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They were back and once again in their wheelchairs, their companions of misfortune. Merlin inspected them from head to toe. They were completely dry from the trip back, leaving him no clues about their adventure. He refrained from asking questions. Out of pride, reticence, or because he realized he was no longer a participant in these trips. Merlin was out of the picture. He would have to get used to this idea, and he couldn’t help feeling a little bitter. And there was also the worry he’d felt about letting his protégés go out and explore without any way for him to protect them.
Arthur was the most excited of all, though Albin was a close second. Very close. Arthur let out a “yeehaw” worthy of a cowboy. Merlin called them to order and reminded them they still needed to remain discreet. His colleagues might get curious about such enthusiastic yelps coming from his classroom. He decided to ask them questions. Quickly. They only had a few minutes left before another group of students entered the room.
Merlin was clearly surprised to hear about the curfew and worried by the news that the inhabitants had already figured they were different. There was nothing comforting about letting them make a return trip to Lalea. But he’d made a promise, and his friend had expressly asked him to send this group of students who were a bit less mobile than others. That’s why, despite his hesitation, he planned another interlude to the far side of the universe for their next class, two days later.
On that particular evening, Cosmo’s parents were both home. In an effort to preserve some semblance of a normal family life, they tried to eat dinner together with their son at least once a month. It was an event they had to squeeze into their busy schedules. On this evening, they went as far as turning off their cell phones. It was very important for them to be fully present and totally available for their son. Once a month.
Their housekeeper had prepared a Nordic-themed dinner in honor of the award Cosmo’s father had just received from Norway, a special recognition for his studies on evolution, synergy, and the complementarity of macromolecules in direct relation to pollution and climate conditions. He had done his research outdoors in conditions that hadn’t been the easiest, and in diverse parts of the world. In one particular study, which had taken him several months, the majority of the interns who had signed up to work with the illustrious Professor Scientia had dropped out. He had been there alone to complete the study, though his wife, an ecologist by profession, did send him data concerning pollution in regions with temperate climates.
He had recently completed his report and was already looking for his next topic to of study. These lulls between projects were his only moments he paid any attention to what was going on in the world around him. His family was well aware that it was only temporary. Soon, he would be consumed by a new subject and in the process of becoming an expert in it. He had been born with an extraordinary brain with a limitless capacity to learn. He had already obtained several doctorates and had no problem holding his own with the top scholars on the planet. The only subject he still hadn’t mastered was his son’s fragile limbs. Cosmo suspected that this was one of the reasons why he applied himself so hard in every other field.
Yet, he hadn’t been completely disappointed. His parents’ greatest fear before he was even conceived was to bring into the world a “happy idiot,” his father’s opinion of anyone content with their average IQ, and who never tried to improved themselves. Their worries grew when Cosmo’s mother, who never slowed down her research for trivial events such as pregnancy, had caught a virus while doing what she loved best, working in an underdeveloped region. Her illness had left her bedridden for several weeks. The doctor warned them that their child in utero could be at risk developmentally. Cosmo was born, and his handicap became obvious. Yet, he was the opposite of an imbecile. A genius with limitations, but a genius all the same. And so his parents never had to force themselves to love him.
This particular evening started out like any of their other family dinners. A meal, some banal conversation on a light topic, and then a discussion about current events to fill up the remainder of the time. Out of mutual agreement, Cosmo’s parents never brought up their research during dinner. They both knew from experience that the moment they discussed work, their leisure family time would be over. The week prior to this monthly meal, they forced themselves to think of ordinary issues, anything to get a conversation started, even the weather, current events, or acquaintances they’d happened to run in to. It was a lot of work to come up with a something to talk about; they never approached these meals with a light heart. And also because it was hard for them to find any substance in life outside of their work. It would be a bit much to expect geniuses to be equally brilliant at cocktail party chitchat.
When he guided his wheelchair to the table for the start of the meal, Cosmo had no clue that he was about to completely disrupt his parents’ methodical way of life, sending it into a tailspin. Yet, he had no way of avoiding it. He needed to ask them a question. Too many events had taken place that had challenged his convictions. He needed answers, clear ones, strongly stated, to help him regain a peace of mind. His parents couldn’t have chosen a better name for him; Cosmo needed order in the world. This trip to Lalea made him question a number of fundamental elements that he’d always believed inalterable. If it were necessary to view them differently, he preferred it to be definitive. This was why Cosmo questioned his parents. Obviously unaware of what he would cause.
It was time for dessert. A red mystery dish. Neither Cosmo, nor his parents could identify what was in it, which didn’t stop them from enjoying its surprisingly spicy flavor. Cosmo lifted up a spoonful, and then set it back down. He coughed, not knowing how to ask the question. He started off by stuttering and trying to find the right words, something that rarely happened to him. Cosmo had become adept, to the greatest extent possible, at keeping his composure.
“Do you believe that there could other worlds, um, parallel universes? Because, um, what I mean is, uh, Einstein had a theory about that, I think. Right?”
His parents looked at each other, his mother raising her eyebrows and his father swallowing his last mouthful. They both responded at the same time.
“No, of course not. It’s totally impossible.”
“Why not? No one’s proven anything yet, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
Cosmo didn’t know which one to believe. His mother carried on relentlessly, as she usually did, in attacking ideas that she thought were stupid. Those that were contrary to her own.
“What in the world are you talking about? Stop for a moment and think. I don’t see where parallel worlds would even be located.”
“Between atoms. Cosmo is right. Einstein said, ‘Everything is relative.’ And within that microcosmic space, hundreds of thousands of parallel worlds could exist. We already know that when traveling at the speed of light, space between atoms appears to get smaller. Perhaps there is a way to travel in reverse, in which the space between atoms becomes big enough for us to pass through it. Or through another way.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not any more ridiculous than believing in aliens.”
“Of course! Nor do I believe in that. And by no means will fake model spaceships change my opinion. If extraterrestrials exist, we would’ve already found them, don’t you think.”
“First of all, intergalactic space hasn’t been fully explored, as far as I know. And just because we haven’t seen any, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Nowadays on this good old planet, scientists are discovering animal and plant species that we never knew existed. So my dear, little green guys just might have some camouflage tricks.
“Yes, of course, and the government keeps these things to themselves, carefully guarding the secret, that’s right.”
The argument between Cosmo’s parents was getting heated. Each one loved proving he or she was right. His mother once confided to him that when his father and she met as students, their idea of fun was trying to prove totally wacky ideas in front of other students hardly older than they were. According to his mother, the worst part was that their audience, after listening to their somewhat unsettling arguments, ended up believing they were right. The more ridiculously impossible their ideas got, the more pliable their audience became.
Cosmo tried to draw them back to the topic that interested him.
“Yes, but...what about parallel dimensions?”
“You’re right, my son, that’s what started our discussion. And the answer is yes, they do exist.”
His mother shrugged and said, “Parallel dimensions! And how about the fourth dimension while we’re at it!”
Cosmo ventured to ask a few more questions.
“If they do exist, would it be possible to...visit them? And how might they be similar to our universe?
“Son, I don’t think we could get there, it’s—”
“Of course it’s impossible. They don’t exist.”
“Shut up, woman!”
This particular insult was one of their favorite inside jokes. It dated back to the time Cosmo’s mother had to fight hard to get any respect from her team of all male scientists. But tonight she didn’t find it very funny. She stood up in a huff and left the room. Suddenly aware of his wife’s anger, Cosmo’s father followed her out of the room to try to smooth things over. Cosmo heard them arguing late into the night. His mother had gotten hold of a new weapon, one that could be dangerous for the advancement of science. She wouldn’t forgive the insult unless her dreamer of a husband admitted that parallel universes didn’t exist and couldn’t possibly exist. But he wasn’t the type to give in so easily on a question related not only to a belief but also to a scientific possibility.
Cosmo waited a long while for his parents to come back and give him a definitive answer. It would be an ongoing wait. The very next morning, however, his father began to study parallel universes. He wanted to prove that one of them was wrong. He was practically ready to admit that he was the one, as long as his research demonstrated it.
His topic of study would cause numerous arguments in his marriage. That evening marked the beginning of many nights spent sleeping on the living room sofa. Something new for him. He learned that even geniuses could have mood swings. A discovery that wouldn’t be very helpful for his research.
