Keep calm and stay close to home

Again with the fizzing sound.  Her white satin still looked good.  A little travel-worn, but on her that looked even better.  Her voice still sounded like molten silver — “Hello.”White satin and drunkard walk

“Hello, Anne.  Where you been?”

“You wouldn’t believe.  I don’t believe.  I’ve got to get some control over this.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I never know where I’ll be next.  Or when.  Or even how it’ll look when I get there.  We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have, and you told me your memory works in circles.  We figured out that when you ‘push,’ you relocate to a reality with a different probability.”

“But it could also be a different time.  Future, past, it’s so confusing.  Sometimes I meet myself and I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.  We never know what to say to each other.  It’s horrible way to be.”

“It sounds awful.  Here, have a tissue.  So, how can I help you?”

“You do theory stuff.  Can you physics a way to let me steer through all this?”

<fizzing sound> Another Anne appeared, next to my file cabinet on the far side of the office.  “Don’t mind me, just passing through.”  <more fizzing>  She flickered away.  My ears itched a little.

“See?  And she always knows more than I do, except when I know more than she does.”

“I’m beginning to get the picture.  Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Anything, if it’ll help solve this.”

“When you time-hop, do you use the same kind of ‘push’ feeling that sends you to different probabilities?”

“No-o, it’s a little different, but not much.”

“We found that you have to ‘push’ harder to get to a less-probable reality.  Is there the same kind of difference between past and future hopping?”

“Now you mention it, yes!  It’s always easier to jump to the future.  I have to struggle sometimes when I get too far ahead of myself.”

“Can you do time and probability together?”

“Hard to say.  When I hop I mostly just try to work out when I am, much less whether things are odd.”

“Give it a shot.  Try a couple of ‘nearby places’ and come back here/now.  Just use tiny ‘pushes.’ I don’t want you to get lost again.”

“Me neither.  OK, here I go.” <prolonged flickering and fizzing> “Is this the right place?  I tried a couple of hops here in your office, and <charming blush> stole some of your papers.  Here.”

“Perfect, Anne, objective evidence is always best.  Let’s see…  Yep, this report is one I finished a week ago, looks OK, and this one … I recognize the name of a client I’ve not yet hooked, but the spelling!  The letter ‘c’ isn’t there at all — ‘rekognize,’ ‘sirkle,’ ‘siense’ — that’s low probability for sure.”

“Actually, it felt like higher probability.”

“Whatever.  One more question.  I gather that most of your hops are more-or-less good ones but every once in a while you drop into a complete surprise, something you’re totally not used to.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll bet the surprises happen when you’re in a jam and do a get me out of here jump.”

“Huh!  I’d not made that connection, but you’re right.”

“I think I’ve got the picture.  When you ‘push,’ you somehow displace yourself on a surface that has two dimensions — time and probability.  You move around in those two dimensions independently from how you move in 3-D space.  I take it you’re comfortable dong that but you want more control over it, right?”

“Mmm, yeah.  It’s kind of my special superpower, you know?  I don’t want to give it up entirely.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t know how to make that happen for you.  Best I can do is give you some strategy coaching, OK?”

“That’d be a big help.”Drunkard

“Stay calm.”

“That’s it?  Where’s the physics in that?”

“Ever hear of the Drunkard’s Walk?”

“I’ve seen a few.”

“Well, you’re doing one.”

“Beg pardon?”

“It’s math talk for a stepwise process where every step goes in a random direction.  Your problem is that some of the steps are way too big.  Keep the steps small and you’ll stay in familiar territory.”

<molten silver, coming closer> “Like … here?”

“Stay calm.”

~~ Rich Olcott

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Through The Looking Glass, Darkly

The Acme Building is quiet on summer evenings.  I was in my office, using the silence to catch up on paperwork.  Suddenly I heard a fizzing sound.  Naturally I looked around.  She was leaning against the door frame.

White satin looked good on her, and she looked good in it.  A voice like molten silver — “Hello, Mr Moire.”White satin and chessboard 1

“Hello yourself.  What can I do for you?”

“I’m open to suggestions, but first you can help me find myself.”

“Excuse me, but you’re right here.  And besides, who are you?”

“Not where I am but when I am.  Anne.”

“You said it right the first time.”

“No, no, my name is Anne.  At the moment.  I think.  Oh, it’s so confusing when your memory works in circles but not very well.  Do you have the time?”

“Well, I was busy, but you’re here and much more interesting.”

“No, I mean, what time is it?”

I showed her my desk clock — date, time, even the phase of the moon.

“Half past gibbous already?  Oh, bread-and-butter…”

“Wait — circles?  Time’s one-dimensional.  Clock readings increase or decrease, they don’t go sideways.”

“You don’t know Time as well as I do, Mr Moire.  It’s a lot more complicated than that.  Time can be triangular, haven’t you noticed?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“That paperwork you’re working on, are you near a deadline?”

“Nah.”

“And given that expanse of time, you feel free to permit distractions.  There are so many distractions.”

“You’re very distracting.”

“Thank you, I guess.  But suppose you had an important deadline coming up tomorrow.   That broad flow of possibilities at the beginning of the project has narrowed to just two — finish or don’t finish.  Your Time has closed in until you.”

“So you’re saying we can think of Time as two-dimensional.  The second dimension being…?”

“I don’t know.  I just go there.  That’s the problem.”

“Hmm… When you do, do you feel like you’re turning left or right?”

“No turning or moving forward or backward.  Generally I have to … umm… ‘push’ like I’m going uphill, but that only works if there’s a ‘being pushed’ when I get past that.  Otherwise I’m back where I started, whatever that means.”

“What do you see?  What changes during the episode?”

“Little things. <brief fizzing sound.  She … flickered.>  Like ‘over there’ you’re wearing a bright green T-shirt instead of what you’re wearing here.  And you’re using pen-and-paper instead of that laptop.  Green doesn’t suit you.”

“I know, which is why there’s nothing green in my wardrobe, here.  But that gives me an idea.  Did you always have to ‘push’ to get ‘over there’?”

“Usually.”

“Fine.  OK, I’m going to flip this coin.  While it’s in the air, ‘push’ just lightly and come back to tell me which way the coin fell.”

<fizzing> “Heads.”

“It’s tails here.  OK, we’re going to do that again but this time ‘push’ much harder.”

<louder fizzing> “That was weird.  Your coin rolled off the desk and landed on edge in a crack in the floor so it’s not heads or tails.”

“AaaHAH!”Coins 1

“?”

“Your ‘over theres’ have different levels of probability than ‘over here.’  They’re different realities.  Actually, I’ll bet you travel across ranges of probability.  Or tunnel through them, maybe.  That’d why you have to ‘push’ to get past something that’s less probable in order to get to something that’s more probable.  Like getting past a reality where the coin can just hang in the air or fly apart.”

“I’ve done that.  Once I sneezed while ‘pushing’ and wound up sitting at a tea party where the cream and sugar just refused to stir into the tea.  When I ‘pushed’ from there I practically fell into a coffee shop where the coffee was well-behaved.”

“Case closed.  Now I can answer your question.  Spacewise, you’re in my office on the twelfth floor.  Timewise, I just showed you my clock.  As for which reality, you’re in one with a very high probability because, well, you’re here.”

“So provincial.  Oh, Mr Moire, how little you know.” <fizzing>

On the 12th floor of the Acme Building, high above the city, one man still tries to answer the Universe’s persistent questions — Sy Moire, Physics Eye.

~~ Rich Olcott