by Scott Baker
‘I don’t know, man, this is really creeping me out. Where is everyone? I feel like …’
‘Like you’re being watched?’ Shaun said, mimicking Yoda’s voice.
‘Exactly.’
‘I’m almost sure we are.’ Shaun looked up to a dark windowed observation deck jutting out of the rock at the far side of the cavern. ‘But what can we do about it? We may as well have a look around till someone talks to us.’
They continued to explore the domes, the squares and the bridges that surrounded them. The doors were all locked, and their knocks gained no response from any of the buildings. Only the dull hum that Shaun suspected came from the plethora of large monitors gave a hint to any life at all.
The longer they walked and searched, the more they were drawn to the central platform. It loomed, waiting, as if everything here existed only to serve its purpose.
‘How can someone build this in the middle of a mountain? I mean, there’s grass growing over there!’ David said.
Shaun almost laughed. ‘These are the guys who invented time travel, remember? I’m sure they’ve mastered the art of gardening.’
David didn’t argue; he was too amazed by everything. There was nothing that could pull him out of a slump like the stimulation of his inner nerd.
‘Yeah, you never did get to finish telling me how that all works.’
‘What, time travel?’ Shaun asked.
‘Time travel.’
‘I never thought it did. I’d been working on it for years, but I hit a brick wall. It comes back to black holes. A black hole is the ultimate test of Einstein’s ideas.’ Shaun paused, transfixed by sights.
‘The existence of gravitational time warps, even on earth, has been confirmed by experiments. The effects are tiny, but still enough to have real effect on things like satellite GPS navigation systems,’ Shaun said as he continued towards the tall spire that contained the central platform.
‘They’ve got super-accurate atomic clocks on board, and because the satellites are in orbits, where gravity is less, the clocks run faster. But they’re also travelling fast relative to someone on earth, so that makes them run slower. We get a combination of these two effects; the clocks on-board tick faster by about thirty-eight microseconds per day. This sounds small, but if these effects were not properly taken into account, errors in global positions would continue to accumulate at a rate of about ten kilometres each day.’
David began to get the perspective. ‘So, that’s just on earth? It must get even bigger when things get cosmic?’
‘Sure. Time at the surface of a typical neutron star runs at about twenty per cent the speed of time on earth.’
David did some calculations in his head. ‘So, if you were on a neutron star looking out, earth would be only about three and a half billion years old, instead of the five times that they think it is today?’
He never ceased to impress Shaun.
‘Time runs at all sorts of different speeds all over the universe, but wherever you are, you wouldn’t notice anything weird because your brain would operate at a proportional speed.’
‘I get it. That’s a cool idea.’
‘Well, here’s the thing: there are points in the universe where the timewarp becomes infinite.’
‘You mean nearly infinite?’
‘No, I mean infinite. If you were to take something with the mass of say, our sun, and you started shrinking its size, you get to a point where the warp shoots off the top of the chart. It’s a critical radius. For something with the mass of our sun, that radius is around three kilometres. At this critical radius, the warp becomes infinite.’
‘And this was all Einstein?’
‘Well, not entirely. Einstein came up with a set of equations, but it was a German who provided the first complete solution; just before he went off to fight on the Russian front in World War One.’
‘World War One!’ David blurted, looking up from the small blank screen he was examining. ‘You mean people have known about all this since then?’
‘That’s right. Schwarzschild was the guy’s name. It corrected Newton’s laws of gravity at large distances. It was a revolution!’ Shaun said, examining a doorway that was sealed shut.
‘You see, they basically allow you to determine the time dilation at any distance from an object’s surface. Let’s say that you are six kilometres from the centre of an object as heavy as our sun, but the size of a basketball. Then your watch will run at around half the speed of mine in open space. When we see each other, to me your speech will be slow and stretched out, and your watch ticks only one second for my two. To you, however, nothing is unusual about your speech at all. It’s me that you can see who is running and yabbering at double speed.’
‘I think if you yabbered at double speed it might negate that Southern drawl of yours!’ David said with a laugh. Shaun’s eyes rolled.
‘The runaway time warp bugged Einstein in a big way. The existence of this Schwarzschild radius would mean that if something ever collapsed inside its own Schwarzschild radius, then light would become infinitely red shifted and lose all its energy. It could not escape. The sun is thousands of times larger than the size of its Schwarzschild radius, though, so we don’t need to worry.’ Shaun smiled, seeing David’s look of increased concern.
‘But when something does collapse inside its Schwarzschild radius …’
‘Black hole,’ David finished.
‘Black hole,’ Shaun confirmed.
‘So what’s inside a black hole?’ David asked.
‘Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? We can never know. Theoretically, there’s some tiny ball of incredibly dense matter that continuously sucks things in. But we can never get there to have a look. As soon as you get to the Schwarzschild radius, time slows to a halt.’
‘This was your impasse?’ David asked.
‘No, actually, not at all. You see I was wondering, what’s in the space between that three kilometres and the centre? Nothing. There can be no static matter inside the Schwarzschild radius. If you were actually at the radius; you wouldn’t notice any distortion at all. To an outside observer time stops, but not to the person travelling there.’
‘Hang on, I thought you said that we could never get there?’ He now poked at the black screen with his finger.
‘Well, as you got closer, you would eventually get so slow you’d freeze. You would look redder and dimmer until I eventually couldn’t see you at all, your light couldn’t escape.’
‘So, I would stop? Become frozen still in time?’
‘For me yes, but for you, you would fall quite happily past the radius until you were obliterated in the singularity at the hole’s centre. Get it?’
David stopped for a second as his brain churned away.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you say that these things are created by a star collapsing inside its Schwartzschild radius. So, like our sun, it would have to shrink down under three kilometres?’
‘Yep.’
‘Well then, wouldn’t it never do that? I mean, wouldn’t it start to collapse and then as its surface reached the three kilometre radius, it would seem to freeze?’
This guy was the brightest button Shaun had come across in a long time.
‘Good question. Perfect question. You’re right again. To someone looking from the outside, yes, but of course the light would no longer reach us, so it would simply seem to disappear into the blackness. Locally nothing would seem weird except for the fact that you would be squished to death.’ Shaun winked.
‘Okay, well, then if it takes forever, your forever, for me to cross the radius, then once I am inside the radius I’m beyond the end of time.’
‘That’s about it.’
‘But only for you, not for me.’
‘Yeah, what happens inside the radius can never be observed from the outside. No events can be seen. That’s why it’s called the event horizon.’
Shaun had abandoned the door and had started to climb the long spira
lling staircase that led up to the central spire in the room.
‘At the exact geometrical centre of the black hole that would be a point where the gravitational field becomes infinite,’ he called back down as he climbed higher. ‘It’s a space–time singularity. If the singularity exists, then it is a boundary to time itself, and an edge of infinity where time ceases to exist and there is no beyond. It’s a one-way trip to nowhere, and nowhen.’
‘Okay. Well, you know that spaceship ticket I bought? You can have it back.’
‘Thanks. But you know, that’s not what I think happens.’
‘No? What happens then?’
‘Well, I’ve told you that gravity is just a space–time curve, yeah?’
‘Sure.’
‘Well, the general theory of relativity allows for it to be curved round so far that it may intersect with itself. It’s possible that you could “leap” to these points through something called a worm hole. Look, it gets a bit more complicated, but for now, I think I worked out a way that you could simulate the singularity you find in the centre of a black hole, but at an atomic level. The point is not static like Schwarzschild’s equations account for; it’s spinning. In essence you could send a particle through this worm hole from one point in space–time to another. You could theoretically have the particle arrive before you sent it. Faster-than-light travel is forbidden by physics locally, but globally on a universal scale, it’s possible. If you could send a particle travelling faster than light through a singularity, it may arrive before you sent it.’
‘I assume you can show me the math?’
‘I can.’
‘Then what’s your impasse? Why did you give up on the theory?’ David had to yell up to Shaun, who was now on the top of the spire. It was a flat metal platform about half the size of a tennis court. It was covered with blue strips like a strange helipad.
‘Well, it’s a physical more than a theoretical problem,’ Shaun called back.
He was examining the strange markings on the platform, and looking up at the metal arches that intersected above him. On one side of the platform there was a long pointed tube, one end of which was thick, but then it segmented like an extendable telescope into successively smaller tubes until, by the time it reached ten feet into the platform, it was no thicker than a human hair.
‘To hold these microscopic worm holes open, even for an instant in time, would require the energy of a black hole. So, imagine trying to do it for long enough to send say, a person through. There’s just not enough energy to hold the hole open. You could never generate it. The matter is squished.’
‘Well, what about—’
‘WELCOME, DR BLACK.’
CHAPTER 59
David leaped back at the sound.
The voice was feminine, but it didn’t come from a female. It came from all around the room.
‘What the?’
The screen that David had been poking around on now flashed and sprang to life.
‘David, what did you do?’ Shaun asked in his school-teacher tone.
‘Nothing, I didn’t do anything,’ David said defensively.
‘SEQUENCE INITIATED,’ the voice spoke again.
‘David!’ Shaun called down. ‘What’s happening on that screen?’ David looked down at the screen to see a multitude of figures and graphics flashing by. Then, the beeps started.
‘Ah … I, um, I just touched the screen,’ David said, starting to panic as the lighting in the room suddenly changed from blue to red.
‘Shit! What’s happening?’ Shaun said as a low hum began in the arches above his head.
‘COORDINATES CONFIRMED. SECONDARY CONFIRMATION AUTHORISED,’ the woman’s voice spoke again.
Shaun was not taking any chances; he made to leave the platform and get down to his friend. He started to move, but his limbs felt heavy. ‘Whoa … queasy,’ he said to himself, trying to shake off the effect.
David looked down at the screen, which now displayed a series of numbers. Then the sound of hydraulics filled the room, and he looked up to see several doors open. Men began to spill out from the buildings and recesses in the walls.
‘David!’ Shaun screamed as he saw what was happening. He went to move but again he felt too heavy.
The men wore grey-and-blue uniforms and carried nasty-looking guns. A group of them formed a circle around David, but none raised their weapons.
‘Shit, Shaun, get down from there! What are you doing?’
David looked up at the central spire and saw Shaun making an effort to run for the stairwell, but before his very eyes, he noticed Shaun move slower and slower. Then the alarm sirens sounded and the entire Facility was filled with a shrieking ‘Whoop! Whoop!’ David covered his ears and looked around in fear.
‘Shaun!’ he shrieked, trying to be heard above the din, but he may as well have been miming.
‘THIRTY SECONDS TO TRANSMIT,’ came the absurdly calm computerised woman over the massive sound system. Shaun tried harder to move, but with each moment he became heavier. He now stood almost in the middle of the platform. He could hear both the siren and the woman’s voice, and both seemed to be speeding up.
‘COMPRESSION SCAN COMPLETE,’ she said, then almost without a pause she began to count.
‘TWENTY … NINETEEN … EIGHTEEN … SEVENTEEN … SIXTEEN …’
Why was she speeding up? Why could he not move? David was screaming something. He was surrounded by men. There were suddenly people everywhere. Everywhere he looked there were people running and moving. Moving fast.
‘ELEVEN … TEN … NINE … EIGHT … SEVEN … SIX …’
David watched in confused horror. Why was Shaun not moving? Why was he not running? ‘Move, you idiot! Run! Get down!’
Shaun’s attention was caught by the doorway through which he and David had entered. He saw a silhouette; no, two. A man who wore baggy clothes, and – Shaun squinted in the red light – was that a woman?
The woman who was speaking? He wanted to tell her to slow down. In his peripheral vision he saw another movement. This was from somewhere up in the observation deck he had noticed earlier. The office overlooked the whole Facility, but it had dim windows. There was someone up there watching him, looking down. Observing.
‘FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO …’ The woman’s countdown blurred into a stream.
‘David!’ Shaun screamed again, looking down at the terrified expression on his friend’s face.
‘ONEZEROINITIATECOMPRESSIONTRANSMIT,’ came the chipmunk-like sound.
Then something amazing happened. Shaun could not move. He was being held by some invisible force in every direction, like walking in wet cement that had suddenly dried. He wanted to scream out to David again, but he could not.
Systematically, each particle of his being began to separate. There was no description for the pain. The very fabric that held him together was split in every possible direction at once. The electrical bonds that held his atoms together now repelled each other. Shaun Strickland became a cloud of himself, and then he became nothing.
CHAPTER 60
Pain.
Searing, unbearable pain.
Nothing.
Light. Brilliant and white.
Nothing.
Is that my heartbeat? What is that? Stop that sound, it hurts. Too loud.
Nothing.
How much time has passed? Why am I cold?
Nothing.
When is it? How old am I?
Nothing.
God, I’m so thirsty. I have to … what? What do I have to do? What do I … I … who …
Pain.
Who am I?
Shaun Strickland was naked. He was cold, and he was naked. He knew this before he opened his eyes. Though he did not know anything else.
The sounds around him slowly disrupted his sleep. They were the sounds of traffic. Horns and engines and the smells of exhaust. A plane roared overhead. No, he wasn’t naked, it had been a dream. He moved the newspapers up to cover hi
m a little better, but they were painfully inadequate. He had the same dream again: that he was lying here naked and thirsty.
That was how he had found himself three weeks ago in this park. It had taken him most of the day to steal clothes from a dumpster on 5th Street, all while having no idea where his clothes had gone.
He had slept in this park for three weeks. He did not want to leave it because he felt … something. He felt that if he stayed here long enough, something might click. People thought he was crazy. It was amazing how quickly he had come to look grubby and smell awful, but he did not care.
Had he been here in this city long? He did not know. He guessed that he had. He spent most of the morning as he usually did: he looked through the garbage for any discarded newspapers, reading what he could, looking for something, anything, that might jog his memory.
‘Dems wanna hit?’ It was Ernie, who shared the park with him and lived on the far bench. He was mad after years of alcohol abuse.
‘No thanks, Ernie.’
Ernie smiled his toothless grin and took a long pull on the bottle he held within the paper bag. Shaun never accepted, but Ernie always offered. If that were the extent of it, things would be fine, but now the homeless man had made contact for the day, Shaun would be bombarded with at least an hour of inane babble. Not that he really minded; Ernie was the only person who would talk to Shaun.
Shaun suspected that it was because of years of his own alcohol abuse that he could not remember anything before a couple of weeks ago. Consequently, he had decided to kick the sauce. He could not afford it anyway, and he often wondered how Ernie financed his habit. Although, the man did work hard. From dawn till nearly dusk, by which time he was incapacitated, Ernie worked the streets. It must be something in his technique, Shaun decided, because he had a lot more success than Shaun ever did. What a depressing thought. If depression had a physical form, he was it. He did not even know what he had to be depressed about. He had nothing; no money, no home, no memory. He just was. He suspected he would be fine about it too if he did not have this nagging feeling. There was something he had to do.
