The God Particle (17 page)

His phone rings. An international number, country code 41. Allgäuer again.

“This is Landon.”

“How was your lunch, Mr. Donovan?”

“It was wonderful. Thanks for your concern, Karsten.”

“McNair wants to add to the Grid again?”

Donovan doesn’t answer this. Doesn’t ask Allgäuer how he knows, because the answer is clear. Samantha.

“The Grid will remain unchanged, of course. McNair will make no significant changes to the detection effort during this transition.”

“Why don’t we just let him go now, then? Why this lame duck phase?”

“Because he is a well-liked spokesman. He is admired among his subordinates. Haste makes waste, after all.”

“Yeah, well he’s also a human being. He deserves to be treated like one.”

“An ironic statement coming from a wealthy American businessman. Corporate leaders in your country are not known for their benevolence when it comes to consideration for the common worker. A certain energy company comes to mind.”

“Well, I guess you’ve caught me. I guess I have a conscience after all.”

Allgäuer laughs. “You honestly have no idea what to do with your newfound place in the world, do you?”

“Fuck you, Karsten.”

“Either you have no idea, or you choose not to acknowledge it. I read a wonderful passage in an American novel recently. ‘Elective ignorance was a great survival skill, perhaps the greatest.’ I cannot express to you the enjoyment I felt when I read this—finally an author with the vision to see ultimate truth.”

There is nothing to be gained by engaging this man in conversation, so Donovan just sits there, waiting for Allgäuer to finish amusing himself.

“Can you imagine a world, Landon, in which there is nothing left to ponder? No questions left to solve? The miracle of life is just patterns of matter and energy, after all. The universe is just the sum of its swirling particles. There is no barrier to understanding it, given sufficient time and computational power.”

Donovan grunts.

“Did you know,” Allgäuer continues, “that if processing power continues to increase at its current exponential rate, if the overall development of technology stays its present course, in the very near future we will have the ability to manipulate matter in any way we choose? Nanotechnology is only the first step. There is no reason why we will not eventually take control of even time and space. Perhaps the most remarkable fact is that this will likely occur much more quickly than most people realize.”

“I thought NeuroStor could already manipulate matter at the molecular level,” Donovan says.

“Their ideas were novel, yes, but ultimately the technology was crude and produced severe anomalies. Advancements have been rapid, however. Are you familiar with the concept of nanomachines?”

“Machines the size of an atom?”

“Not the size of an atom,” Allgäuer explains, “but built from individual atoms. They are essentially man-made molecules. Like carbon dioxide is two oxygen atoms and one carbon atom, these machines are also assembled from individual atoms, but their purpose is to alter or build new molecules. Imagine rearranging a pile of dirt into a potato, or sending nanomachines into the atmosphere to ferret out greenhouse gases and rebuild the ozone layer. There is no end to the benefits of this technology. Nature is a grand system of molecular manipulation, after all. Human beings inhale oxygen and combine it with glucose to produce energy for our cells, and we expel the byproducts of this process, water and carbon dioxide. Plants combine this carbon dioxide and water with energy from sunlight to make food and oxygen. Imagine purposely manipulating matter at this level, or even smaller. We could play God, Landon. We could
be
God.

“People do not seem to realize how quickly our culture has changed with the advent of invention. There was more technological change in the nineteenth century than in the preceding nine hundred years. In just the first twenty years of the
twentieth
century technology advanced more than in the entire
nineteenth
century. At this ever-increasing pace, this century will see a thousand times greater change than in the previous. Can you even imagine what that kind of change in technology could bring, considering the state of the world now?”

“I’d be glad just to have reliable service on my cell phone.”

“Immortality will be within our grasp sooner than you think. What do you suppose you would do with all that time, Landon? What would you do with eternity?”

“I don’t really see the point,” Donovan admits. “In some ways, I’ve already stopped seeing the point.”

“Have patience, Landon. If you help ensure the success of my project, I may have something that will change your mind.”

10

Nine thirty
PM
. Mike still at work, sitting in the dark, watching the color graphs and diagrams describing the newest cycle on his flat-screen monitor. The beam has been at full energy for thirty minutes, and luminosity is up significantly from their last run—surpassing, in fact, the highest reading ever recorded at the NTSSC. He leans back in his chair and grunts. As frustrating as it is for Samantha to be forced on him, it’s even more maddening to see her luminosity improvements have such an immediate effect.

It shouldn’t matter. They should have found Higgs by now. Mike can preach to Donovan all he wants about how these things take time, that the work is as much art as science, but the real story is that this facility is more than powerful enough to resolve Higgs. Unless the Standard Model predictions are completely incorrect, unless physicists have been barking up the wrong tree for years, this experiment should produce Higgs. Should have already produced it.

If he were Samantha, if he believed, as she does, that there are weaknesses in the software designed to evaluate collision events, he might replace Larry. Find someone else to run the Grid and its team of computer scientists. If he were Samantha, he wouldn’t have to worry about destroying a lifelong friendship. If he were Donovan’s mysterious investment partner, he’d just fire the whole lot of them and bring in a new team.

He could go home now. There is nothing to be gained by personally monitoring a beam run. The detector records thousands of collisions per second. His brain can evaluate perhaps two or three events a minute. That’s why they use computers. Why they built the most powerful network of processors in the world.

He opens Internet Explorer and calls up ESPN. Maybe, with a little luck, the Monday night game will propel his fantasy football team to its first victory of the—

A chime from the speakers and an e-mail envelope in his system tray. Probably someone from the counting house. He clicks on it.

The message is from Kelly Smith.

Mike,

Great to hear from you! I guess you found the online bios? That’s where all my crazy stalker friends get my e-mail address. Not to say that you’re a stalker. Are you? Ha ha, jk.

How are things going at the super collider? Any leads on the Higgs particle? You’re a really smart guy, and driven,
and I know you’ll have success soon. I can feel it.

So I’ve been reading that book you recommended. Letters from the Earth. I’m wondering what you meant when you said I might find it interesting. I’ve heard many of the arguments before, like how did Noah get so many animals on one boat? How did dinosaurs fit on it? And anyway, if the world is only 6,000 years old, how come dinosaurs aren’t mentioned in the Bible? You may be surprised to know that I agree with Twain on these points and personally think people who interpret the Bible literally are pretty selective readers.

Because if you sit down and read the actual stories, which Twain did but most have not, it’s hard to disagree with his sentiment that God is the most prolific murderer in history. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus—these are largely bloody stories of lust and adultery. Even incest.

Today it’s widely believed by Christians that Satan is the biggest source of misery on Earth, but there is no denying that in the Old Testament, God certainly held His own. Personally, I think the biggest source of misery on Earth is rude, amoral people. But hey, that’s just me.

At least Twain made me laugh, as always. I liked how he pointed out that everyone goes to the same Heaven and loves each other, but here on Earth all nations hate each other. Or how everyone’s favorite part of a church service is when it’s over. Ha ha!

Anyway, I need to finish reading through the newscast, so I better get going. But if you get a chance, I’m curious to know what you think about that book. Why would a non-religious person recommend it to someone like me? To make fun of religion, or to reassure yourself? There is this bumper sticker I saw once that I thought was interesting: “If you’re living your life like there is no God, you’d better be right!”

Take care, Mike. Hope to hear from you soon.

Kelly

Mike reads through the message a few more times. He wonders how dumb a person he must be to recommend this Twain book to Kelly. It was only because he had been stalling, making conversation while he gathered the courage to ask for her phone number, but she’d actually gone out and purchased the book. Because she likes him? Respects him? It doesn’t matter. Here he is trying to make a good impression, and instead he keeps insulting her beliefs.

Mike opens a reply and begins immediately to type.

Kelly,

It’s never a good idea to compare science to faith. One is a universal methodology for acquiring knowledge, the other is a belief system. In the US, many Christians find scientifically acquired knowledge to be a threat to their spirituality. They see evolution or the Big Bang being taught in schools and aren’t sure how to reconcile these well-supported theories with their religious beliefs. It’s true that, taken literally, Genesis is incompatible with established scientific record. To a person of strong religious faith, this is deeply disturbing. But often I see retaliatory attacks against science that don’t make sense. The modern world is thoroughly infused with the discoveries of science. Our culture cannot be divorced from it. So to take a few of the conclusions by evolutionary scientists or cosmologists and choose to refuse just those particular theories is not an intelligent reaction.

The lessons taught by most organized religions have provided our world with an ethical and moral backbone. I was raised in a Western, mostly Christian culture and I can’t separate myself from it. I don’t find spirituality incompatible with my work. I would love nothing more than to learn of some underlying, deeper structure of the universe that we’ve yet to uncover. There are fringe physicists who believe that human consciousness is tied to a kind of collective reality comprised of all matter and energy. I have never found evidence of such a thing, but I would love for it to be true. Because like everyone else, I do not relish the thought of death.

I keep telling myself not to be so serious with you. I keep thinking I should tell jokes or something. But we seem to have stumbled into this profound discussion, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it, this thought-provoking conversation with you. I don’t care if the two of us have different views of the world. It’s not often that I meet someone as intelligent and attractive as you. I’d like to see you again.

Hope to hear from you again soon.

Take care,
Mike

He reads and rereads the message. Thinks about tweaking it, about removing big sections of it, deleting the entire composition entirely. The clock reads 9:54. Will he seem too eager if he sends the message tonight? Should he let it rest and read it again tomorrow? Should—

He clicks and sends the message. Enough of that shit. Locks his computer and heads for the door.

11

Near midnight now. Larry lying next to the wrinkled impression in his sheets left by Samantha. He can still smell her perfume, the humid aroma of her, and somehow he doesn’t really care. Somehow the first sex he’s had in three months is nothing to him. He does not feel content, he is not basking in the luxurious pleasure of having spent himself inside her. What has your life come to when even sex with someone new is not enough?

They shared drinks at Toby’s in Wichita Falls, ostensibly because Samantha wanted to get out of town, but mostly, he knows, because she didn’t want to be seen with him. Not that Larry necessarily wanted to be seen with her, either. She’s thin, but her nose is too small and flat. Her unprocessed hair just hangs from her head. She doesn’t wear enough makeup and her breasts are too small. Even so, drinks at Toby’s had pushed their conversation from Grid software architecture (during which he carefully lied) to how big was too big when it came to penis size. And forty-five minutes was a long time to wait as they drove back to Olney from Wichita, especially when her passenger hand found its way to his driver leg. To his zipper, playfully squeezing. Then a mad dash into his house, where the first time was a two-minute sprint. A second event was slower and more rewarding. Then a nap, a little conversation, and a promise to play again another time.

He gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of boxers. Stumbles into the kitchen for some peanuts and Coke. Maybe just a splash of Crown with it. On the counter he sees the magazine, the one he grabbed from the supermarket checkout aisle yesterday, unable to resist the million-watt smile of Britney Spears. She’s wearing a revealing sundress and appears to once again be in shape.

Larry loves Britney Spears.

The magazine is
Us Weekly,
and it’s his favorite, because printed inside, in addition to the stories about awards shows and benefit dinners and celebrity romances, are pictures with movie and television stars all going about their everyday business.
Stars—They’re Just Like
Us!
They Get Pulled Over for Speeding . . . They Buy Groceries . . . They Get Their Prescriptions Filled.
Here is Tom Cruise leaving an unnamed pharmacy with a white paper bag. Here is Shania Twain purchasing vegetables at a Coop in Switzerland. And here is Meg Ryan smiling at a short Beverly Hills police officer. Larry loves this shit. Eats it up even if the manipulation is obvious, even if he hates himself while devouring page after page of celebrities that are
just like him
! And the best part of
Us Weekly
is that most captions are only one or two phrases, that most features are barely one paragraph long. Because that way he is saved the expense of his concentration. His eyes can bounce around the page admiring the likes of Carmen Electra and Lindsay Lohan and Selma Hayek (six times in fourteen pages) without bothering to dwell on the knowledge that Larry himself is not featured in this magazine, that he will never appear in this magazine, because he is forever doomed to anonymity.