History Shattered

“I like to engage the public because when I was in high school, I had all these questions about anti-matter, higher dimensions and time travel. Every time I went to the library, every time I asked people these questions, I would get some strange looks. Nobody could answer any of these questions.” -- Michio Kaku

It was after four in the afternoon, and no one had approached Monica wanting to volunteer. She wasn’t surprised. Volunteering might seem noble and heroic on the surface, but when someone thought long and hard about all the problems that might present themselves in carrying out the repair mission to the fourteenth century, and then layered the notion of becoming stranded in such a difficult and foreign environment, the glamour quickly vanished. She had already decided, at least partially based on her post-meeting conversation with Colonel James, that anyone who might approach her today would be questioned regarding his or her willingness to kill another human being. That person would then be asked to reconsider their volunteer status overnight and re-approach her in the morning if they still felt called to do so.

She could only think of a couple of her scientists who might even approach her to volunteer. Both of them were male and single; athletic, outdoor types that did lots of camping. She had no clue about any of the soldiers. She realized she had never attempted to know any of the personal histories of the servicemen, the total opposite of what she had insisted upon doing with all of her scientists. She wondered what that suggested about her and about the at times awkward relationship between PD’s scientific and military units. Whatever it suggested, it was definitely not very flattering.

Colonel James found her around 4:30 p.m. and informed her that he had called a meeting of his senior staff for 5:00 p.m. Based on her request and her own willingness to consider his troops as potential candidates for her time travel volunteer position, it seemed only fair that he extend an olive branch of sorts to his scientific colleagues and allow Monica and her two lieutenants to attend. He also made it abundantly clear that the meeting was military in nature, and that he expected the scientists to play the roles of technical advisors and observers. Jasmine was to be designated as the recorder of the meeting for purposes of creating an accurate record of the history prior to the third wormhole attempt. He assumed that any additional attempts would result in another shift of current time and personnel, just as the two prior time travel episodes had. Monica aborted her attempt at an early dinner and went in search of her two busy colleagues. The three of them needed to meet for at least a few minutes prior to the commencement of the meeting with the facility’s senior military representatives.

Her instructions to her colleagues were remarkably similar to the ones she had given to them a couple of days ago…, or twelve years in the future, depending on how one viewed the meeting which had occurred in 2043. Professional behavior, technical accuracy, persuasion rather than argument, build trust, comradery and a sense of teamwork and cooperation, do nothing to jeopardize their seat at the table for this decision…, all still applied. The turf belonged to the military. The rules were different. Debate would not be free form. Rank and experience were trump cards. Those were the rules.

Colonel James had informed her that his son, though only a Lieutenant, would also be attending these meetings. He made Monica understand this was a departure from all previous meetings involving his senior advisors. He indicated he had never wanted to create any sense of entitlement or nepotism, and that the younger Michael had not yet earned a seat at the table. It was only because of their glimpse into the future of PD in 2043, which featured his son as the facility’s military commander, that the younger James was being included in these discussions. Mike expressed a belief that his son wasn’t ready for the nature of these discussions, but given what their presentations had revealed about the facility’s future, it now seemed like the appropriate course of action to pursue. He had also wondered aloud if knowing the future wasn’t triggering a reaction in him that would become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Colonel James called the meeting to order. He made a point of introducing Monica, Pat, Jasmine and his son as part of his opening remarks. He did not make any effort to introduce any of the regular attendees. It appeared to the scientists as if all of the regulars had assigned seats they always sat in for meetings, and that four additional chairs had been brought in for the guests. There was no overt attempt to make them feel like interlopers or somehow less worthy participants, but Monica and her colleagues couldn’t help but feel that way. Monica glanced at the younger Mike James. Rather than feeling any sense of discomfort, he seemed excited to be included in the meeting despite the controlled exterior he projected. Monica sensed it was like the son being invited to eat at the grown-up table for the family’s big holiday dinner.

“So what impressions did you come away from the three science team meetings with? Anybody?”

“No offense to anyone at the table, but they don’t have a fuckin’ clue what they’re doing.”

“They’ve been lucky so far that they haven’t killed somebody or screwed things up even worse.”

“They have killed people, though, maybe as many as five billion by their own count, although we’ve gotta give ‘em credit for putting ‘em all back…, sort of.”

“OK…, let’s stop with the civilian bashing for a few moments. They’ve been dealing with a phenomenon they don’t understand. That much is clear…, but we don’t understand it either. None of us felt like what they were attempting up until now was poorly conceived enough to try to stop it.”

“OK, well, now we know better. Let’s hope we’ve learned a little from what failed in the second attempt. We’ve got Doctor Edmiston here. Can we ask him some questions?”

“That’s part of why he’s here….”

“Pat…, call me Pat.”

OK, Pat. I don’t pretend to understand how this whole quantum physics atom smashing shit works. Frankly, I’m quite comfortable in the knowledge that there are guys like you and your scientific colleagues who are smart enough to figure it out. From my simple perspective, I see two fundamental flaws with what you guys attempted in 2043. First, the collider wasn’t able to function at what I’ll label as full capacity, so the energy created by the particle collision didn’t produce enough horsepower. Second, even after the wormhole was created, you guys didn’t have a way to keep feeding it enough energy to keep it alive…, open…, I don’t know what the proper term is, but it closed without you being able to get your guy home. In my mind that’s totally unacceptable. We don’t leave a man behind…, ever. I’m curious to see how you react to my assessment of what did or didn’t go wrong. And at least as importantly, I’m curious to hear what or how things would go differently if there’s another attempt. And I don’t mean for this to sound like an attack on you, cuz it’s not.”

“I’ve consulted on several government projects before I got to PD, including a few for the military. I’ve been in meetings like this. Don’t worry, Major. I’m not offended. Your questions are totally legit. Let me see what I can do to answer them in an orderly fashion, but please realize I’m just studying the data at this point. The collision in question won’t have taken place for another twelve years. As for that particle collision…, we evidently knew we had an energy capacity issue. One of the things we were attempting was to disable the electromagnetics as an attempt to compensate and to remove the containment barriers for the energy waves produced by the collision. When the part failure occurred, we were out of back-up options. Disabling the electromagnets limited the ability for our computer systems to make instantaneous adjustments to compensate. So at least we know what went wrong. We’ve got a replacement part. We’ll test it. If we can create a full power collision, then the computer-triggered compensation and adjustment features of the accelerator should be able to do their jobs. The short answer is that we’ll have our back-up systems back online.

Your second question related to our ability, or more precisely our lack thereof, to sustain the wormhole…, again a legit question. This one’s a bit tougher to answer because we know far less about the structure and behavioral characteristics of the anomaly than we do about the accelerator and what went wrong in the particle collision. Now, in spite of our limited knowledge, we were able to monitor the leakage of energy caused by the rupture in Station 28’s lead hull. In essence, it gave us an energy bleed rate. We have less data, but nonetheless similar data, on the first anomaly, which of course had a much slower rate of dissipation. We can compare the data and determine in an approximate way, how much energy would need to be fed into 28 to keep the anomaly’s energy bleed at a manageable level. Even as I say that, I’m not sure how to define exactly what a manageable level is. The reality is that to create the anomaly in the first place, we must produce massive amounts of energy and focus them in a confined, effectively sealed space. Even in that space, the anomaly decays fairly rapidly. Who knows exactly how or why it bleeds. For all I know, much of the energy bleeds off at the far end of the wormhole. The behavior’s been described like a fluid or a wave, so it’s quite possible there’s significant leakage with each ebb and flow.

I’m sorry…, I’ve been describing the phenomenon rather than answering your question. I want to, as part of what you and your engineering guys are doing during the next thirty-six hours, bring some high voltage cables into 28. I want to boost our capacity to pump power into 28 as much as we reasonably can. I know we can’t generate the kind of power necessary to sustain a wormhole, but maybe we can buy somewhere from a few to several hours of keeping it alive. Based on what we think we know, for every three or four hours we can buy at this end, we buy a day at the other end…, what I’ll glibly refer to as the business end of the wormhole. The hope would clearly be to purchase enough additional time to get our volunteer home, and perhaps, with a little bit of good fortune, maybe Tyler, too. Now, I think I answered your ‘what went wrong’ questions as well as your ‘how would we do it different’ questions. I commend you, Major, for your thoughts regarding what could be done to prolong the lifespan of the anomaly. I’ll be totally honest and admit to you we’re guessing, but we don’t need to be completely right…, just mostly. Did I miss anything?”

“No, Pat…, and for the record, I liked your answers.”

“Good.”

“Monica, any volunteers yet?”

“Not yet. In fact nobody’s even approached me with any questions so far. I figured I’d at least get a couple of those today.”

“I’m not surprised. That’s a pretty big apple to ask someone to take a bite out of. I mean you’re asking someone to not only likely exile themselves to what qualifies as about as desolate a third world spot as there is without any hope of improvement in the quality of life…, ever, but you’re also telling them they need to infect people with a deadly disease. If it was some dictator or warlord or even some terrible drug kingpin or something like that, it would be easier to accept, but these are just ordinary people who are being forced to die…, not because they did anything wrong, but because they need to be part of some huge chunk of collateral damage in the first bit of biological warfare on record. There’s very little there that would inspire someone to want to do it.”

“I’m glad you’re not doing any recruiting for me, Captain.”

Monica’s remark produced the first burst of laughter the meeting had contained. She couldn’t stop wondering if these meetings were always so intense, and if it was a normal practice for the officers to bash the scientists they worked with. She cringed as she recalled all the sarcastic remarks made by her scientific colleagues at the expense of the facility’s military staff. They all definitely needed to work on coexisting a bit more cohesively.

“I’d like to ask a question if that’s allowed?”

“Please do, Director…”

“I’d like to understand the process you would use when evaluating any military applications for either the particle collider or the concept of time travel.”

“That’s a pretty open-ended question, Director. I think I’ll give our young Lieutenant, who’s a freshly minted Air Force Academy grad, the opportunity to show us all what he learned by answering that question.”

For the first time since the meeting began Lieutenant Michael James, Jr. looked nervous. Monica suspected that his father had likely told him to function in a strictly observational capacity during the meeting, which might explain why the young officer had looked so calm. Now, he was suddenly placed in a position of offering a dissertation in front of all of his superiors and three brilliant scientists. Monica imagined she’d be nervous, too. In fact she was nervous.

“Well, as for the particle accelerator, it has multiple potential military applications. They might be in any of three categories, first as a power source, second with potential medical or scientific applications and third as a weapon. I’ve only been here since June, and I’m not familiar enough with the capabilities to get very specific, but its potential application as a power source is self-evident. Based on the two particle collisions that are part of this discussion, this facility has already produced the two most powerful energy bursts ever recorded. I’m not a physicist, but if that brings us closer to solving the fusion versus fission dilemma, then we could be looking at a way to permanently solve any energy crises that might arise globally. That also suggests solving environmental issues and could become an overwhelmingly powerful diplomatic and humanitarian tool as well. The medical, scientific and weapon applications would take more evaluation, and I don’t think I’m qualified to do anything beyond pointing out that such opportunities exist. In either case, there would be a lengthy evaluation and approval process between anything learned here at PD and actual conversion to a useful tool in mass production and general use.

As for time travel…, well, that would be an ultimate weapon, wouldn’t it? Even if a country or a military force possessing it lost a battle, they could utilize such a tool to alter any outcome in their favor. It could have even more applications in covert ops. Any potential political or military target could be wiped out across time. The potential of such a weapon would be essentially unlimited. That would assume that time travel could be refined, though. As of now, we’re looking at what seems to me to be a random destination. The other end of the wormhole just happens to be in fourteenth century Crimea. That wasn’t a specific target, at least not for the first particle collision. We aren’t even sure that the second collision produced a wormhole going there, although I’ll acknowledge that there seems to be a growing mountain of anecdotal evidence to support such a conclusion. It’s convenient that it remains our targeted destination, especially if we’re serious about making a third attempt, but that’s more a product of good fortune on our part than anything else.

So, there would need to be rigorous testing with an eye toward figuring out how to target destinations. We don’t know enough to even begin such a process yet. And when I speak of destinations, realize I’m talking on two levels. Space-time has two components, so we would need to learn to aim it in terms of both where and when. Theoretically, it would seem like there should be a way to do that, but we may be decades or even centuries away from understanding the science to make that happen.

Then there’s the need for secrecy and security. Time travel would only be the ultimate weapon as long as only one political power had the capability. I’m not going to engage in a moralistic discussion here, but if multiple parties had such a capability, they could essentially cancel out each other’s efforts, or do far worse, as in trashing history for all of mankind. We’ve seen how easy it is to blow up history accidentally. Can you imagine the historical chaos that would ensue from deliberately attacking parts of the past? I can imagine some good which might come from such a weapon, but it’s much easier to picture all the bad which could result from its usage.

Finally, there’s the political element to such power. If history suggests anything to us, it’s that political power almost always gets abused. Sometimes it’s subtle and sometimes it’s overt, but it almost always seems to happen. I have a hard time picturing a scenario where an entity possessed the ability to time travel and didn’t eventually utilize it in some politically advantageous or self-serving way. I guess I got a little carried away answering your question, Director. I didn’t mean to climb on my soapbox like that.”

“That’s OK, Lieutenant. I very much appreciated you sharing your thoughts on the subject.”

While Monica’s remark was kind, Colonel James was less conciliatory. “Lieutenant, in the future please confine your answers to direct responses to the question. We all have soapboxes we can climb on, and the soapboxes of these other officers in the room are built on far more practical experience than you possess. Try to keep that in mind.”

“Yes, sir…, sorry, sir. I just…”

“That’ll be all, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

The younger James’ cheeks flushed red. Maybe it was anger. Maybe it was embarrassment. Probably it was a mixture of the two. Monica felt badly that she had put the young man in such a compromising position, but she simultaneously realized it had been his father who had placed him in a position to answer her question. Perhaps it was a senior officer testing a new subordinate. Maybe it was the father testing his son. There were probably family dynamics that nobody in the room, including parent and child totally understood. Regardless, she had unintentionally prompted a shift in the mood of the meeting to an awkward state. But she also knew she needed to understand what the military mindset regarding the militarization of time travel might be, so she decided to keep pushing.

“Colonel, what do you believe the chances are, given the many risks and potential pitfalls the Lieutenant just touched on, that there will be a push to militarize time travel?”

“Director, I know it’s not the answer you want to hear, but I also suspect it’s the answer you expect. I believe there will be a definite push to militarize time travel. Whether that push is taken to its ultimate conclusion or not would be pure speculation at this point. I believe the lines blur for quite some time in terms of refining time travel techniques and its development as a tool…, a scientific tool, not a military tool. But I will also acknowledge that once that scientific development has progressed to a certain point, it would be a relatively short additional step to weaponization. I think it’s virtually impossible to separate those two paths for most of that journey. Director, please understand I’m neither attempting to be flippant nor obtuse. I truly believe the scientific and military journeys are joined at the hip.”

“So, your answer is ‘yes’?”

“My answer is that I see no way this new avenue of research would be abandoned, given its potential. Militarization is a definite possibility. There’s no way to know at this time what direction the research will take us.”

“That’s a pretty nebulous answer, Colonel.”

“It is what it is, Director.”