In fact, it would be a remarkable coincidence if our universe was the largest of all. We may be a local lump inside somebody else's universe.
Remember the old cartoon of a little fish being swallowed by a slightly larger one, in turn about to be swallowed by another bigger one, and so on, ad infinitum? Well, we may be one of those fishes.
The last few weeks I've been working on the problem of getting information about–or out of–these universes inside our own. Clearly, light can't get out of one universe into the next. Neither can matter. That's what a closed geometry means. The only possibility might be some type of particle that doesn't fit into the constraints set by Einstein theory. There are several candidates like this, but Thorne (the grand old man around here) doesn't want to get into that morass. Too messy, he says.
I think tachyons are the answer. They can escape from smaller
"universes" inside our own. So the recent discovery of tachyons has enormous implications for cosmology. It hard to detect tachyons, so we don't know much about them. They give us a direct link to the sealed-off space-times inside our universe, though, which is why I'm working so hard on the problem. There's a chance of a first-class discovery in this. We've had the devil of a time pursuing things, with the food strike and the big fire in LA. Probably nobody will give much of a damn, with the world in its present state. But that what the academic life is for. l'm sorry I've gone on about this at such length and probably made no sense, but the whole thing is tremendously exciting to me and I tend to get carried away. Anyway, l'm sorry about Baja. Hope to see you both soon. Love, Cathy Peterson felt a momentary twinge of guilt at reading a private letter.
The Council used such methods routinely now, of course, to get quickly round the recalcitrant interests who had not accepted the necessity for quick action. Still, he was a gentleman and a gentleman does not read another's mail. His reluctance soon submerged beneath his interest in the implications of what was said by "Cathy." Subuniverses? Incredible. The landscape of the scientist was ultimately unreal.
Peterson leaned back in his seat and studied Canadian wastes slipping by below. Yes, perhaps that was it. For decades now the picture of the world painted by the scientists had become strange, distant, unbelievable.
Far easier, then, to ignore it than try to understand. Things were too complicated. Why bother? Turn on the telly, luv.
Right.
DECEMBER 3, 1962
Cooper laid the red-gridded sheets out in a long line across the lab countertop. He stood back, balancing on his toes like a sprinter preparing to go the distance, and surveyed his work. The subdued hum of the laboratory underlined the expectation in the air. "That's it," Cooper said slowly. "They're in the right order."
"That's our best data?" Gordon murmured.
"Best I'll ever get," Cooper said, frowning at something in Gordon's voice. He turned, hands on hips. "It's all consecutive, too. Three hours worth."
"It looks good and clean," Gordon said in a conciliatory tone. "Sharp."
"Yeah," Cooper admitted. "Nothing funny about this. If there was a clear resonance there, I'd see it."
Gordon traced his finger along the green data lines. There were no standard resonances at all. Inside their sample, cooled down to 3 degrees absolute in the bubbling helium, were atomic nuclei. Each was a tiny magnet. They tended to line up along the magnetic field Cooper had applied to the sample. The standard experiment was simple: apply a brief electromagnetic pulse, which tipped the nuclear magnets away from the magnetic field. In time, the nuclei would line up with the field again. This nuclear relaxation process could tell the experimenter much about the environment inside the solid. It was a relatively simple way to learn about microscopic features of the complex solid structure. Gordon liked the work for its clarity and directness, aside from any applications to transistors or infrared detectors it might eventually have. This branch of solid state physics didn't have the high visibility of things like quasars or high-energy particle research but it was clean and had a kind of simple beauty.
The jagged traces before him, though, were neither simple nor beautiful. Here and there were fragments of what they should be getting: nuclear resonance curves, smooth and meaningful. But in most of the gridded traces there were sudden jagged line bursts of electromagnetic noise, appearing abruptly for an instant, then disappearing just as suddenly.
"The same spacings," Gordon murmured. "Yeah," Cooper said. "The one-centimeter ones–" he pointed, "–and the shorter ones, half a centimeter. Regular as hell."
Both men looked at each other, then back at the data. Each had hoped for a different result. They had done these experiments over again and again, eliminating all possible sources of noise. The ragged bursts would not vanish.
"It's a goddam message," Cooper said. "Must be."
Gordon nodded, fatigue seeping through him. "There's no avoiding it,"
he said. "We've got hours of signal here. Can't be coincidence, not this much."
"No."
"Okay then," Gordon said, summoning up optimism in his voice. "Let's decode the fucking thing."
REDUCTION OF OXYGEN CONTENT TO BELOW TWO PARTS PER
MILLION WITHIN FIFTY KILOMETER RADIUS OF SOURCE AFTER
DIATOM BLOOM MANIFESTS AEMRUDYCO PEZQEASKL MINOR
POLLUTANTS PRESENT IN DEITRICH POLYXTROPE 174A ONE
SEVEN FOUR A COMBINES IN LATTITINE CHAIN WITH HERBICIDES
SPRINGFIELD AD45 AD FOUR FIVE OR DU PONT ANALAGAN 58 FIVE
EIGHT EMITTING FROM REPEATED AGRICULTURAL USE AMAZON
BASIN OTHER SITES OTHER LONG CHAIN MOLECULAR SYNERGISTS
POSSIBLE IN TROPICAL ENVIRONS OXYGEN COLUMN SUBJECT TO
CONVECTIVE SPREADING RATE ALZSNRUD ASMA WSUEXIO 829
CMXDROQ VIRUS XM-PRINTING STAGE RESULTS 3 THREE WEEK
DELAY IF DENSITY OF SPRINGHELD AD45 AD FOUR FIVE EXCEEDS
158 ONE FIVE EIGHT PARTS PER MILLION THEN ENTERS
MOLECULAR SIMULATION REGIME BEGINS IMITATING HOST CAN
THEN CONVERT PLANKTON NEURO JACKET INTO ITS OWN
CHEMICAL FORM USING AMBIENT OXYGEN CONTENT UNTIL
OXYGEN LEVEL FALLS TO VALUES FATAL TO MOST OF THE HIGHER
FOOD CHAIN WTESJDKU AGAIN AMMA YS ACTION OF
ULTRAVIOLET SUNLIGHT ON CHAINS APPEARS TO RETARD
DIFFUSION IN SURFACE LAYERS OF THE OCEAN BUT GROWTH
CONTINUES LOWER DOWN DESPITE CONVECTIVE CELLS FORMING
WHICH TEND TO MIX LAYERS IN XMC AHSU URGENT MADUDLO
374 ONLY SEGMENT AMZLSOUDP ALYN YOU MUST STOP ABOVE
NAMED SUBSTANCES FROM ENTERING OCEAN LIFE CHAIN
AMZSUY RDUCDK BY PROHIBITIONS OF FOLLOWING SUBSTANCES
CALLANAN B471 FOUR SEVEN ONE MESTOFITE SALEN MARINE
COMPOUND ALPHA THROUGH DELTA YDEMCLW URGENT YXU
CONDUCT TITRATION ANALYSIS ON METASTABLE INGREDIENTS
PWMXSJR ALSUDNCH
Gordon had no chance to think about the message until the afternoon.
His morning was filled out by a lecture and then a committee meeting on graduate student admissions. There were top-flight students applying from all over–Chicago, Caltech, Berkeley, Columbia, MIT, Cornell, Princeton, Stanford. The canonical seats of wisdom. A few unusual cases–two odd ones from Oklahoma who might be promising, a gifted and quiet fellow from Long Beach State–were put aside for study. It was plain that La Jolla's fame was spreading rapidly. In part it was the continuing heady rush of the Sputnik phenomenon. Gordon was riding that wave himself, and he knew it; these were ripe times for science. He wondered, though, about the students just now coming into physics. Some of them seemed like the same sort that went into law or medicine not because it was a fascinating subject, but because it promised big bucks. Gordon wondered privately whether Cooper had elements of that; the man showed sparks of the old flame, but it lay hidden beneath a blanket of mellow relaxation, an aura of physical assurance. Even the message, the very existence of a message, struck Cooper as a little funny but basically acceptable, an odd effect, soon to be explained. Gordon could not tell whether this was a pose or genuine serenity; either way, it was unsettling.
Gordon was used to a more intense style. He envied the physicists who had made the great discoveries when quantum mechanics was unfolding, when the nucleus first shattered. The older members of the department, Eckart and Lieberman, talked of those days sometimes. Before the 1940s, a degree in physics was a solid basis for a career in electrical engineering, period. The bomb had changed all that. In the avalanche of gaudy weapons, new fields of study, increased budgets, and expanding horizons, everyone discovered suddenly a national thirst for physicists. In the years following Hiroshima a newspaper story referring to a physicist invariably called him "the brilliant nuclear physicist," as though there could be no other kind. Physics got fatter. Even so, physicists were still relatively poorly paid; Gordon could remember a visiting professor at Columbia borrowing money to attend the Friday "Chinese lunch" Lee and Yang had started up. The lunches met in one of the excellent Chinese restaurants ringing the campus, and it was there that new results often surfaced first.
Attendance was a good idea if you wanted to keep up. So the visiting scholar had scrounged enough to go, and paid it back within a week. Such days seemed distant to Gordon now, though they must loom large in the minds of the older physicists, he realized. Some, like Lakin, carried an air of uneasy waiting, as though the bubble would soon burst. The dazed public, with its short attention span, would be distracted by the cornucopia of tail fins and ranch-style tract homes, and forget about science. The easy equation–science equals engineering equals consumer yummies–would fade. Physics had spent more time at the bottom of the S
curve than chemistry–World War I was the flush time for them–and now was enjoying the steep climb. But a plateau had to follow. The S curve had to curl over.
Gordon mulled this over as he made his way from the laboratory up the outside stairs to Lakin's office. The lab notebooks were carefully organized and he had checked over the decoding of the message repeatedly. Still, he was of half a mind to turn around and avoid seeing Lakin at all.
He was only a few sentences. into his presentation when Lakin said,
"Really, Gordon, I had trusted you would fix this trouble by now."
"Isaac, these are the facts."
"No." The trimly built man got up from behind his desk and began to pace. "I have looked into your experiment in detail. I read your notes–Cooper showed me where they were."
Gordon frowned. "Why not ask me for them?"
"You were in class. And–I speak frankly–I wanted to see Cooper's own entries, in his own hand."
"Why?"
"You admit you did not take all the data by yourself."
"No, of course not. He's got to do something for a thesis."
"And he is behind schedule, yes. Significantly behind." Lakin stopped and made one of his characteristic movements, dipping his head slightly and raising his eyebrows as he looked at Gordon, as though gazing over the rims of nonexistent eyeglasses. Gordon supposed this was a glance meant to convey something unprovable but obvious, an unspoken understanding between colleagues.
"I don't think he's faking it, if that's what you mean," he said very steadily, keeping inflection out of his voice with some effort.
"How could you tell?"
"The data I took fits in with the syntax of the rest of the message."
"That could be a deliberate effect, somehow cooked up by Cooper."
Lakin turned toward the window, hands clasped behind his back, his voice now carrying a shade of hesitation.
"Come on, Isaac."
Lakin suddenly rounded on him. "Very well. You tell me, then, what is going on," he said crisply.
"We have an effect, but no explanation. That's what's going on. Nothing more."
He waved the page of decoded message in the air, slicing blades of sunlight descending from the windows. "Then we are agreed." Lakin smiled. "A very strange effect. Something makes the nuclear spins relax, bing, like that. Spontaneous resonance."
"That's crap." Gordon had thought they were really homing in on the point, and now this old song and dance came up.
"It is a simple statement of what we know."
"How do you explain this?" He waved the message again.
"I do not." Lakin shrugged elaborately. "I would not even mention it, if I were you."
"Until we understand it–"
"No. We do understand enough. Enough to talk in public about spontaneous resonance."
Lakin began a technical summary, ticking off the points on his fingers with a precise gesture. Gordon could see he had grilled Cooper thoroughly.
Lakin knew how to present the data, which quantities to plot, how the figures in a paper could build a very convincing case. "Spontaneous resonance" would make an interesting paper. No, an exciting one.
When Lakin was finished, and had sketched out the scientific arguments, Gordon said casually, "Half a true story can still be a lie, you know."
Lakin grimaced. "I've humored you quite a bit, Gordon. For months. It is time to admit the truth."
"Uh huh. What is it?"
"That your techniques are still faulty."
"How?"
"I do not know." He shrugged, dipping his head and raising his eyebrows again. "I cannot be in the laboratory constantly."
"We have been able to array the resonance signals–"
"So they seem to say something." Lakin smiled tolerantly. "They could say anything, Gordon, if you fool with them enough. Look—" He spread his hands. "You remember, from astronomy, the fellow Lowell?"
"Yes," Gordon said suspiciously.
"He 'discovered' the canals on Mars. Saw them for years, decades. Other people reported seeing them. Lowell had his own observatory built in the desert, he was a rich man. He had excellent seeing conditions there. The man had time and fine eyesight. So he discovered evidence of intelligence."
"Yeah, but–" Gordon began.
"The only mistake was that he had the wrong conclusion. The intelligent life was on his side of the telescope, not the Mars end. His mind–" Lakin jabbed a forefinger at his own temple, "-saw a flickering image and then imposed order on it. His own intelligence was tricking him."