was costing the agency a few pounds.
I thought some results might be in order.
At this
point Anita took over. Honestly she could have been presenting a new management
structure to the board of a blue chip company. She was management consultancy
personified. I couldn’t get used to it. But then, Adrian knew many who worked
in the financial world with PhDs in mathematics, topped off with an MBA.
My musings
on the career paths of scientists was cut short by Anita asking a question.
“How do the small changes that take place in
our universe have an effect?”
Luckily she
wasn’t expecting me to answer personally.
“What we speculate is that this informational
energy is able to be accreted. In the same way stars, galaxy, planets are
formed from diffuse gases under the influence of gravity. What would this be like? We can imagine this
accretion informing structures in space-time, which over time can have
significant impact on the nature of both local and distant physical states.”
“We’ve tried to quantify this rate of
accretion and the time taken for these accretions and their effects to be
observable.”
“You’ll
recall that we’d said that the energy flow generated by the “Boltzqubit” was
sufficient to fuel galaxies. That sounds a massive amount of energy – and it
is."
"We’ve
assumed that the energy percolating back into our universe is at the same
level, and if it were distributed evenly, which may or may not be the case,
then one byte of coherent information would seep into our universe per cubic
parsec per century. And on that basis we estimate that significant changes
could be observed over a millennium."
"What the
changes might be we can’t hazard a guess– although Andrew has suggested that one
effect might be at the micro - electronic level. You are sitting at your laptop
typing an e-mail. You find that what appears in the e-mail is different to what
you’ve typed.”
I couldn’t
help thinking Microsoft had got there first.
At this
point Anita switched off the laptop. “Any questions?”
There was a
long silence. Peter was the first to surface.
“One question, Anita, has this effect been
happening all the time or is it a direct result of the “Boltzqubit”? From what
you’ve said the latter appears to be the case, but that seems to be most
unlikely. Why should we be part of a unique event which influences the whole of
the universe and more?”
“That’s the first question we asked ourselves.
Peter. The only way what we’ve told you makes any sense is if what we’ve
witnessed is not unique. We’ve discovered a specific form of a more general
energy source. However, we can’t find any evidence of similar energy flows. If
they do exist, they’re keeping very quiet and that’s unlikely.”
“So how do
we square the circle? We believe the “Boltzqubit” is unique. It is unique
because it has been deliberately created by us. That’s amazing isn’t it? We
have the power to change this and other universes.”
I was sure I
had loads of questions to ask, I just couldn’t think of them at the moment.
Unlike Fritz.
“Professor,
what shape do you envisage an information accretion to be?”
Professor Clements took some time to answer,
and as he spoke his hands kept forming the shape of different sized balls.
“Fritz,
again this is speculation – it depends on the laws that govern informational
behaviour. However, I think it is helpful to imagine it as a ball, possibly
with filaments of incoherent information being dragged around as the ball
rotates. We think there will be some incoherency in any system – not all the
information quanta will remain unaffected by the exchange.”
“We also
speculate that informational energy will be created. It’s a measure of
coherence of the system’s information.”
“We don’t
think the structure – the ball - would be static. Information would flow within
the structure, self organising. This would happen continuously as information
and informational structures are added. So if you could look down on the ball;
from, say one of its filaments you’d see a ball churning away, as information
fell into it and was organised. How this physically affects the universe and
structures in it is anyone’s guess. Andrew’s dodgy e-mail is as good an example
as any other.”
“We seem to
have moved a long way from quantum computation, John.”
“Peter, I
agree. What we have stumbled upon is certainly of major significance. We’re
beginning to glimpse a new way of seeing the structure of information. In time,
I believe, we will have is a way of manipulating information which will be more
powerful than even the most powerful quantum computer. It will take huge effort
and endeavour but I think it is possible.”
And with
that Professor Chambers closed the presentation.
“OK, now the
demonstration. If you wish, we can carry on this discussion over lunch. If you
will please follow Andrew?”
Frankly, I
didn’t get much out of the visit to the “super computer”. I think it’s because
I just don’t have the imagination to be able to translate all the ideas that
were discussed earlier on into a piece of metal. Because that is what it turned
out to be.
The “super
computer” was housed in what I can only describe as an enormous deep freezer.
This was because for it to work at all it had be kept at temperatures as close
to absolute zero as possible. I understood that the computer itself was no
larger than a medium sized car and that was only because it was so inefficient.
Andrew kept saying that once the technical issues were ironed out the size
could shrink a hundred fold and the power would be massively improved.
It sounded very impressive. But all I could
see was loads of instrumentation, pipes and a computer screen. The real
excitement came, I’m told, when one of the banks of instrument panels flashed
red simultaneously.
“That’s the
start of the energy and information blow out,” Andrew informed us. “You can see
that even at this very early stage the levels are huge; within no time they
become immeasurable.”
And that was
it. Not very exciting I thought but the others were very impressed and kept
chattering away as we walked from the research block to the Dean’s residence.
That was
much more interesting. It wasn’t attached to the main premises, but after we
walked round the side of the mansion, we came to a large ancient wall into
which was punched an ornate iron gate. We entered a walled garden – it had at
one time been the kitchen garden for the large house and the Dean’s residence
was the cottage of the head gardener.
I couldn’t imagine anything more romantic. It
stood in the centre of the kitchen garden, a worn redbrick pathway leading to
the front door which was crowned by a climbing rose. Even at this time of year
it was offering up a few deep red flowers; it must have been stunning in full
bloom.
A middle
aged, spare man, with a distinguished head of white hair, was standing in the
open doorway to the cottage.
The Dean was
a formidable catch for the college who, after a distinguished career making
discoveries and money in equal measure, had decided to settle down in academia
– and gifting much of his considerable fortune to the college.
“Ah, John, I
see you’ve brought our guests along. Do, do come in, I’m Dean Alan – that is my
Christian name is Alan.”
We all
remarked on how beautiful the cottage was.
“Yes,
stunning isn’t it, and to think it was only for the head gardener. The only
draw back – if it can be called that – is when I leave the job, I leave the
cottage. No doubt the head gardener suffered the same fate that I will. No, come
on in.”
The cottage
wasn’t large, the front door opened directly into the drawing room and behind
that was the dining room and behind that a small kitchen.
“Now what
can I get you to drink.” the Dean asked when we were seated comfortably in the
drawing room. He served the refreshments from a small drinks table and sat in a
small chair by the front door.
“One draw
back is it’s not very good for large groups. I bought this old chair with me
when I arrived, ideal don’t you think. Tucks away nicely. Lunch will be
arriving shortly.”
We must have
looked confused because he went on explain that his meals were cooked in the
main kitchen and brought to the cottage.
“Very
civilised and convenient don’t you agree?”
The meal,
which was taken in the dining room, was extremely pleasant, nothing over
elaborate or fussy; good plain cooking. The wine that accompanied it was top
notch. By the end of the meal I was feeling rather heavy eyed. We moved back
into the drawing room for coffee.
“Seen John’s
little treasure have you?” The Dean was extremely animated as he spoke.
“We’re all
extremely excited by the progress he and his team have made. But as you will
have heard we are perplexed by, how shall I put it, its singular behaviour. I
don’t have to tell you that that discovery significantly increased the costs of
the research – we have had to curtail other areas of work to enable John’s work
to continue at full speed. We are, of course, aware of how much you people are
behind John’s work and are determined that it should not be under funded.”
Peter
stiffened, “Dean, John has appraised me of the cost over-runs and we will want
to do all we can to limit the impact on the work.”
And then he
relaxed, much to my relief, I was in a very mellow mood after such a lovely
meal and hadn’t the energy to be unamused.
“Even though
you’re some way off from delivering any practical application –the discovery of
the energy “sink” is fascinating. It raises a whole universe of questions.” Saying that Peter sunk his teeth into a chocolate brownie,
The
Professor smiled replying. “It’s ironic that so far the only
information extracted from the system has been whisked away to other universes;
but we’re confident that given a fair wind we should have demonstrable results
within a year or so. What we have stumbled upon is of huge significance. We
don’t understand it; we can’t really explain it and we couldn’t have imagined
it. But it is happening: at the quantum level energies are being created that
can fuel stars. And for what purpose?”
At that point little green men marched across
the room. I tightly closed my eyes and they were gone. The wine and/or the
excitement were headier than I had given credit for.
I was aware
that the Dean was looking at me.
“Are you all
right my dear? I’m afraid this room does get rather stuffy with more than a few
people in it. Would you like to clear your head? The garden is not at its best
this time of year but I can recommend a quick stroll.”
I didn’t
need asking twice.
“Thank you, I think I will. I’m sure the
others can theorise away without me.”
“I’ll join you if that’s alright.” The Dean
had already opened the door and we left the others to their speculation.
We walked a
little way down the path and the Dean pulled out a packet of cigarettes and an
elaborate lighter.
“Do you
smoke?”
I declined.
“You know,
my dear, despite myself I always feel guilty when I light up. Silly isn’t it?
Why shouldn’t I enjoy this small pleasure?”
The winter’s
sun gave very little warmth and our breath steamed with condensation. The
lighter flared and the Dean drew in a deep breath, setting the tip of his
cigarette aglow. Smoke from the cigarette escaped out of his mouth and nostrils
and lazily rose to mix with cold afternoon air and our condensing breath.
I smiled.
“Oh, I think no one begrudges you an occasional puff – as long as it’s nothing
stronger.”
“It is
occasional and legal. But even so, some of the academics here would have me
stop smoking the filthy weed. I ask you and at a University known for its
tolerance and forbearance.”
“It really
is lovely here, Dean.”
“Smoke and
Intolerance notwithstanding?”
Chapter 7: Someone, Somewhere is
making changes to Dead World and Sarah’s involved.
“Rabbit, what changed?” asked Adrian.
“Oh I see what you mean. Well, it wasn’t a
technical change, the sort Dave mentioned - wireless transmitter and receivers
and all that. No, it was a fundamental change affecting Dead World. Quite
suddenly, for no apparent reason, one of the fundamental properties of Dead
World altered.”
“But how did you know things had changed?” Adrian followed up.
“I suppose
you’d call it a rumour - that’s what it was. It spread out from the core, along
and in between the spiral like some sort of a shock wave.”
“The news on the street was that somehow
things had changed. Something different was taking place in the core and this
had changed the dynamics – and here we are.”
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