part0017

Elliott Becton had probably been humanity’s first time traveler. Or a time voyeur, given Zin’s description of forward compression. Flow empros, compress forward time and you could observe the future, if only briefly and incompletely. Then return to your starting point, along with whatever salacious bits of new information you might have picked up. You might even be able to carry a coin back with you.

Becton had probably accomplished all of this. At least, before it had killed him.

The ideas were mind-boggling, but the evidence lined up and it wasn’t just Zin’s confirmation. Daniel had witnessed flowing empros. It made him nervous. If the future was just as easily accessed, then new risks surfaced, and death was not the worst of them. There were several questions that still needed answers.

Daniel took the marking pen from Zin. “Extraordinary, Zin. And some of it makes sense, but not all.” He drew a horizontal line on the white board. “Let’s talk about the most obvious of time paradoxes.”

Chloe and Mathieu leaned against the lab’s workbench. Griffith still held the blue rubber ball in his hand. Maybe he hoped the complex science would become clearer with a prop.

Daniel marked two points on the line, A and B, and tapped the marker on the board. “We’re at point A—the anchor point, as you called it. There’s a future point B, and if we use this quantum time technology to compress forward time just right, we could get a glimpse of what’s happening at time B. Maybe we see a woman walking down the street wearing her favorite designer dress. Maybe we see a city in ruins.”

He drew an arc from B backward to A. “Then we decompress and return to the anchor point.” He held up a finger and turned to his audience. “With new information about the future. Information that allows us to alter the future in both small and large ways. Maybe we locate that woman in today’s world, take her favorite dress and burn it. Then, how did we see her wearing it? Maybe we find a way to stop the city from being destroyed. Then, how was it ever in ruins? In ways small or large, we have altered the future, and our prior glimpse is no longer valid.”

He set the marker down and opened both hands. “Is the future unalterable? Or was our glimpse merely of things that might be? As I recall, Ebenezer Scrooge had this same question.”

“It’s the block universe question,” Mathieu answered. “Does space-time exist as a single unchangeable block? Every event, for eternity, existing all at once. For years, physicists thought they had the answer. The passage of time, along with our free will to affect change, is just an illusion. We’re on page eighty-seven of a novel, and nothing we do will change the ending.”

Daniel nodded. “So? What’s the answer? Is the future invariable or fluid?”

Mathieu shrugged. “We don’t know. Quantum physics threw a wrench into the block universe theory. Subatomic particles don’t behave as if their future is already written. Tests confirm that these particles are ruled by probabilities, not cause and effect. Most quantum physicists now agree that uncertainty is a natural part of our universe.”

Griffith spoke up from the back of the room. “Remember our mission, Dr. Rice. If we thought the future couldn’t be changed, we wouldn’t be here.”

Chloe glanced at Mathieu, her eyebrows lifted in a silent question. The CERN scientists had been told everything about the belt, but nothing about the mission. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure things out. Mathieu shrugged.

Daniel wasn’t going to hide their reason for coming to Geneva, even if the details of the mission remained unclear to Mathieu and Chloe. “How could the FBI be in possession of an explicit message from the future? A future that we may then change? Am I the only one who sees the paradox of that? ”

“Charles Dickens was right,” Chloe said. “The future… it’s, uh… une ombre .”

“A shadow,” Mathieu translated. “Perhaps the future is a quantum probability, allowing for alternate paths.”

Daniel stared at Zin, who stood quietly to one side. The curious but unschooled humans could guess all day long. Other civilizations were apparently far ahead in their examination of time.

Zin responded without any prompting. “Honestly, I can’t say for sure. Even the Litian-nolos still encounter uncertainties, and they’ve been making temporal adjustments for many years. No plan is perfect. Probabilities come into play.”

“Which is one of Core’s functions, right?” Daniel had heard this speech before. Core was a gatekeeper for a collection of civilizations, and it functioned to protect these civilizations from outsiders or from each other. Calculating the probability of failure or success seemed to be a Core pastime. Six months ago, the alien intelligence had even selected Marie Kendrick as one of the pawns in its game of chance.

“Temporal probability analysis,” Zin answered. “Yes, it’s mainly to confine any impacts of time manipulation. Core monitors, analyzes and infrequently steps in to make corrections.”

“And if we were to jump forward to glimpse our own future, would Core prevent us from taking action?”

“Most likely not,” Zin said. “For better or worse, the decisions you make are your own. Of course, if your actions became dangerous to others, then Core might step in.”

“And this is how that other civilization ended?”

“The Sandzvallons of Gamma Carinae?”

“Yes. Did they make a critical mistake? ”

“Disastrous, I’m afraid.” Zin’s open mouth and downcast eyes gave the appearance of nausea, if an android could be sick. “They lost everything.”

“Then our next step is obvious,” Daniel said, looking at Griffith. “Starting with the story of the Sandzvallons, we’ll need to understand the ways in which we could fail before we attempt even the smallest manipulation.”

Griffith shook his head. “If only we had that luxury.” He motioned to Daniel to follow and walked out of the lab.

Daniel held up a hand. “Uh, excuse me for a minute while I clear this up. There’s a lot going on, and my country can be a little pigheaded at times.”

He spoke in a gruff whisper. “The train derailment in Italy just happened. Two confirmed predictions.”

“Wow.” The FBI had expected the prediction to come true, and some part of Daniel had too. But now that it had happened, the surreal nature of the mission was settling in. A nuclear war could be on the horizon.

“I have new orders. You and I need to take this belt to London.”

“Why London?”

“The president will be there. Along with the British prime minister. They’re expecting us, and they’ll need a final briefing from you. From what we’ve just learned, I believe they will authorize use of the belt.”

“For me to jump to 2053?”

“Yes.”

“What if I decline?”

Griffith shook his head. “Don’t even go there.”

“Zin just laid out the risks, and they’re high. How do we even know the nuclear threat is real?”

“It’s real. The Navy and Air Force confirmed an unauthorized access into a secured system to retrieve predefined launch codes. Of course, they reset all the codes, but it shows that someone has compromised the system.”

Daniel took a deep breath. “Any leads?”

“They’re working on it. In the meantime, you need to follow the instructions you gave to yourself.”

Daniel paused in thought. He wasn’t fighting the idea from any selfish perspective. “Look, Agent Griffith…”

“Just Griffith. I don’t use a first name, and if I did, it wouldn’t be Agent. We’re in this together. Let’s start acting like it.”

“Okay, Griffith. Look, it’s not my personal safety I’m worried about. This plan to jump ahead thirty years might be the wrong thing to do. Even a glimpse of the future could alter our present in ways we didn’t anticipate. Time might be like an ecosystem. You take away one thing, even something as bad as nuclear war, and something else falls apart, maybe making things worse.”

“Seems to me the people in the future have already figured this out.”

“Okay. So, if they’ve figured it out, why didn’t they—or me, if that’s who it was in the video—just explain the details of how to stop the nuclear launch? Why do I need to go to the future to find out? What’s all the intrigue?”

“We can’t know the answer to that. Maybe it’s complicated and they need to explain things. Or maybe they have some tips on how to safeguard this new future that we all want. But the message was clear. To prevent the nuclear launch, you need to go to Atlanta in 2053, and I think we both know this belt will take you there. When we get to London, you’ll need to tell the president that you’re ready to do this. Explain the risks if you want, but the president will make the final decision.”

Daniel shook his head. “I hear you, but politicians can’t make the right decision if they don’t have all the scientific facts. We need a basic test of the belt, maybe several tests. I’ll need some more time with Zin, and probably a trip to speak with Core.”

Griffith shook his head. “We don’t have that time. The train derailment in Italy happened less than an hour ago. The Israel bombing is next. The launch may be right on its heels.”

“But how many Italian trains derail each year? It might be…” Daniel hung his head. “No, never mind.” There was time for skeptical analysis in any decision, but denial wasn’t the same thing as skeptical thinking. Confirmation of two precise predictions was strong evidence.

Daniel looked up. “Okay, I’ll grant you that the message is real. But what about the belt? Zin seems to think it will work, but we haven’t tested it.”

“We’ve got the experts right here.”

There were lots of ways to test. Some could be done quickly, but they’d need to get past the login on the belt’s controller. “Fine. We’ve got experts. So, let’s go figure it out. If we succeed, then I’ll go with you to London, but when we get there, I might have some choice words for the president about the wisdom of this mission.”

Griffith put a hand on his shoulder and patted gently. “Good plan.”

Mathieu typed it in, and the system sprang to life. He scrolled through a list of what he said were probably Linux macros:

Chloe beamed as the commands scrolled across the small screen. “Too easy! Flow empros. Let’s try it.”

Daniel couldn’t blame Chloe and Mathieu for their enthusiasm. The belt represented what they hadn’t yet accomplished in their own lab—time compression, the key to accessing the future. Scientists pushing boundaries often leaped at an opportunity to validate theory. It was simply human nature.

Daniel was just as curious as Chloe, but someone had to be the adult in the room, a thankless job. “Remember, this belt killed someone.”

“Becton probably hemorrhaged, as Zin described,” Griffith said. “He didn’t know the boundaries. We do.”

Mathieu picked up the helmet, examining the alien light. “Using this device to flow empros is no different than what we do in this lab. Granted, the components and wires seem a bit flimsy.” He wiggled one of the wires stapled to the leather, loosening it. “But if we keep the compression small, a test should be safe.”

“One moment,” Zin said. His fingertip probe extended to touch a second chip on the belt. A moment later his metal eyebrows raised. “Excellent! I’ve located a log file. It seems Mr. Becton has been quite productive. The node list shows several jumps to various dates in the future.”

“Including 2053?” Griffith asked.

Zin nodded. “Yes, several nodes within that year, but many other years too. The device clearly works, and I do see sufficient control, just not enough built-in safeguards. But the health risks can be avoided if you pay attention to the limits I described.”

Chloe asked Griffith. “Will a test help with your mission?”

Griffith nodded.

She smiled. “Then I will test it.” Chloe grabbed the belt and put it around her waist, cinching it to the final hole.

“No, Chloe, you don’t have to do this,” Daniel said. “We came to you for advice. Give me the belt, I’ll do it.” He reached out, but Chloe pushed his hands away.

“I want to,” she replied and pointed to a chart posted on the wall. “I have completed thirty-seven empros tests. You have one. I have the experience. You don’t.” She smiled to Griffith. “D’ailleurs, mes nouveaux amis , it will be fun.”

Mathieu handed the helmet to Chloe, and she put it on, flipping the visor down over her eyes. With her nose ring and lip piercing still showing below the visor, she looked ready to rumble.

Daniel acquiesced. This belt, this mission seemed to be a freight train he couldn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t want to stop it. A dark tunnel might be coming up, but there could be something fascinating waiting on the other side. Human curiosity was a powerful motivator .

They took a step back while Chloe leaned over and scrolled to a command listed on the display, now upside-down for everyone else. “Bye-bye,” she said and pressed the Enter key.

Prefaced by a quickly rising tone, the yellow light flashed inside the helmet and Chloe winked out of existence. Gone, as if she’d never been standing there.

A slight breeze blew around Daniel, filling the space where Chloe had stood. It had happened so quickly, he wasn’t sure how to react. “Holy sh—”

A voice called from the lab’s doorway behind them. “Ici . Over here.” Chloe closed the door and took off the helmet. She strutted to the workbench and laid the helmet and belt on it.

Daniel held a hand to his head. “Wow. Then it did move you in space. I thought it wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“That’s not what happened.” Mathieu smiled. His hands were behind his back.

Chloe swaggered, her head held high. “This time, I play the game.” She walked to Mathieu and circled around him. He stood ramrod straight, unmoving, his hands still behind his back.

“Connard ,” she said in an accusing tone.

“Yes, I am a shithead,” Mathieu said, nodding. “Now, please, Chloe. Release me?”

She spun him around so the others could see his back. His hands were bound by a white plastic strap. Another strap wrapped around his ankles, making his stance unstable.

“Maybe,” she said in a haughty tone. “Or maybe I leave you this way.”

“Holy…” said Daniel again. “You just did that?” The startling reality of flowing empros was beginning to settle in. Daniel hadn’t felt a th ing. No blip in his thoughts, no hiccup in his breathing. He hadn’t even had time to blink. Yet forward time had frozen, at least for Chloe.

She laughed. “Yes. I’ve been gone… uh, about one hour.” Chloe pulled a utility knife off the shelf and slid its blade open. She held the knife below Mathieu’s grimacing chin.

“Tu te comporteras? ” she asked, clearly demanding a change in his behavior toward her. His head bobbed up and down. She slit the plastic strap from his wrists and then from his ankles. Dropping the knife on the workbench, she leaned against it, her arms crossed.

She puckered her lips and blew a puff of air in Mathieu’s direction. “Puhh.”

Mathieu took a deep breath and rubbed his wrists. “Lesson learned. As you can see, in what was just an instant for us, Chloe has been busy.”

Mathieu picked up the tie strap and examined it. “She’s been up to the equipment room. That’s where the straps came from, two floors above. She probably took the stairs since the lifts wouldn’t work in empros time.”

He pointed to a paper coffee cup on the workbench. “That wasn’t here just a few seconds ago, so she’s probably also been to the CERN café. It’s two blocks away. Did you take a croissant, too?”

Chloe nodded and licked her pierced lips. “Delicious.”

Mathieu walked over to the smug woman and looked into her eyes. “But I think she did more.”

Chloe’s snooty expression didn’t waver. “I did.”

“I think she compressed forward, possibly looking ahead to the future. I wonder what she saw?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She flicked Mathieu away like brushing aside a fly and turned to Griffith .

Her haughtiness disappeared, and she spoke in earnest. “Griffith. I saw things. From tomorrow. Things that have not yet happened. A date on a computer. A newspaper. It was…” She didn’t complete the thought, either unable to find the right English word or perhaps unable to express the emotion.

She turned to Daniel. No smiles, her words simple and sober. “Time compression. It works.”