Broken Symmetry

“What do we do?” Ray opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a piece of paper, which he passed over to Kristin. She read it and whistled.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“I am.”

She waved the paper in Ray’s face. “Why didn’t you show me this before?”

“I just worked out the physics a few days ago. Besides, I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought that once Reichen saw what we had, he’d naturally let us continue.”

“But he doesn’t believe in the people of the other universe.”

“No, so he doesn’t believe that they’re sharing data with us.” Ray took the paper from Kristin and ran his eyes over it. “I think this may be our only option. We just have to convince our counterparts in the other universe to cooperate.”

“Ray, maybe we shouldn’t attempt this. It sounds too dangerous. Maybe you were right—maybe it’s time to end things, here and now.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. He stood up, turned around, and walked to the window behind him. He stared outside, with his back to Kristin. When he next spoke, it seemed to Kristin that he spoke as much to himself as to her.

“You know, back when they were about to test the first atomic bomb, Enrico Fermi started taking bets on what the bomb would do. There was a small possibility, they said, that the bomb might ignite the atmosphere, and destroy the world completely. If I remember the story correctly, Fermi took the other side of the bet, figuring that if he lost he wouldn’t have to worry about paying up.”

“I thought he took the side that the atmosphere would ignite, and that he was relieved that he had to pay up.”

Ray turned to look at Kristin. “Either way, there comes a time when you have to do the experiment, because—because you just have to.” He walked back to his desk, bent over to write a message, and handed it to Kristin. “Here. Send this to them. We’ll schedule it for tomorrow afternoon. Make sure Reichen finds out in time to show up. But not in time to stop it.”

Kristin took the message and hurried out.

10. Spin Down

Roy Schwitters looked at the group of people he had assembled here on this empty plain, for what he hoped would be a historic first. Harold Volin, of course, who had figured everything out down to the last millisecond; they stood at T minus ten minutes. There were some of the other scientists recruited to work on the SSC as well, gathered around the makeshift cryonic chamber, half the height of a man, which they had managed to construct to contain the SQUID. They had barely an inkling of what was about to transpire.

And finally, mostly recovered but still seeming a bit weak, was Jack Levinson, one of the two teachers who had been witness to the explosion that had first dragged Roy back to the SSC. Levinson kept darting his head around, as if he expected to see another explosion any moment.

Or, perhaps, he expected to see his deceased friend Daniel Strock bicycling over, revealing his death to be a practical joke. Roy shook his head at the depressing thought, and looked away. He didn’t mean for today to make up for what Levinson had gone through, but he felt that the man had just as much right to be present as Roy himself did.

Just then, Harold tapped Roy on the shoulder. “Look,” he said, pointing in the direction of the afternoon Sun, and away from the scientists gathered around the SQUID. Two figures could be seen emerging from a car, a good distance away. They began to approach the small group of scientists.

“I was afraid this might happen,” Roy said. “Let’s see what they want.”

In less than a minute, the two men stopped in front of Roy and Harold. Roy recognized Sheriff Kingsley, who nodded his head by way of greeting. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, odd for a man who always made himself fit in anywhere.

“Hello, Sheriff,” Roy said. “I don’t think I remember your friend’s name.” It was the FBI agent who had tried to coordinate everything at the beginning; Roy had ignored him in favor of Kingsley, which he was now just beginning to think might have been a politically bad move.

“Sam Stratton,” the agent said by way of reintroduction. “The sheriff told me you would be here.” Stratton pointed at Kingsley, who looked at Roy as if pleading for forgiveness.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Stratton?”

Stratton pulled a paper out of the pocket of his blazer and handed it to Roy. “You can pick up and leave. I’m ordering all of you out of this area immediately.”

Roy took the paper, smiled, and thrust it back at Stratton without reading it. “Sorry, no can do.”

Kingsley cleared his throat and spoke up. “Doc Schwitters, be reasonable. I told this fellow that you would.”

Roy shook his head. “Sheriff, we’re about to witness something very important here. We can’t go just yet.”

“Listen to me,” Stratton said. “Is it true what Sheriff Kingsley told me? Have you predicted another explosion for this piece of the ring, in just a few minutes?”

“Not an explosion. A beam.”