A Collision In Time

I know that two and two make four—and should be glad to prove it too if I could—though I must say if by any sort of process I could convert two and two into five it would give me much greater pleasure.

– Lord George Gordon Byron

September 11, 2027, Boston, USA

Cara and Dov left the physics building and headed onto the parched lawn in front of the MIT Great Dome. The brown grass did not register as unusual for Dov, though it highlighted the climate change struggles to come. In the presence of Cara, and surrounded by the magnificence of MIT, she found herself distracted and enchanted. Here, in one of the greatest institutions of history, she walked beside her hero, who centuries before Dov’s birth had reimagined the definitions of time and space.

“So—Dov, right?” Cara questioned. “Sorry, I’m terrible with names. Is that spelled with an ‘e’ at the end?”

“No, without. Like D-O-V. I guess its origin is ancient Hebrew for David. I am not sure why my parents chose it. How about your name, Cara?”

“I’m pretty sure my mom just liked the sound. I think she told me once upon a time, but likely it came out of a name-your-baby book or something.” Cara pointed in the direction of the Charles River. “Would you like to walk by the river while we talk? I’ve got to admit, you have piqued my curiosity.”

“Wonderful—”

Cara interrupted. “And on the way, if we see a place that sells cinnamon buns, let’s stop.”

Dov had no idea what a cinnamon bun was. “Absolutely.”

“You look distracted, Dov,” said Cara. “What’s up?”

Dov strolled beside Cara in awe, not only of Cara’s confidence, but the grand design of the city. With a skyline that reached to the clouds, a maze of roadways, and ornate bridges that crisscrossed the river, the dominance of the architecture was undeniable and yet foreign to her ethics and nature as a citizen of Pachamama. She was both astonished and disturbed by what she saw, noting how the grandeur of the city contrasted with an underlying artificiality. The people of Boston appeared to pay little attention to their surroundings. Dov found herself taken aback by how disconnected from nature this period seemed. “Yes, I am distracted, Cara.”

Along with the architecture, Dov couldn’t help but study the physical variety of people—their distinct colors, shapes, and widely differing styles of clothing. In Pachamama, physical appearance and clothing shifted as fashion and taste evolved, but in uniformity. The ability of the citizens of Pachamama to gene-alter their skin, eyes, and hair along with their clothing resulted in coherence based on style and social patterns.

“I see; are you a tourist? Your head is spinning. Have you not been to MIT before?”

“No, I haven’t. It’s amazing. Some of the most important technology and mathematics will emerge from here. I’m awestruck. And the diversity of people is fantastic.”

“Yeah, I guess I take that for granted.” There was a moment of silence. Cara furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, ‘will emerge’?”

They passed a food truck with music blaring, making discussion impossible. The volume offered Dov an opportunity to decide how to correct the mistake in tense she had made.

“You’re doing such amazing work right now, it’s bound to shape the future. I predict whatever direction you choose to go in will be the most important research in physics since the early twentieth century.”

Cara chuckled. “You’re very kind, Dov with no ‘e,’ but my professor would beg to differ. I’m starting to think I’m on the wrong track. My work is not appreciated, perhaps with good reason.”

Dov smirked. “We’ll see. Just wait.”

The roar of a garbage truck interrupted the conversation as well as the ambience. Compared to the odors in Sarajevo, Boston instead smelled of fossil fuel, sewage, and plastics. And though not as prominent as in 1914, the lingering presence of waste.

Dov focused on the woman beside her. Despite the many videos and photos Dov had seen, Cara seemed noticeably different in real life. Light brown skin, cascading dark hair that flowed down her back, and penetrating, intelligent dark eyes. She was roughly the same height as Dov, which surprised her. She had imagined Cara to be taller than her.

They strolled in silence and crossed the street for Cara to buy a coffee. Dov searched for another excuse to talk. She recognized the flag poles and took note of how the flags flapped at an odd height on the pole. “Why are the flags flying halfway?” she asked.

“Today is September 11th, remember?”

Dov had no idea what the significance of September 11th was but decided it was far too early to explain why she didn’t know. “Oh yeah, the days are flying by. I can’t believe it’s already mid-September.”

“I know, right?” Conveniently Cara changed the subject. “Are your two male friends twins?”

“They’re brothers, sort of.”

“How can they be brothers, sort of?”

“Like half brothers, I suppose.” It had been remarkably easy to fabricate stories when she spoke to Misko in Sarajevo. She had an easy advantage over him, dazzling with mathematics and science while he was none the wiser. In addition, Dov did not care whether Misko liked her or not, or judged her for her lies. Misko was a means to an end. Here, Dov did not seek the same advantage over Cara. On the contrary, she sought honesty.

They stopped at a viewpoint at the dock the rowers launched from. Dov took a deep breath. “You are probably curious why I am here.”

“Yes, clearly.”

Dov turned to face Cara. “I am also a scientist, and I specialize in time physics. I know of your work.”

Cara mocked, “Are you a spy? Did you hack my phone or something? I haven’t even published.”

Dov blushed and fidgeted unconsciously. “Absolutely not, Cara, but as I explain it, what I will say will sound…unconventional.”

Cara nodded. “Okay, go on, I’m interested. This feels sort of like I’m in a spy movie.” She chuckled.

Dov chose her words and spoke deliberately. “Cara, I have some good news for you. Your mathematics works. You will prove time has physical dimensions. We traveled some distance to—”

“Wait. Time-waves? How do you know about those?” Cara stepped back from Dov, her eyes narrowed. “Were you infiltrating my work?”

Dov sighed. She pointed to a bench ahead. “Can we sit down?”

“Fine,” Cara said impatiently. “Sorry; I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I agree, me too. And I’m sorry. You deserve a full explanation. I have a way of getting ahead of myself, so my students say.” Dov laughed to try to lighten the mood.

They settled on the bench, warmed by the sun. The pause gave Dov a chance to restart the conversation. “What a beautiful river.”

“A beautiful river? You aren’t from Boston, are you? When I first arrived here, people still sailed and swam upstream, but it’s impossible now, after all the years of drought. It’s quite sad. I have such fond memories of eating my lunch beside the river and enjoying the sailing ships. Anyway, Dov, tell me your story.”

“I will, but before I begin, if need be, I can prove myself. Don’t hesitate to ask questions. I promise I can answer them, even if they seem beyond the current scope of science.” Dov waited for Cara to react.

“Please continue,” Cara said, her tone skeptical.

“Okay, from the beginning.” Dov collected her thoughts. “Think about the logical consequences of the math and physics you are working toward. Consider if you are right. Then what?” Dov paused for effect. “Well, logically, your discoveries will transform how people travel and communicate through time and space. Scientists will then experiment and send software backward in time, in the form of artificial intelligence observation software, or o-bots as they would subsequently be called.”

Dov intentionally shifted to the present tense. “We will figure out how to send subatomic particles back in time, and return them. We will use the principles of virtual time to send physical robots, and eventually people, back or forward in time—usually, historians bound by the natural order of time-wave dimensions—your discovery.”

Dov waited for a reaction, but Cara remained expressionless. “Continue,” said Cara. “I am amused. Interesting thoughts.”

Dov sighed and elected to open up. “Cara, now take a leap of faith, because—well, because I am from the future and so are my companions, who are not human. In the future, where I come from, we will use your math and your concept of time-waves to enable time travel.”

Again Dov waited for a response, but none came. Her heart raced like a spaceship accelerating its engine before taking off.

Cara made a show of looking back and forth as if she were searching for something. “Okay, where’s the camera?” Cara glanced at Dov’s face. Dov looked back, uncomfortable.

“I can show you the math, Cara.”

“You know, for some reason, I want to believe you. Your story sounds too crazy and I don’t think you take me for a fool. So I’ll give you a chance, since you said you understood the math. Let’s go to my office and you can prove yourself. If you can answer a mathematical question or two, then I might believe you.”

“Challenge accepted,” said Dov, smiling.

They headed back along the same route. “Your friends, what are their names again? And did I catch you saying something about them not being human?” Cara sounded aloof.

Dov sensed the skepticism but accommodated her. “Uriel and Ariel. Yes, they are AI robots, made from a core of super dense carbon fibers that casts a neutronic solid-state holograph.”

Cara smiled. “That’s a lot of information. So who is who?”

Dov sighed. “I do ramble.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Uriel is the one with less hair and grayish blue eyes, and Ariel has darker hair and brown eyes, though, to be honest, their hair and eyes change as they wish. I can show you their structures when you next meet them. It may help you believe me.”

“They change their appearance? I suppose if they are holographs…” Cara’s eye’s sparkled. “This is indeed an interesting day. How are they programmed?”

“They learn continually from their base programming, at least when connected to bionet.”

“Bionet, is that like Skynet?” Cara said, grinning.

“Like what?”

“From Terminator?”

“Sorry, I don’t know what that is.”

“Really? Wow, perhaps you aren’t from this time.” Cara giggled. “I can’t wait for you to show me your math.”

Dov could detect sarcasm in any century.

They arrived at Cara’s office, which was much smaller than Dov had imagined it might be, and windowless, with an old desk holding a laptop and three two-dimensional hard screens. On the wall opposite Cara’s desk hung a whiteboard, which Cara began to erase immediately.

“The answer to my question may have been on the whiteboard,” Cara said, laughing. The board now cleared, Cara began. “Dov, show me the first principles of quantum information and time flows. These are in the public record, though very few understand the impact. In summarized expressions, if you wish. Bonus points if you can demonstrate how they describe physical dimensions.” Cara sat down and handed Dov her whiteboard marker. She wore a smug expression.

For Dov, this was a middle school science question taught to every student, the basics for those who sought to work as space-time engineers or historians. It took Dov very little time to write up the equations and rules on the whiteboard. As Dov drew on the board, she watched Cara’s expression shift to a mixture of surprise and concern. Dov included some notes on the second and third principles she knew Cara would one day publish. Cara would quickly catch on.

Dov put down the marker and pointed at the equations drafted on the whiteboard. “The time dimensions will later be defined as time-waves. They will correctly replace the multiverse explanation of quantum time probability.”

Cara walked up to the board, her amused expression erased. “Holy shit, who are you?”

“Let me retell the story, Cara, but instead I will use the whiteboard. I speak better math than English.”

* * *

At four in the afternoon, Dov entered the hotel room, which had the Do Not Disturb sign affixed to the doorknob. They had hacked the reservation system to “book” the room.

Dov expected the area to be reconfigured to accommodate the equipment they had hastily disassembled before leaving Sarajevo, but nothing like what she saw. They had been busy and resourceful. In one corner sat dozens of large batteries they’d assembled and wired together, each one the size of a microwave oven. They’d integrated their holographic computers with additional twenty-first century technology, wireless routers, and cables and connected the hotel’s television.

“Where did you get this?” Dov shook her head. “And how are we going to hide it?”

Looking amused and pleased with himself, Uriel explained, “We took a rideshare to TechSale and spoofed their self-services security to purchase all this. The driver helped us carry it up here to the room. But don’t worry, we will clean the mess up once we’re finished.”

“Remember, Dov,” added Ariel, “with our interfaces to Pachamama offline, we’ve needed to boost both power and processing in this time horizon. We’re almost done. We’ll study the time-wave displacements and generate a status report.”

“What’s a rideshare?” Dov inquired, stretching out on the queen-sized bed. She quickly lost interest in the concept of a rideshare. “Still offline with Pachamama?” Dov bit her lip. “I thought we would’ve made contact by now.”

“I’m sorry, there’s no signal yet,” said Ariel, “which may be for many reasons. We’ve tried billions of different configurations to reach out and say hello, but we’ve received no handshake from Pachamama.”

“Perhaps the Pachamama we know no longer exists,” said Dov matter-of-factly.

“I’ve been comparing the history shift,” Uriel said. “It’s substantial, and those deviations explain a lot. Where do I begin?” Uriel continued to piece together the equipment.

“Just tell me,” Dov said.

“The consequences of the events that occurred since we left 1914 are significant. To start, the assassination of the archduke triggered a war, ominously called World War One, followed by another war, World War Two, only decades later. Like dominoes, geopolitical conflicts and additional wars continued for decades. In sum, there are massive historical deviations between our original 2027 and the one we are in now. In our timeline, for example, there were 400 million more people than in this one. We have entire cities that don’t exist in this timeline, like the European capital of Sodinerburg. In our timeline the world had moved on to embrace hydrogen energy to power its transportation systems by 2027. Here, populations are more resistant to battling human-made climate change. Every major president and prime minister is different here as well. Interestingly, on the other hand, space travel, computer technology, and many other technologies seem to be on a pathway similar to our timeline, though I have witnessed much greater use of technology in this timeline for military purposes. Women have a stronger role in this timeline than they had in ours, maybe due to the need for wartime workers. Therefore, Cara may not be as much of a maverick here as she was in our timeline. Shall I continue?”

“No. That’s a lot to absorb,” Dov replied.

“That sort of divergence may explain why we didn’t connect to the Pachamama interfaces,” Ariel said. “Pachamama may not exist in this timeline’s future. It may still be an uninhabited, undiscovered planet in this timeline’s twenty-seventh century.”

“We are in uncharted regions of time-waves which only philosophers had dared to speculate about,” Uriel said. “We should take good notes.”

“Time-wave mathematics made sense to me,” said Dov. “The philosophy never did.”

Ariel stood and wiped his hands. “I’m done. I ran the time-wave disturbance algorithm from the previous data and compared it to this timeline. I wanted to calculate whether the time-wave disturbances as laid out in the original report still hold in this new timeline.” He displayed the result:

Time: September 12, 2027, Earth Era

…

Location: MIT Campus, Boston, USA

Person of interest: Cara Zitkala-Sa

“Nothing changed; the disturbance remains. Our actions have changed nothing at this point.”

“So still tomorrow?” said Dov.

“It would seem so, and as early as the next day or two, so we must keep vigilant,” said Uriel.

“I’m confused,” said Dov. “The time disturbance from Sarajevo created a divergence as you described?”

“Yes,” said Uriel.

“So Pachamama may not exist. I don’t want to think about what that means for me, considering I was born there. Nevertheless, the second disturbance still risks happening, even given everything that has changed?”

Uriel smiled. “Dov, your math predicted this was possible. We are experiencing the nonlinear patterns and fluidity you described in your time-wave equations. The time-wave dimension that influenced Cara did not significantly intersect with those impacted by the Sarajevo anomaly. We know that nonlinear dimensions maintain patterns despite chaotic interruptions.”

“So to prevent further chaos, we still need to act and suppress tomorrow’s anomaly, despite having failed to prevent the first.”

“Yes,” said Ariel. “This remains our mission.”

“And Cara is still involved?”

“Without access to Pachamama’s computing power, it’s difficult to determine precisely, but we suspect no reason to assume anything has changed. So yes.”

“Then we have no time to waste.” Dov walked into the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and yelled, “Did you happen to purchase one of those phone things from rideshare?”

* * *

Cara’s phone rang. It was from an unknown number so she screened it. When she heard the voice on the other end, she connected and smiled. “Dov, thanks for calling. You were able to figure out twenty-first century tech—my congrats.”

Dov waved at the screen. “Do I detect sarcasm? You still don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know, Dov. Time travel is a hard sell. I don’t get many visitors from the future and haven’t developed any trust required for that. By the way, that’s amazing makeup, Dov—you changed your face.”

Dov had transformed her eyes from dark brown to brilliant emerald green, lengthened her hair, augmented by streaks of red and blonde, and darkened her skin tone to a tanned Mediterranean olive. Even Dov’s lips had thickened and were a shade redder.

“Thanks, Cara, but what you see is not makeup. We have nano enhancements that are programable to do minor adjustments to our skin, hair, and body parts.”

“Oookay… I may be becoming more convinced you are telling the truth. Either that or you have an amazing Hollywood production going on.”

“Let me show you something even better. How do I initiate the cameras on the other side of the phone?”

After an explanation from Cara, Dov pointed the camera toward Ariel and Uriel, studying the holographs. The room was a mess of computer parts, wires, and twenty-ninth century technology. “This is what I wanted to show you. This may help further convince you.”

“Oh my god,” said Cara. “This is right out of a sci-fi movie. What are they doing?”

“Looking for time-wave patterns and anomalies.”

“Anomalies. I don’t know what it means.”

“Can we go for dinner together? I promise I can do a better job of explaining in person.”

“Yes, let’s go tonight. Do you like pizza?”

Dov looked blank. “Just tell me where and when and I will be there.”

Meet me at Regina’s Pizzeria on Thacher Street at 7:30. Hopefully we won’t run into my ex.”

“Your what? What’s an ex?”

Cara was silent for a few seconds. “You are quite strange, Dov. I will catch you at 7:30, then.”

* * *

Dov moved to her private bedroom to relax and get ready for dinner. This was her first quiet moment of the day and it allowed her time to reflect. She gestured, pleased when a holographic image materialized. Her AIs must have set up a localized network within the hotel room.

“Map of Boston, and route to Thacher Street.” A map spread out and showed step-by-step directions. The route appeared straightforward enough.

Dov had a thought. “Show my home in New Washahikan.”

A three-dimensional video detailed her Pachamama home and surrounding area. It was tagged six days ago, the last available data. It seemed a lifetime ago. Would her home still exist if she returned? The whole idea distressed her. Worse, if anyone was in a position to understand this riddle, it would be the professor who best understands the science of time and space: herself. She thought about Elder Brumion. Did, or would he, ever exist? Dov gestured and explored inside her home—her bedroom and her office where, with the window open, she enjoyed the afternoon rains and the calming late evening sounds from the red forest. Even if Pachamama would not be colonized in an altered timeline, Dov took comfort in the fact that the forests would be thriving with or without humanity. The moons would still rise and set.

She thought once more of Elder Brumion. Should she mourn those who may never be born? Tears welled up in her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. She sat on her bed and recited a small blessing for what may never be.

She stretched. “This is all so messed up,” she whispered to herself as she powered down the holograph.

Dov left early and elected to walk to the pizzeria. More than wanting the exercise, she wished to explore, to learn and consume the sights, sounds, and atmosphere of twenty-first century Earth. And she looked forward to more time alone. Dov felt safe; she was sure of her directions and calculated there would still be daylight during the walk to the pizzeria.

Exiting through the main rotating doors of the Westin Copely, Dov headed toward St. James Avenue and the Trinity Church, where dozens of tourists used their phones to photograph the church, either alone or by awkwardly holding their phone outstretched and blocking the church with their face. She found the behavior strange, for why obscure the amazing historical artifact to simply observe yourself? She paused to absorbed the historic beauty of the church. Utilizing her new understanding of the twenty-first century devices, she snapped panoramas of her surroundings, including the Boston Public Library and the Fairmont Hotel.

A tall, elegant man approached and startled her when he asked, “Would you mind taking a picture of me in front of the church?”

Dov hesitated but could not think of a reason to say no. “Sure, but can you set the camera software up for me, please?”

He readied the phone, then handed it to her. Dov examined the phone and smiled, relieved with its ease of use. She centered him in the screen, moved her finger to the shutter button—and Ariel interrupted.

“Dov, our algos have detected an outlier with this man,” he subvocalized to her. “We need a few seconds. Please delay.”

She stalled by asking the man, “Can I take the picture from a few angles? It’s such a beautiful setting.”

“No thanks,” he said. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Just a quick photo, thank you.”

“Okay.” Dov intentionally moved slowly.

He approached her and she handed his phone back. “Again, my thanks.” He walked away.

Dov waited until he was out of sight. “So, Ariel?”

“You aren’t going to believe it,” Uriel responded. “There is a 92 percent certainty that this man was an acquaintance of Misko in Sarajevo.”

“What?”

“Unfortunately, he left in a direction we haven’t yet covered with our cameras. But fortunately, Ariel hurried to track him.”

“Shall I try to find him?” Dov said, hoping not to.

“No, you go enjoy your dinner with Cara. That’s just as important.”

“Keep me informed.”

Dov continued toward Arlington, past the Boston Park Plaza. She sat on a bench and subvocalized, “Uriel, why did he have me take his picture? Wouldn’t only a legitimate tourist do that?”

“None of his other actions were consistent with those of a tourist.” Uriel switched to a London accent. “He hurried to engage with you, then he likewise hurried away. He appeared to have no interest in the Trinity Church, only in you.”

Dov rolled her eyes. “Another mystery to solve, eh, Sherlock? But in all seriousness, his demeanor seemed out of place. And what if he was Misko’s friend? Would that not mean he was following us through time?”

“It could indicate that he is somehow connected to the time wave disturbances. Perhaps he is playing on another team opposed to us, either trying to disrupt or maybe preserve a timeline.”

“Exactly.”

“Ariel is still searching, but nothing yet.”

“Tell me if he discovers something?”

“Indubitably, my dear.”

The remainder of the walk to Regina’s Pizzeria distracted her enough to partially forget about the strange man at the church. It didn’t take her long to understand how to navigate the intersections and streets, but Boston’s density was orders of magnitude greater than communities on Pachamama. The vehicle traffic generated not only noise but fuel residue odor, which wore on her. She arrived at Regina’s Pizzeria five minutes early and was happy to see Cara at a table.

Cara greeted Dov with a hug. “I came early because I figured you would have no idea what to do when you arrived—being from another time, I mean.” Cara smiled, amused. “I’m teasing you, Dov. It’s nice to see you again. How was the rest of your afternoon?”

Dov smiled. “I walked here. I’m in awe of Boston.”

“It sure is something, though a little busy for me. It’s nice to get out in the countryside. Maybe I should take you away from the city, if you are still here in a few weeks. We will be right in the middle of fall, and New Hampshire is amazing then. Anyway, I’m starving. We should order before it becomes a zoo in here.”

“A zoo?”

Cara smiled but ignored the question. “What do you like?”

“You decide, Cara. Can we share?”

Cara looked at Dov, and her gaze lingered. “You outdid yourself, Dov. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” Dov felt shy, wanting to compliment Cara but unable to find the words. She was amazed by Cara’s confidence.

The pizzeria filled with people and soon became noisy and full of energy. They ordered and shared a large Neapolitan and a bottle of Chilean cabernet sauvignon. The conversation remained light and shifted from current politics and events to a comparison of technologies, language, culture, and expression. Midway through a lively and entertaining exploration of art and fashion, Cara raised her finger to stop the discussion.

“I believe you, Dov.” Cara stared intently. “I realized this, like, just now this instant. I didn’t believe you, in my heart, even a few minutes ago. But I think I am there. You have an understanding of the physics of time beyond anyone I know of.” Cara took Dov’s hands. “I like you, and I trust you, and my instincts are good.” She squeezed Dov’s hands. “Dov, tell me, why are you here? Why are you talking to me? Tell me the truth. I need honesty.”

Dov had not prepared for this. To tell the whole truth. But here it was in front of her. “Because something in the next few days may very well change history in an incredibly disruptive manner, and it involves you.”

“Why? How do you know that?” Cara replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Ironically, we know this because of your math—at least the basis of it—plus some of mine, as well.” Dov helped herself to the last slice of pizza.

“What do you mean, it involves me?” Cara sounded a little skeptical, balanced by an undertone of uncertainty. It was the first time Dov noticed a shift in her confidence.

“We are able to detect inconsistencies in the time-waves, ripples within a single dimension—these are anomalies. The ripples emanate from space-time and events. Using AI, we can correlate events to people. You are one.”

“Are there others?”

“Yes, unfortunately. We—” Dov stopped herself. A chill ran through her.

“We, what?”

Dov hesitated.

“You don’t have to say if you’d rather not.”

Dov took a deep breath. “There are four anomalies, and yours is the second. We have already maneuvered through the first anomaly. It didn’t go well.”

“Tell me.”

“The anomaly was an assassination in Sarajevo involving a man named Misko Jovanović which we failed to prevent, causing some large war. World War One, I think.”

“If it’s about an assassination in World War One, you must be referring to the assassination of Archduke what’s-his-face.”

“Ferdinand.”

“Yes, Archduke Ferdinand. Let me google that.”

“Google?” asked Dov as Cara pulled out her phone.

“Here, I think I found him. Is this your Misko? He has a Wikipedia page.” Cara showed Dov a black and white photo of Misko Jovanović. “Looks like he was executed in 1915. I hope that’s not my fate.” Cara laughed.

The waiting staff cleared the table and the queue lengthened outside the restaurant. “We better go, Dov. There is so much to talk about. Come on, let’s walk back to my place.

Cara paused. “Sorry about that comment, it wasn’t very sensitive. I mean about Misko.”

“It’s fine, I barely knew him.” Dov thought about Misko and how he had been manipulated. It wasn’t fair. He had family and seemed a kind but confused man.

“You okay, Dov?” Cara asked. “You look sad.”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s strange to think about the impact you have on people’s lives. The power of time travel. I was thinking about Misko, actually, and wondering about other lives that I may have impacted. It’s one thing to think about math, but another when real people are involved.”