Feedback

by Cawdron, Peter

  As Lachlan finished each page he placed it face down on the table.

  Jason’s heart skipped a beat.

  The back of each page was covered with his trademark fidgeting scrawl, the calculations that wandered through his curious mind. At first, Lachlan didn’t notice, but then he started paying more attention to the back of each page than the printed content on the front.

  Jason clenched his lips, waiting for the inevitable scolding. The funny thing was, he had no idea he’d written anything on the blank side of each page. He could have sworn he’d printed out his assignment and headed straight here. Although, thinking about it, he recalled leaving Mario's around nine. He had gone back to his apartment to pick up the paper but hadn’t left for the university until just after eleven. He'd been doodling, lost in thought.

  By now, Lachlan was completely ignoring the printed side of each page, turning the small stack of paper over and looking intently at the formulas and symbols hurriedly scribbled on the back. He nodded his head thoughtfully.

  “I recognize some of the equations,” he said, waving his mutilated hand as he held the sheets of paper in his left hand, “but sections of this seem abstract. What is it you’re looking to prove in your equations?”

  He held up a sheet of paper. Jason cringed as he looked at it.

  “Ah, it’s just an idea,” Jason confessed, wishing he could shrink into obscurity.

  “Ideas are good,” Lachlan replied, leading him, looking for more.

  Jason wondered if he was going to regret what he said next, but he couldn’t help himself. He had such respect for the professor. He desperately wanted to hear his thoughts on these calculations.

  Lachlan seemed to sense his angst, saying, “Crazy ideas can be some of the best ideas.”

  “OK,” Jason replied. “This is speculative, but speculation is the heart of innovation. You’ve got to think laterally, right?”

  Lachlan nodded.

  Jason continued.

  “There are eleven dimensions in M-Theory.”

  With a slight tilt of his head, the professor agreed.

  “We’ve got our regular three spatial dimensions, plus time, and then seven minuscule dimensions looped over each other like the coils of a snake.”

  The professor listened intently.

  “But by our own admission, we’re dealing with space-time, yet all we ever talk about is space. Time is taboo. We have all of these extra spacial dimensions, but not a single, extra chronological dimension.”

  The professor held up a finger as though he were asking for permission to speak, which surprised Jason a little. Jason paused, letting him talk.

  “But we can’t have more than one dimension in time,” Lachlan said. “That would be contradictory, chaotic. It wouldn't make any sense.”

  “Ah,” Jason continued, “but perhaps that’s the point. We look at time and wonder why it’s not only linear, but ruthlessly sequential, with one second always leading to the next. Cause always precedes effect, but the math works both ways. On paper, time is bidirectional, but in practice, time marches on relentlessly, and yet no other dimension works this way? What's more, we know time dilates just as lengths contract. Everything about time screams that it is a dimension as plastic and malleable as any other, and yet we treat time with kid gloves, as though it were made of glass and might shatter if we squeeze our theories too hard.

  “Why is there an arrow of time? Why is time a one-way street? Maybe it’s because time is not a single dimension at all, but instead it's a clash between two or more chronological dimensions, and so time is propelled forward like an ever tightening ratchet.”

  As Jason spoke, Lachlan continued looking over the young man's notes.

  “Interesting,” the professor said, not giving anything away in his tone of voice.

  “Think about gravity,” Jason continued. “For centuries, people ignored gravity, taking it for granted. No one questioned why the Moon didn't fall from the sky, because that seemed silly. Of course the Moon doesn't fall from the sky—it floats!”

  Lachlan grinned. Jason could see the professor knew what he was getting at. He continued, saying, “It took Newton to rethink the notion and realize that the Moon was falling just like an apple from a tree. The only difference was, the Moon missed! Newton's apple fell and hit the earth, but the Moon kept on missing. It was an extraordinary insight!”

  “Yes,” Lachlan said. “Yes it was.”

  Jason could see the knowing smile on Lachlan's face. None of this was news to him, but like all scientists, he never tired of hearing it re-couched by an inquiring mind.

  “In the same way, think about dark energy,” Jason added. “We don’t know what dark energy is, but we know it drives the expansion of the universe. The problem is, we’re again looking at space as though it were a cohesive element in itself. It’s not. There’s no such thing as space, there’s only space-time. You cannot separate space from time. Dark energy is driving the expansion of space-time. The Big Rip affects not only space but time as well.

  “What if dark energy is the impeller, the impetus for the arrow of time? What if dark energy is what drives time in a single direction within our hidden quantum dimensions? Sending it forwards instead of backwards.”

  Professor Lachlan leaned forward on his knees, holding Jason’s paper before him, his eyes locked on the hastily scribbled equations.

  Jason wasn’t finished. He loved how the professor heard him out rather than shooting him down in flames. He appreciated Lachlan’s willingness to provide him with the latitude to think broadly. He was probably wrong, and he knew it, but even just having the chance to think out loud helped to solidify more ideas.

  “What would you say if I said I could propel a mass the size of Earth to 99% of the speed of light?”

  That got the professor to look up from the paper.

  “I'd be seriously impressed,” the professor admitted. “But the amount of energy required would be astronomical.”

  “Exactly,” Jason replied. “And that's my point, as Earth is already traveling through space at 99% of the speed of light due largely to dark energy.”

  Lachlan raised an eyebrow, but he let Jason keep speaking.

  “We’re orbiting the Sun at 67,000 miles per hour. That’s like traveling from New York to LA in three minutes.

  “And the Sun is orbiting the center of the Milky Way, and our galaxy as a whole is spinning at the dizzying speed of almost half a million miles an hour. That’s what? A flight-time of twenty seconds to get to LA?

  “You see, the issue is whenever we think of accelerating any mass to a significant fraction of the speed of light, we assume we’re starting with some kind of absolute rest, but we’re not. Our local group of galaxies is plunging toward the heart of the Virgo cluster at over a million miles an hour. Due to the expansion of the universe, there are distant galaxies receding from us at 99% of the speed of light, but again that assumes we’re stationary. We're not. We have no reason to think of ourselves as special, as being at rest relative to the universe. It’s equally true to say these other galaxies are stationary and we’re the ones that are racing off at 99% of the speed of light.”

  “Where are you going with this?” the professor asked.

  “Ah,” Jason replied, trying not to get too excited. “Everyone’s obsessed with the speed of light. They want spaceships that can go faster than the speed of light. They look for wormholes and warp drives to bridge the vast distances that surround us, but they’re looking for advances in all the wrong areas. The whole notion of traveling faster than the speed of light is bogus. Light is ALWAYS going to travel 299,792 kilometers per hour faster than us, regardless of our speed. And so the notion of speed is meaningless when it comes to light. My point is, we've asked the wrong question. We don’t need to go faster than the speed of light.”

  Professor Lachlan smiled. Jason could see he understood where his reasoning was leading.

  “Think about the speedometer in a car. M
iles per hour,” Jason added. “Speed is distance travelled over time taken. Manipulate time and you can go anywhere you like regardless of the distance as it will take you no time at all!”

  “Ha!” Lachlan cried. “So these equations are to manipulate dark energy in quantum dimensions, they’re ...”

  The professor’s voice trailed off, lost in thought.

  Jason finished his sentence.

  “Calculations for time travel!”

  Lachlan looked around, his eyes darting from side to side as he spoke, although in the narrow, cramped confines of the anteroom between the lecture halls, there was no way for anyone to be watching them.

  “You cannot tell anyone about this, do you understand?”

  The intensity in Lachlan's voice took Jason by surprise. Lachlan leaned forward, emphasizing his point.

  “I need some time to verify your calculations, to think about the math. You must trust me on this. Not a word of this to anyone.”

  “OK, sure,” Jason replied, not thinking his wacky theory was that big a deal. From his perspective, it was largely conjecture, and the energy requirements to make the concept a practical reality were horrendous. His initial estimates were that a journey of just a few minutes back through time would require the equivalent of the entire output of the Sun over its lifespan of roughly seven billion years! It wasn’t like anyone was going to come up with an energizer bunny with enough juice to test his theory anytime soon. He understood there were probably errors in his assumptions, but even so, the energy requirements weren’t likely to be fulfilled by anything that could be found on Earth.

  “This is important,” Lachlan continued. “I need you to keep this between you and me for now. There will come a time when we can go public with this, but for now you can’t tell anyone, not even your closest friend.”

  He wouldn’t believe me anyway, Jason thought, then he mentally corrected himself. Actually, Mitchell would believe him. He’d believe anything weird. Jason tried not to smile at the thought and struggled not to grin. Lachlan looked stern, he must have seen the subtle twitches, the telltale signs of Jason suppressing his instinctive reaction.

  Jason wondered what Lachlan was thinking. The professor couldn’t have known the zany sequence of thoughts that had flashed through his mind. Lachlan probably thought Jason was a little embarrassed.

  “What you’ve done here is important,” Lachlan said. “I need some time to verify the logic. I need you to sit on this for the next day or so. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  Jason’s phone beeped as another message flashed on the lock screen.

  From Helena: Lily’s freaking out! I’m taking her back to your pad.

  “I ... ah,” Jason began, signaling to his phone.

  “Yes, yes,” Lachlan replied, flipping back through the papers. “You can go.”

  Jason stood and the professor rolled his chair to one side. There was just enough room for Jason to squeeze through beside him if he sucked in as he shimmied past. The professor wasn’t going anywhere. He’d turned on his computer and had a pen out, numbering the back of each page. Jason observed that he was deliberate in his actions, checking against the numbers printed on the front of each page to ensure he had Jason’s calculations in order.

  Jason tiptoed as he squeezed past. He turned and looked back at the professor. The old man was engrossed in Jason’s scribbles. How bizarre, he thought, Lachlan barely looked at his actual assignment. Up until then, the assignment had been such a big deal, it had been the reason the two of them had come into the university on a holiday, and now it was sidelined. Knowing Lachlan, Jason ruefully expected the professor would commend him for his speculative work and still flunk him on his paper.

  He opened the door as Lachlan added, “Tell no one, remember? I’ll be in touch over the weekend.”

  “No problem,” Jason replied nodding. He closed the door quietly behind him, feeling like he was in a library, as though any stray sound could destroy a fragile idea.

  Out in the corridor, he typed a quick message to Helena on his phone.

  From Jason: I’m on my way.

  The outer door opened easily as he pushed on it, but he could hear it lock behind him as he stepped out into sunshine. Jason turned and started walking down the steps toward the bus stop a couple of hundred yards away across the open area. Birds flittered through the trees.

  “Hey, you! Stop where you are!” a voice boomed from behind him, and Jason felt himself flinch even though he’d done nothing wrong. Instinctively, he raised his hands slightly as he turned, expecting to see one of the campus police officers standing there with his hand resting on his holster. Campus police were notoriously paranoid about after hours access.

  “You are such an easy mark,” Mitchell said, jogging over to him.

  “What the?” Jason replied. “Are you stalking me?”

  “A pimps got to keep track of his bitches,” Mitchell replied, and Jason could see he was trying to make light of his comment. “So is Lachlan a happy camper?”

  Jason started to speak, but caught himself, not wanting to betray the professor’s confidence.

  “What?” Mitchell asked, his hands spread wide in a gesture of openness. For a moment, Jason thought Mitchell was going to hug him. “Did he read your paper?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe that grumpy bastard dragged you in here on our nation’s birthday. What a douchebag! What’s the rush? Why couldn’t he wait till Monday?”

  Jason shrugged as they walked along the cracked footpath.

  “Did he have his way with you?” Mitchell asked, half laughing.

  “No,” Jason laughed. “What the hell makes you say something like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Mitchell replied. “I just can’t figure out why he’d want to get you alone like that,”

  Mitchell was fishing. Jason could see he wouldn’t be content until he told him something so he said, “He wanted to show me the desk where Einstein sat before some lecture here back in the fifties.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mitchell replied. “Between the lecture halls, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So he took you into the Holy of Holies.”

  “I guess,” Jason replied as they spotted the bus stop through the oak trees lining the walkway.

  “And gave you a good spanking.”

  Jason chuckled.

  “Was he wearing leathers?” Mitchell asked in a whisper. “Fluffy handcuffs?”

  Jason slapped him on the shoulder. “You wish!”

  It being a holiday, they waited for almost an hour before a bus turned up. Mitchell griped about how they could have walked home in that time. When the bus finally came, they took it to within a block of Jason’s apartment. As they approached the intersection in front of his building, Jason could see Helena sitting on the far corner with her back against a red brick wall. Lily was there, pacing back and forth. Jason waved and Mitchell called out, but neither of the girls noticed them until they crossed at the lights and headed over toward them. Lily was again looking the wrong way down the one-way street while Helena was engrossed with her smartphone, reading something on the screen.

  “Hey,” Jason said, walking up to Lily.

  Lily smiled, blushing slightly as her eyes darted away for a second before returning to look at him. That must have been some kind of cultural thing, he decided.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I am worried about my father.”

  “I know,” he said, taking her hand. Touch seemed like the right response, saying something more than words could convey. “It’s going to be OK, we’ll find him. Either that, or he’ll find us. Try not to worry. Everything will work out. Just give him a little more time.”

  Lily glanced at the color print out taped to the pole supporting the traffic lights. Her own smiling face looked back with Jason’s mobile number written on tiny stubs beneath. A couple of the stubs had been torn
off, but that didn't mean anything. The wording beneath her photo read, “Lee, please call me.”

  “Well, you guys took your time,” Helena said, getting to her feet. It was only then Jason noticed what Lily was wearing. When he’d left her in the morning she was wearing a baggy New York Jets t-shirt. Now she had a snug fitting t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. It was the wording on the t-shirt that took him off-guard. Lily noticed his attention focusing on the words and stepped back slightly, showing off the clothes she’d borrowed from Helena.

  “You like?” Lily asked.

  “Ah, yeah. I guess,” Jason replied, glancing at Helena. She had a grin a mile wide, while Mitchell was visibly trying not to laugh.

  “It’s funny, no?” Lily asked. She pulled at the hem of the shirt, pulling it tight over her breasts so Lee could read the wording easily. Lee had no problem making out the large arrow pointing upwards and knew exactly what the wording beneath said: My eyes are up here.

  “And my eyes are up here!” Lily added with innocence in her voice.

  Helena lost it, laughing as she put her arm around Lily briefly, hugging her as she said, “They certainly are.”

  “I don’t get it,” Lily replied. “This is funny?”

  “Hilarious!” Mitchell added.

  “I’ll explain it to you later,” Jason replied, glaring at Helena.

  “I knew you’d like it,” Helena said, batting her eyelids at Jason. “We girls have had a fun day. Lily is pretty much the same size as my roommate so it was no problem getting her a t-shirt and some jeans.”

  “Hey,” Mitchell said. “Are we going to head off to the fireworks tonight?”

  “Ah, yeah,” Jason replied, glancing at the time on his phone, surprised to see it was already five o’clock.

  “No. We must wait for my father,” Lily insisted.

  Jason gestured at the quiet streets around them, saying, “Lily, I don’t know where your dad is, but I know he wouldn’t want you waiting for him on a street corner. Maybe he got the dates wrong. You could be waiting here a long time.