Time and Technicalities (Timewalkers Book 1)

by RP Halliway

  “The theory is called The Fundamental Theory of Change,” Maggie said. “There is no Time, and everything we experience is based on Observations of Change.”

  “Aren’t you just changing the words from ‘Time’ to ‘Change’?” Silas asked after several seconds of digesting Maggie’s statement.

  “Good question,” Maggie said. “The difference is based on the quality that Change needs an Observer for Change to exist. Time, as science ‘knows’ or ‘defines’ it, exists from beginning to end, with or without observation. For my research, I need to figure out how to prove this easily. I have some good analogies, but no concrete research methods yet.”

  “Are you close?” Evie asked.

  Maggie shrugged. “It’s hard to prove things. For example, suppose someone says there are eight billion people on the planet. How would you know? Have you counted them all? The majority of people will just accept without proof that there is some accurate method to add up everybody, to get that number. Yet we accept that Time has and always will exist—without proof?”

  “But we have proof,” Silas said. “We have documents from the past, and stuff like that.”

  “And when were they written? How do you know? Did you observe when they were written?”

  George raised his hand for a second and then chimed in. “One example that you probably relate to well, and that is in the textbook, is a hotel room. Check in time is at three pm, right?”

  “Yes,” Evie said.

  “And when you stepped into that room, it was organized?” George asked.

  Evie nodded.

  “So, by your observation, the room has always existed in that exact state,” George said.

  “Hardly,” Silas said. “The bed was probably unmade that morning.”

  “Exactly!” George said. “Just because you see something at some point doesn’t mean you can infer its state prior to that observation. But that’s exactly what science is trying to do. Science says ‘Time is moving at this rate, for this reason, and has always done that,’ and that’s a gross generalization.”

  “Or how about a computer and its clock,” David said. “If a computer is shut down and then started up, how does the computer know what happened before it started? It has records, but nothing observable or measurable proves anything about what the computer truly did before it was booted up. All those records could even be copied from another computer onto a fresh drive, and so on.”

  “I still don’t get what the issue is,” Silas said, and Evie nodded.

  “The issue . . .” Maggie started, and then tried thinking of a way to express her thoughts. “ . . . is that we are setting out to define the concept of Change. When we are awake, Change and Time are exactly the same. One second of Change equates to One second of Time. When you fall asleep, you cannot observe Change, so there is no Change, but ‘Time marches on’ or it should, so they say.”

  “But I can observe change,” Evie said. “If something is different when I wake up, didn’t I observe change?”

  “Good question,” Maggie said. “But when did the change happen? If you didn’t observe the Change, you only know it changed, not when, or how long, or at what time, that Change happened. Unobserved Change just creates a when situation.”

  “Ah,” Evie said.

  David jumped in again. “Here is another question. Suppose you watch your favorite television show. Friends for example. It ran for 10 years. If you took a snapshot of the cast at the very first episode and a snapshot of the cast at the very last episode, would they look the same?”

  “They do not look the same,” Evie said, sitting up in her chair with a hint of attitude. “I know that for a fact!”

  The group laughed at her response.

  David continued, pressing the point home. “Point to the moment in Time when they changed.”

  “I can’t, because the changes were so gradual.”

  “Right! It’s another example of Time vs. Change,” David said. “By looking at large jumps in Change, Time can be inferred. But if we look at small chunks, Change is sometimes unnoticeable, which leads to an unknown Time.”

  “So for Friends, over those ten years, Change and Time continued to move. There was a big change in the cast over the years, but in small increments, it wasn’t noticeable. The question then becomes, how does Time figure in?”

  “Which is?” Evie asked.

  “Suppose you sat down and binge watched all 10 seasons,” Maggie said. “And none of the actors changed in age. What would be your conclusion?”

  “They definitely weren’t made over 10 years,” Evie said.

  “Exactly,” Maggie said. “And imagine if a single season had the actors age ten years. What would you conclude then?”

  “That the season took ten years to film,” Silas answered, getting the idea now.

  “Yes,” Maggie said. “The idea that Change and Time go together is fundamental to the human understanding of the world.”

  “And,” David jumped in, “our idea is that Time symbolizes Change, and Time, by itself, does not exist.”

  “I honestly still don’t get that,” Silas said. He’d tried to understand. He really had.

  “Maybe this will help,” George said, handing a copy of a book to Silas and Evie. “This is the text of the Fundamental Theory of Change. It might walk you through the ideas a bit slower than having everything dumped on you at once.”

  “Thanks.” Evie briefly paged through the small book.

  Roger jumped up and ran to the desk, seemingly moving faster than his shape would allow. “This has been wonderful, but I need to get some answers too. We should walk through the multiverse theory now.”

  Just the idea of something called the multiverse made Silas’ head pound. “What’s the multiverse?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if he could handle much more.

  “It’s the idea that there are parallel universes all around us, some with similar general outcomes but possibly different smaller events, and some with major differences,” David said.

  “Like in the Spiderverse,” Silas said, finally latching onto a reference. If he could equate it to something he knew that might help. “Or wasn’t there a show on about that? Sliders?” He’d caught a few episodes on television.

  “Yes, Sliders!” David said. “It had a group of people traveling through the multiverse. They would jump from one universe to another, maintaining a continuous ‘Time’ reference.” David finished by making air quotes around ‘Time.’

  “Yeah, exactly,” Silas said. He finally felt like he was making some connection with the graduate students.

  “What do you mean by ‘Time’ reference?” Evie asked, repeating the air quotes of David.

  “Right,” David said. “They jump from universe to universe, but it’s always the same year. So one universe is very much the same as another with no time travel. They don’t slide into 1850, for example. If a world uses 1850 technology it is because that universe hasn’t advanced beyond that yet. Or if they slide into a dinosaur world, it’s because the dinosaur extinction never happened, but it is still their current year reference.”

  “But that’s just science fiction,” Silas said. “Not reality.”

  “Are you sure?” Roger said. He approached a desk with a long cylinder sitting on top. He watched Evie and Silas intently as he ran his hand over the cylinder. “You mentioned a cylinder in your dream. Something like this?”

  Silas shook his head. “It was more like two cylinders put together and a third not connected anymore.”

  Roger’s jaw dropped. “Then we must discuss the multiverse!”

  “Okay . . .” Evie said.

  “The multiverse . . .” Roger began, running his hand along the cylinder again, “Suppose, at this moment, you need to choose between two equally likely choices, like a coin toss. That single decision creates two equ
ally likely universes—one with choice A, and one with choice B.”

  “But I didn’t choose one of them,” Silas said.

  “In the multiverse theory, a different version of you did, who now exists and will live in that parallel universe,” Roger said. “In this universe you are sitting here today, and in another, you are driving back home.”

  “What if the choice isn’t likely to happen?” Silas asked, “Like if I had to run a stop sign, or break a law?”

  “The probability that something happens factors into the ‘likelihood’ of that universe existing, but because there are infinite parallel universes, the multiverse theory states that any event does happen in at least one of them.”

  “Any event?” Evie asked.

  Roger nodded. “The unimaginable number of universes is what guarantees that every event exists in at least one universe, and more likely within a set of many universes.”

  “How?” Silas asked.

  Roger picked up a piece of paper from the desk and held it up facing the group.

  “Let’s start from the beginning. With this piece of paper and the spiral.”

  Silas and Evie looked at the paper and nodded. “Seems simple enough,” Silas said, “but I’m sure it will get complicated quickly.”

  “The spiral on this piece of paper represents a person’s lifetime,” Roger said. “In the center is the time of birth—or conception, if you prefer.” He pointed to the origin. “The curve is the path of the person’s life afterwards. In the Fundamental Theory of Change idea, the curve on the paper rotates at a set rate—and for simplicity, I have defined it as one revolution per year.”

  Both Silas and Evie nodded, relieved at understanding the basic concept.

  “If this was a standard racetrack,” Roger continued, “the first lap would finish very quickly. But, reversing the roles—where the track moves beneath the race car—the car actually seems to travel very slowly at first, and each subsequent ‘lap’ the car starts to move faster and faster, because the track gets longer.”

  “Oh, that’s awesome,” Evie said. “Kind of like how wavelength is inversely related to frequency for a wave.”

  “Exactly!” Roger said.

  Silas was just going to have to trust them on that one.

  “This is the start of the idea that observation actually influences the perception of time,” Roger continued. “Remember when you are a child, how long it took waiting for Christmas to arrive?”

  The group laughed and nodded.

  Roger continued. “It seemed to take forever, because the observation from the race car in those first years, goes very, very slowly due to the slow speed of the car. An adult forced to drive that slowly would most likely just get out and walk.”

  “And time flies when people get older!” Evie bounced in her seat. “That’s what my dad always says!”

  “Good!” Roger said, smiling at Evie’s enthusiasm. “Time starts to seem like it zips by to the observer, because the race car is now traveling so fast. ‘Where did the time go?’ is a common expression after about age thirty.”

  “So, the speed of the paper is the same,” Silas began, “but because the track is longer, the perceived Time is different?”

  “Quite correct,” Roger said. “The idea that Change is constant—the rotation of the paper—but that produces a different perceived effect on Time is the key idea.”

  “Can you ever prove that Change is constant?” Evie asked.

  “It can be tested by observation and inference through a few thought experiments,” Maggie answered. “But setting up a rigorous scientific experiment is a challenge. Mammals, for the most part, experience about two billion heartbeats in a lifetime. Suppose that a single heartbeat ticked off one second of perceived time. What would that look like for small animals?”

  “Time would seem really fast for them,” Evie said after a few seconds, finally understanding the train of thought.

  “Yes,” Maggie said. “If a small animal had ten heartbeats for every human heartbeat, then time would seem to be ten times faster for the animal.”

  “And it would move really fast?” Silas said. “At least to us, right?”

  “Right!” Roger said. “And an elephant would perceive time moving much slower compared to a human. This is one way to think about perceived Time. I call these perceived differences the Time Dilation principle, my apologies to Einstein. Faster heartbeats experience time on a faster scale. This also fits into the child’s perception of time taking forever, but falls apart at old age, because heartbeats seem to stabilize about age 18-25 and don’t change much after that, even in ages 90 and above.”

  “Still, that is a good thought,” Evie said.

  George raised his hand and jumped in. “Another theory is the Percent of Time Theory for Perception. It’s the thought that the percent of a life—or percent of memory—determines how ‘fast’ time flows. Take the child again. One year for a five year old would be twenty percent of their life—and usually a lot more of their lifetime memories. That year would seem very stretched out, since it is such a significant percentage of the child’s life. To an eighty year old man, one year is only one point two five percent of his lifetime, and therefore would seem to pass much faster based on his collected memories.”

  “Those are interesting theories,” Evie said. “They seem like very solid reasoning, at least.”

  “It was a start, for sure,” Roger said. “But then the Fundamental Theory of Change fit everything much better, not just for a single person, but for everyone.” He waved the piece of paper for the single person. “After defining a single life span, I can start to stack papers—life spans—on top of each other.” Roger demonstrated by putting stacks and stacks of papers onto the holding mechanism on the table. “And with sufficient paper,” he grunted, hoisting the now heavy mechanism with the stack of papers onto a horizontal platform, and clicked it into place, “I can create the entire timeline of everyone ever born, or conceived.”

  Silas and Evie looked at the cylindrical mechanism and holder and took in the stack of paper placed in the middle.

  Roger flipped a switch, after taking a second to catch his breath. “Now the universe timeline is alive!” The cylinder with the stack of papers started to slowly turn.

  “Is that a rotisserie?” Silas asked with a smile.

  Roger laughed loudly at the question. “You’re darned right it is! It spins at a slow speed, but it’s a good visual aid. This is Change. And everyone is along for the ride.”

  The group watched the cylindrical stack of paper rotate for a minute.

  “Does that make sense to you?” Maggie asked.

  “Bits and pieces, for the most part,” Evie said.

  “I wouldn’t want to take a test on it, but it’s at least starting to take form in my mind,” Silas said.

  “Good,” Maggie said. “Remember the power source is actually Change driving this, and each person on their piece of paper is moving along on their path.”

  “What drives the Rotisserie of Change?” Silas asked, pointing to the small motor at the end of the horizontal mechanism.

  “You are interested in the Prime Mover?” Roger asked, wiggling the power cord with another laugh.

  Silas nodded. “If Change is what drives everything around us, what causes Change?”

  “That’s a very good question, and honestly, I don’t have a complete answer. You could call it an external unknown force, or God, or some other invisible mechanism.” He looked squarely at Silas. “What drives Time?”

  Silas opened his mouth like he was going to answer but didn’t say a word

  Roger watched the paper spin for a few seconds. “If my theory just substitutes Change for Time, let me ask the same question back to you. So in your question, ‘what drives Change?’ I would counter with ‘what drives Time as we know it?’”r />
  “Probably the motion of the sun and stars and planets,” Evie said. “That’s how we measured Time, right?”

  “So the motion of stars and planets causes you to age?” Roger pressed, giving Evie a big smile.

  “Oh . . .” Evie said, understanding the implication of Roger’s question. “If something visibly changing created Time, like the planets, or if Time even causes those changes, there needs to be something that moves every atom in a prescribed way toward aging.”

  “That is a good summary,” Roger said. “I don’t know either. I can’t claim to understand what creates Time or Change. All I know is that there is a similar Prime Mover in either system that is outside of our comprehension. My best guess at what it would be whatever controls ‘Entropy’ but I couldn’t begin to answer what that is. Could be God, or Tao, or anything along those lines.”

  “What is Entropy?” Silas asked.

  “Entropy is one of the weirdest concepts in science—the measure of a system’s disorder. An ordered desk, for example, is a case of low entropy, while a disorganized one,” Roger pointed to his desk, with random stacks of books and papers, “has a high entropy.”

  “Things naturally try to move toward high entropy states, messes, if you will,” Maggie said. “It takes energy to keeps things ordered, like a desk or a living cell. It’s quite possible that what we call ‘Time’ is just the consumption of energy to keep things ordered.”

  “Ordered? Like arranged?” Silas asked.

  Maggie nodded. “Imagine a wall of rubber balls that all want to fall down. You would have to constantly be keeping them in place. For every one that you hold up, another one wants to fall off. That’s why it takes the consumption of energy to keep things ordered. The loss of energy due to entropy could be occurring at a constant rate, and if that is what drives Change then the universe rotates at the speed of Change for everyone.”

  “Makes sense,” Silas said.

  “Is the speed of Change important?” Evie asked.

  “Yes,” Roger said. “If the Speed of Change were different for any one person, that person would age differently than everyone else. And each universe may have its own Speed of Change, but if the universes ever interact, any difference in speed would create obvious splits in Time.”