Quantum Defect, Page 2
Ronan Frost
say, this time I won’t be humiliated. No, this discovery is mine!”
“Professor, please, this is very important. Just give me an hour.”
The Professor drew in a breath, held it, then exhaled noisily through hairy nostrils.
“Ten minutes.”
“Thirty.”
“Fifteen.”
“Don’t do anything,” said Fisher, getting off the device and brushing the sand from his pants. “I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
The Professor watched Fisher dart through the gap in the tent, and then he was alone. He drove the crowbar into the sand and then took a walk around the circumference of the tent in a deliberately slow manner. He had barely completed one lap, however, when he cast a look at the motionless hanging tent flap and, reaching sudden decision, crossed to the center of the tent and crouched beside the device.
“One more, just to be sure,” he muttered to himself. This panel came away with no little work, and he was forced to remove one of his gloves to get better grip. He felt sure that under this panel would be the linkages that would be the key to solving the mystery of the device.
There was simply, however, a limp flash and pop. The Professor withdrew, shaking his head to himself, and checked his watch.
He was still pacing when, eleven minutes later, Fisher returned.
“Galactic co-ordinates,” he said, panting. “They’re galactic co-ordinates.”
“Now what in the world are you rambling on about?”
“I rang a friend at the observatory. It’s a star, four hundred and thirty light years away.”
“Hah!”
Fisher looked at the device. The imprinted markings were shallow and rounded.
“Have you opened another panel?” he asked.
The Professor gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.”
Fisher bit back whatever comment he was about to make and calmed himself. “There’s something communicating through this thing, I’m sure of it.”
“Preposterous!” exclaimed the Professor, but after a pause of several long seconds of noisy breathing, he said: “Who? You’re not suggesting…?”
“What if this is some kind of probe? From deep space, that has taken hundreds or maybe thousands of years to arrive.”
“The aliens have sent us a telephone?”
Fisher gave a hesitant shrug. “Come on, does it look like anything that has come from Earth?”
The Professor inclined his head, conceding the point.
“Then how does it work? If they are hundreds of light years away, then it’s impossible you can be communicating with them. Ever heard of a little theory called Relativity?”
“Yes, nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. But what if this were some kind of quantum communicator? Electrons are entangled then forcibly separated, the spin information on each becomes opposite the other, undefined but correlated even when separated by distance.”
“Rubbish! Such a link cannot carry any meaningful message.”
“It goes backwards through time. Entanglement ignores time as it ignores distance.”
“Spooky action at a distance,” replied the Professor with a knowing smirk. “Rubbish! You think aliens prepared this little box,” he gestured at the device, his brows raised sarcastically, “With a special set of elements that were linked to another box, and the they sent one of these boxes off into the vague unknown of deep space –”
“Maybe they’ve got good optical instruments. Maybe it was deliberately aimed, maybe they saw us.”
“The us of a thousand years ago. We weren’t doing a lot to attract attention at that time.”
Fisher shrugged. “Even so, they took a bet. We get one of the boxes, and by manipulating parts of it the corresponding opposite parts in their box activate. We have instant communication!”
“Come on, you can’t be that stupid. Quantum mechanics is inherently statistical.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know. Come on, admit it, it may be possible.”
“With every button push, you’re using up the entangled particles.”
“It’s got a limited lifetime, yes. But by opening the panels you are exposing the particles to observation and destroying their wavefunction.”
“The wavefunction that extends hundreds of light years away? Give me a break!”
“No wait – ”
With a flourish the Professor drew away the last panel. The glowing symbols faded completely.
“Gone, it’s all gone!” Fisher ran his hand over the flank of the device, pushing hard, but there was nothing upon the now-cool metal but a slight surface roughness.
“Humanity’s only chance to communicate –”
“To aliens? Come on, get serious.”
“They are now further away than ever.”
“Hey, it’s your crackpot theory, not mine.”
“Well whatever it was, it’s useless now, there’s no way to recharge it.”
The Professor gave the device a kick with the toe of his boot. It made a dull hollow sound.
“Just supposing you’re right. Look, there’s no point getting everyone worked up about this. I mean, water under the bridge and all of that.”
They both looked up, startled like two school children caught red-handed as the Major suddenly burst into the tent. He looked at them both suspiciously.
“I heard shouting. The delegation is on its way.” The Major’s eyes narrowed as he sensed something suspicious. “Just what exactly has been going on here? Have you figured out what it is?”
Fisher pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and shot the Professor an accusing glare. The Professor, in response, gave an elaborately innocent shrug.
Fisher exhaled heavily.
“No sir. I guess it’s a dud.”
About the author:
Raised on a diet of Tolkien, Star Wars and everything in between, Ronan was first inspired to put pen to paper in primary school after being awestruck by a classmate’s hand-drawn comic book. He would spend hours after school penning his own comic, complete with lots of red ink for blood on axes and swords. Fast-forward twenty years, and his interest in science and the stranger-than-fiction world of the quantum and relativistic has led him into a career in research. In his spare time Ronan still loves to write fiction.
Thank you for reading this book! Please take a moment to leave a review and rating, it really does mean the world to an author. More information about Ronan’s other work can be found at
ronanfrost.weebly.com
And he can be contact by email
[email protected]
Thank you for reading books on Archive.BookFrom.Net
Share this book with friends
“Professor, please, this is very important. Just give me an hour.”
The Professor drew in a breath, held it, then exhaled noisily through hairy nostrils.
“Ten minutes.”
“Thirty.”
“Fifteen.”
“Don’t do anything,” said Fisher, getting off the device and brushing the sand from his pants. “I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
The Professor watched Fisher dart through the gap in the tent, and then he was alone. He drove the crowbar into the sand and then took a walk around the circumference of the tent in a deliberately slow manner. He had barely completed one lap, however, when he cast a look at the motionless hanging tent flap and, reaching sudden decision, crossed to the center of the tent and crouched beside the device.
“One more, just to be sure,” he muttered to himself. This panel came away with no little work, and he was forced to remove one of his gloves to get better grip. He felt sure that under this panel would be the linkages that would be the key to solving the mystery of the device.
There was simply, however, a limp flash and pop. The Professor withdrew, shaking his head to himself, and checked his watch.
He was still pacing when, eleven minutes later, Fisher returned.
“Galactic co-ordinates,” he said, panting. “They’re galactic co-ordinates.”
“Now what in the world are you rambling on about?”
“I rang a friend at the observatory. It’s a star, four hundred and thirty light years away.”
“Hah!”
Fisher looked at the device. The imprinted markings were shallow and rounded.
“Have you opened another panel?” he asked.
The Professor gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.”
Fisher bit back whatever comment he was about to make and calmed himself. “There’s something communicating through this thing, I’m sure of it.”
“Preposterous!” exclaimed the Professor, but after a pause of several long seconds of noisy breathing, he said: “Who? You’re not suggesting…?”
“What if this is some kind of probe? From deep space, that has taken hundreds or maybe thousands of years to arrive.”
“The aliens have sent us a telephone?”
Fisher gave a hesitant shrug. “Come on, does it look like anything that has come from Earth?”
The Professor inclined his head, conceding the point.
“Then how does it work? If they are hundreds of light years away, then it’s impossible you can be communicating with them. Ever heard of a little theory called Relativity?”
“Yes, nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. But what if this were some kind of quantum communicator? Electrons are entangled then forcibly separated, the spin information on each becomes opposite the other, undefined but correlated even when separated by distance.”
“Rubbish! Such a link cannot carry any meaningful message.”
“It goes backwards through time. Entanglement ignores time as it ignores distance.”
“Spooky action at a distance,” replied the Professor with a knowing smirk. “Rubbish! You think aliens prepared this little box,” he gestured at the device, his brows raised sarcastically, “With a special set of elements that were linked to another box, and the they sent one of these boxes off into the vague unknown of deep space –”
“Maybe they’ve got good optical instruments. Maybe it was deliberately aimed, maybe they saw us.”
“The us of a thousand years ago. We weren’t doing a lot to attract attention at that time.”
Fisher shrugged. “Even so, they took a bet. We get one of the boxes, and by manipulating parts of it the corresponding opposite parts in their box activate. We have instant communication!”
“Come on, you can’t be that stupid. Quantum mechanics is inherently statistical.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know. Come on, admit it, it may be possible.”
“With every button push, you’re using up the entangled particles.”
“It’s got a limited lifetime, yes. But by opening the panels you are exposing the particles to observation and destroying their wavefunction.”
“The wavefunction that extends hundreds of light years away? Give me a break!”
“No wait – ”
With a flourish the Professor drew away the last panel. The glowing symbols faded completely.
“Gone, it’s all gone!” Fisher ran his hand over the flank of the device, pushing hard, but there was nothing upon the now-cool metal but a slight surface roughness.
“Humanity’s only chance to communicate –”
“To aliens? Come on, get serious.”
“They are now further away than ever.”
“Hey, it’s your crackpot theory, not mine.”
“Well whatever it was, it’s useless now, there’s no way to recharge it.”
The Professor gave the device a kick with the toe of his boot. It made a dull hollow sound.
“Just supposing you’re right. Look, there’s no point getting everyone worked up about this. I mean, water under the bridge and all of that.”
They both looked up, startled like two school children caught red-handed as the Major suddenly burst into the tent. He looked at them both suspiciously.
“I heard shouting. The delegation is on its way.” The Major’s eyes narrowed as he sensed something suspicious. “Just what exactly has been going on here? Have you figured out what it is?”
Fisher pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and shot the Professor an accusing glare. The Professor, in response, gave an elaborately innocent shrug.
Fisher exhaled heavily.
“No sir. I guess it’s a dud.”
About the author:
Raised on a diet of Tolkien, Star Wars and everything in between, Ronan was first inspired to put pen to paper in primary school after being awestruck by a classmate’s hand-drawn comic book. He would spend hours after school penning his own comic, complete with lots of red ink for blood on axes and swords. Fast-forward twenty years, and his interest in science and the stranger-than-fiction world of the quantum and relativistic has led him into a career in research. In his spare time Ronan still loves to write fiction.
Thank you for reading this book! Please take a moment to leave a review and rating, it really does mean the world to an author. More information about Ronan’s other work can be found at
ronanfrost.weebly.com
And he can be contact by email
[email protected]
Thank you for reading books on Archive.BookFrom.Net
Share this book with friends
