WHITE MARS (22 page)

'The CERN project was greatly cheaper than the cancelled SSC would have been. It employed a tunnel already in use for an earlier experiment. The new project was the Large Hadron Collider, the LHC.'

I imagined a great tube, with a vanishing perspective into circular darkness.

'In the late twentieth century, the earlier experiment on the CERN site had yielded a great deal of information about leptons. But the energy used to produce leptons was not nearly enough to produce a Higgs. A lepton, by the way, is a member of the lightest family of subatomic particles, such as an electron or a muon. However, the clever group who constructed the LEP, as the tunnel was called, foresaw that it would be possible comparatively cheaply to modify their experiment, so that protons replaced the positrons and electrons of the original experiment.

'Protons, neutrons, and their anti-particles, belong to the family of more massive particles known as
hadrons.
Hence the terminology, the Large Hadron Collider.'

Kathi stopped. Then she spoke rather abstractedly. 'Imagine the drama of it! The world seemed to be on the brink of a great discovery. Would they be able to trace the Higgs through the LHC? The equipment was finally up and running in about 2005. A year later, it began to reach the kind of energy levels at which it seemed possible that they might actually detect the Higgs particle. This was at the lower end of the scale of theoretical possibilities for the Higgs mass. So the fact that they found no clear candidate they could identify with the Higgs did not unduly worry the physicists.'

We stood in that unnatural place, staring at our boots.

'Do you think the day will come when we can understand everything?' I asked.

Kathi grunted. Without giving an answer, she continued with her account.

'There had never been any guarantee that the LHC could build to the energies required to find the elusive particle -unlike the potential of the scrapped SSC.'

'So more money was wasted...'

'Can you not understand that science - like civilisation, of which science is the backbone - is pieced slowly together from ambitions, mistakes, perceptions - from our faltering intelligences? Patient enquiry, that's it. One day, one day far ahead in time, we may understand everything. Even the workings of our own minds!'

I remembered something I had been taught as a child. 'But Karl Popper said that the mind could not understand itself.'

'With mirrors we may easily do what was once impossible, and see the back of our own heads. One step forward may be formed from a number of tiny increments. For example, the hunt for this elusive smudge has been facilitated by the seemingly trivial innovation of self-illuminating paper - ampaper - and 3D-paper. Their impact on scientific development has been incalculable.'

'So they did find the Higgs particle at some point?' I asked.

'By 2009, the entire energy range of conceivable relevance to the Higgs particle had been surveyed. No unambiguously identifiable Higgs was found. But what the physicists did find was at least as interesting.'

We had continued our walk. As we reached the crest of a small incline, Kathi said, 'More of this later. We are nearly there!'

Over the crest, the desolation was broken by tokens of human activity. A group of suited men stood by three parked buggies. Their attention was directed towards a vast silvery tube, above which was suspended something which immediately reminded me of an immense saucepan lid. This lid evidently afforded protection against any slight aerial bombardment - any falling meteorite - for the tube below.

The men hailed us, and as we drew nearer to them I could see that this protective lid was of meshed reinforced plastic. Below it lay a large inflated bag from which cables trailed. In the background were sheds from which the sound of a generator came.

The importance of this installation was emphasised by a metal version of the UN flag, which was now raised on an extemporised flagpole.

Dreiser Hawkwood beckoned us on. His face behind its helmet appeared darker than ever. He briefly embraced Kathi, both of them clumsy in their suits, before shaking my hand in a perfunctory way. I was Kathi's guest, not his. Among the men in the background, I saw Jon Thorgeson, whose lecture I had postponed while I was pregnant.

Climbing on to a metal box, Dreiser raised himself above us to make a short speech.

'This is such a momentous day, I thought we might hold a small ceremony. It's to mark the occasion when, at last, the bag is completely filled. It has been a slow process. As you will know, we have had to avoid the possibility of setting up currents in the superfluid. But from this moment onwards, we are able to begin in earnest our search for the Omega Smudge.'

Pausing, he reached up to stroke his moustache but had to make do with stroking his visor instead.

'Jon and I were having an argument, although out here is not the best place for it. We were arguing about something hard to define - "consciousness". Jon's hard-line view is that consciousness emanates from the interaction of brute computation, quantum coherence, quantum entanglement, if you like, and quantum state reduction - those factors which produce a CPS, a sure indicator of
mind.
Many people - and our quantputers - would agree with him. He claims that science is "nearly there" - and will arrive there before long, in these areographic wastes. Is that a fair description of your position, Jon?'

Thorgeson said, 'Approximately.'

'Kathi and I take a more radical view. We see that, indeed, there are still some minor issues to be sorted out from the details of the particle physics, primarily the Smudge parameters. They will determine all the present unknowns. However, we radicals - I prefer the term visionaries - argue that something
profound
is still missing.'

'Yes,' said Kathi. 'And we believe that magneto-gravitic fields will turn out to be part of the missing story of that profundity.'

Dreiser continued briefly in this vein, before embarking on a different topic.

'You'll all have made use of the Ng-Robinson Plot? Let's just have a thought for that vital minor innovation! It was named after its inventors, Ng being a Singaporean and Robinson British. This was East meeting West - very fruitfully. The Plot has given us a wonderful method of displaying vast quantities of quantputer-generated information. At the time when it was first employed, supercomputers were already giving place to our QPs, or quantputers, to use their full name - much faster and more versatile machines. The computer read off the mass of a particle along one axis, its lifetime along another, and the g-factor along a third, all colour-coded according to the various quantum numbers possessed by the particle in question - charge, spin, parity, etc.

'And one of the crucial features Ng-Robinson introduced is a key intensity factor which indicates the probability of the detection being a reliable one. A very sharp bright image indicates firm identification of a particle, while a fuzzy one implies there may be some considerable uncertainty as to the suggested identification of an actual particle.

'The essentials of so many lines of research, which in earlier times would have presented great difficulties, become immediately transparent. The Ng-Robinson Plot has proved extremely valuable in experimental particle physics, because a lot of that activity consists of sniffing out tiny subtle effects from enormous amounts of almost entirely irrelevant information!

'What they expected for the Higgs would have been one sharp, bright, and very
white
spot. That's according to the conventions used in this system of colour-coding. It should have stood out clearly from a background of variously coloured spots in other places in the generally dark background of the N-R Plot. These other spots would indicate the complex array of particles of different kinds generated by the experiment. Show the vidslide, Euclid.'

At this point, an android stepped forward to project a replica of the plot. It sparkled before the small audience with its dark pointillism. It could have been mistaken for a glimpse of another universe.

Dreiser asked, 'What did they see in place of a spot? They saw a
smudge.
Just a smudge. It arose around about the right place, pretty precisely where the particle physicists had come to expect that something would be found - which would be consistent with all the other junk observed earlier. But there was no clear-cut Higgs particle - merely a great big Higgs smudge!

'And the ultimate descendant of that smudge is what we hope to capture - one day, starting from now!'

We all clapped. Even Euclid clapped.

Somehow I felt depressed.

Even when I had my babe back in my arms, a feeling of my insignificance in the scheme of things persisted. To arrange for Jon Thorgeson to come at last and give his lecture on the Omega Smudge was a welcome diversion.

Paula Gallin helped me in the early stages. She found a small lecture hall we could use. Lectures made in person had proved more vital than lectures delivered over the Ambient - though I had no suspicion regarding the way this one was going to turn out. While I had forgotten about Jon in my preoccupation with dear Alpha, he had not forgotten his promise.

'Ah, my little honeypot!' was his greeting. I made no retort because it was pleasant to see his young-old face light up at sight of me. He was followed into the anteroom by a porter trundling a large man-size crate. Once it was set down, and was stood upright, Jon thumped it.

'There's someone in here who can see what we are doing. Give me a kiss before I let him out.'

I put up my hands defensively. 'No, I don't do that sort of thing.'

'I wish you did,' he said, with a sigh. I was angry. The truth was, he was attractive after a fashion; it was just that his manner was so pushy. In a burst of confidence, he told me that he had left a Chinese lover back on Earth. I was a physical reminder to him of this lady. He longed to get back to her. He was miserable on Mars; it was for him a prison. 'Sorry to offend you,' he said, with a hangdog look.

He turned and unlatched the box the porter had brought. 'This is my visual aid,' he said, over his shoulder. The door of the box opened. A small android stepped out from its padded interior.

'Where am I?' it asked in a lifelike way.

'On Mars, you idiot.' Turning to me, Jon said, with mock-formality, 'Cang Hai, I'd like you to meet my friend, Euclid.'

'I have met him before,' I said, although no recognition was forthcoming from the android.

I offered Euclid my hand. It did not move. Nor did its well-moulded face manage more than a twitch of smile.

'It's one of Poulsen's cast-offs,' said Jon. 'I borrowed it for the occasion. It's house-trained.'

I remembered it then as one of the machines Poulsen had complained about. The android was dressed in blue overalls, much as Thorgeson was dressed. Its hair was cut to a fashionable length, unlike Jon's which was trimmed short. Its face wore a blankly pleasant expression which changed little. Jon clapped it on the shoulder.

There was something in its extreme immobility I found disconcerting. It had no presence. It gave out no CPS. It lacked body language.

Jon turned to me with a grin. 'Kathi tells me you are a mother now! Was it a virgin birth?'

'Change the conversation. It's none of your business. You didn't come here to be insulting, I hope.'

He shrugged, dismissing the topic. 'All right, you invited me over just to talk science. And when I get in that hall, I am going to talk about the continuing search for the ultimate smudge. All miseries forgotten.'

'Let's go. The audience is waiting. How long will you talk for?'

'My lecture is designed for ten-year-olds,' said Thorgeson. 'Euclid helps to hold their interest through the technical bits.' He caught my wrist. 'Do you think the audience knows anything of the past history of particle physics?' As he spoke, he slid an arm about my waist.

'I think you can count on it,' I said, disengaging myself.

'Oh, good. Then I had better not go into all that too much. How long have I got to talk?'

'Until you lose their interest. Now come on and don't be nervous.'

He was anything but nervous with me. 'Be nice to me,' he begged. 'I only came over to see you again.'

I told him not to be silly. But I was not completely annoyed.

We went into the hall, followed by the android. The audience gave us a round of applause. I introduced Thorgeson by saying that he would explain why there were so many scientists on Mars, and that he would speak of the problems they were hoping to solve. He would touch on matters affecting us all. His artificial friend, I said, would assist him.

Tom sat in the front row and nodded approval of my short speech - the first I had made before such a large gathering.

Thorgeson began nervously, clearing his throat and gesticulating too much.

'As our understanding of the basic units of the universe deepens, it becomes yet clearer that these units are entities that possess no mass. There is a profound mystery here. Ordinary matter obviously possesses mass, and so do the basic particles of which matter is composed - protons, neutrons, and electrons, and also their constituent quarks and kliks. For many decades, physicists have struggled with the question: where does mass come from?