Futures

By Edison Carver

A hundred years in the future, humans have finally cracked the secrets of time travel. By manipulating the energy in the Higgs Quantum Electromagnetic Field with their minds, individuals can travel freely throughout both space and timebut not without a price.

Time travelers are disappearing in the past, never to be heard from againand no one knows why. Others are returning from the past and claiming to be from another future, another universe. They are declared insane and locked away in mental asylums.

Determined to uncover the truth, two officers from the time travel police force risk everything to get the answers they need. They break all the rules and find themselves in a different future. There, they discover a horrible truth.

To make matters worse, three super villains from a distant future have fled to our time in a desperate bid to hide from their own government. A history professor has dabbled with the Higgs Field to help an ancestor in the past, and his efforts have gone horribly wrong. The two time officers must now set things right before it is too late, but they face impossible odds as each action complicates the next, and the past may not be what it once was.

With so many agendas and so many histories at stake, can the officers unravel the mysteries and stop the criminals before time itself is compromised?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: May 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781458203267

Edison Carver

Edison Carver grew up in southeast Idaho and western Wyoming. After completing college, he worked in a mundane desk job at an undisclosed government facility for thirty years. Semi-retired, he now lives with his wife in Arizona. Together, they spend summer in the north with family and friends.

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Contents

Disclaimer:

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

The Envelope

Chapter 2

Weirdness Squared

Chapter 3

The Letter

Chapter 4

Taking the Letter Back

Chapter 5

A New Mission

Chapter 6

Mayhem and Magic

Chapter 7

The Story

Chapter 8

Fixing Things?

Chapter 9

Let’s All Play Nice

Chapter 10

Jim’s Surprise

Chapter 11

When Things Go So Horribly Wrong On So Many Levels

Chapter 12

The Next Day Repeated

Chapter 13

Jim Murders Jim, Twice

Chapter 14

The Man in the Street

Chapter 15

Of Guilt and Innocence

Chapter 16

A Bumpy Landing

Chapter 17

Displacement

Chapter 18

Lost in Time

Chapter 19

Trouble in a History Book

Chapter 20

A Visit to the Bin

Chapter 21

The Crazy Crackpots

Chapter 22

Convergence

Chapter 23

Uneasiness and Some Overdue Fun

Chapter 24

Shale Sandon

Chapter 25

An End to the Evening

Chapter 26

A Chance Meeting?

Chapter 27

Of Guilt and Innocence

Chapter 28

Do I Know You?

Chapter 29

Planning the Kill

Chapter 30

The World Council Comes to Order

Chapter 31

Quaking and Shaking

Chapter 32

An Hourglass Silhouette and the J39-V

Chapter 33

I Found My Heart in San Francisco

Chapter 34

Falling the Wrong Way

Chapter 35

Let the Experiment Begin

Chapter 36

A Different Future

Chapter 37

An Experiment Gone Awry

Chapter 38

Survivors

Chapter 39

Casualties

Chapter 40

War

Chapter 41

Tragedy and Travesty

Chapter 42

Quinn’s Fall

Chapter 43

The Decision

Chapter 44

Crazy in Love?

Chapter 45

A Haunt from the Past

Chapter 46

The Laws of Interdimensional Field Dynamics

Chapter 47

A Headache Hidden

Chapter 48

Back to Where We Belong?

Chapter 49

Going Home

Chapter 50

Laws of Physics governing Time Travel

Chapter 51

Meet Mr. Tolman

Chapter 52

A Chase through Time

Chapter 53

Child Sacrifice

Chapter 54

Do We Have to Put the Money Back?

Chapter 55

A Bad Way to Go

Chapter 56

Waiting for Disaster on So Many Levels

Chapter 57

The Unraveling

Chapter 58

The Decision

Chapter 59

The Capture

Chapter 60

The End of Jim Smith

Chapter 61

An Awakening of Evil

Chapter 62

Closure

Chapter 63

A New Beginning

EPILOGUE

Meeting of The Order of Intelligence

Jim’s Letter

Disclaimer:

This novel is fiction. Any resemblance to reality or beings in any future is

purely coincidental and absolutely unintended.

Business and Marketing

Julia A. Westlake

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Editor in Chief

Emily Cox

Comma Sense Editing

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Blog: commasense1.blogspot.com

Cover Graphics and Visual Design

Michelle Lanier

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Visit Edison’s official website at: www.edisoncarver.com

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Mr. Carver may be contacted through:

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Acknowledgements

No work of any worth is complete without an acknowledgement page. To believe that one writes in a vacuum, alone, unsupported is ludicrous. So many people besides the author contribute to the process of completing a novel. Here are a few:

First and foremost, I thank my darling wife, without whose love and support I would never have had the confidence or the time necessary to devote to writing this work.

I acknowledge my children for keeping interruptions during work time to a minimum.

I acknowledge my editor, Emily Cox, for her insight. Her suggestions, hard work, and careful editing have made this novel the best it could be, in spite of my sometimes stubborn ways.

I acknowledge my graphic artist, Michelle Lanier, whose artistic ability to capture the essence of Futures and create an entire novel on a cover continues to amaze me.

I acknowledge my business and marketing consultant, Julia Westlake, whose tireless efforts to create and maintain my online presence and oversee marketing of this work gives Futures the best chance it has to be successful.

I acknowledge the Blue Canon Group, for handling the logistics of getting this book from my laptop to market.

I give my thanks to H.G. Wells and his novel, The Time Machine, without which time travel adventures would be lost in time.

I give thanks to Jules Verne, whose daring mind explored the wonders of the galaxy and challenged others to dream of the future.

I give my thanks to brilliant astronomers and physicists the world over, whose forward thinking, theories, and experiments have brought us to the very brink of jumping mankind into the realms of the Gods.

I give thanks to Carl Sagan, Michael Talbot, Brian Greene, Michio Kaku, Leon Lederman, Brian Cox, Stephen Hawking, and so many others who have taken the time to publish works that explain difficult concepts in a way that we laymen actually understand the universe better. Someday I hope to meet these giants in science, just to shake their hand.

I also give thanks to the movie trilogy, Back to the Future, which inspired a generation to change their future and to make it a good one.

I give thanks to Gene Roddenberry and Star Trek, whose television episodes and movies involving time travel and thought connected to reality challenged the thinking of generations.

My thanks also goes to George Lucas, and to the movie Star Wars for introducing The Force to generations.

My thanks to the movie Jump for exploring the concept of instantaneous travel.

My thanks to the movie Time Cop for showing the evil that travel in time can foster.

My thanks to early television shows such as The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, Lost in Space, and Star Trek for cutting edge episodes that launched the dreams of a thousand scientists into public awareness.

My thanks to television shows such as Eureka, Warehouse 13, Seven Days, Quantum Leap, and Fringe, which explored the limits that physics might place on time travel and inter-dimensional interaction.

A special thanks goes to the giants of science fiction writing, Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury, Douglas Adams, Orson Scott Card, Robert A. Heinlein, and so many others who wield influence over the often controversial subject of predicting the future through literature, literature which starts as fiction, but often becomes reality.

My thanks to all the writers and actors and producers who ever dared venture into the fascinating world of the future and time travel. Keep dreaming, my friends, keep dreaming.

Most of all, I give a heartfelt thanks to you, the reader. It is my sincerest hope that you have as much fun reading Futures as I had writing it.

Heaven help us all if humans ever learn how to time travel.

Chapter 1

The Envelope

May 10, 2010

California Institute of Technology

Professor Charlie Smith pulled into his parking space and turned off the engine to his cherry-red Ford Fusion. He picked up the Pasadena Star newspaper from the passenger seat and exited his car to begin the two-minute-thirty-eight-second walk to his office in the Cahill Center for Astronomy and Astrophysics on the campus of the California Institute of Technology. He closed the car door and sighed. Long, narrow shadows cast by the early morning sun striated the campus in a stringy pallor of dark and light lines. The scent of dew-laden grass mixed with just a dash of smog to remind him that, although the campus was lush and green, he still lived and worked in a city of millions. Charlie tucked his newspaper under his arm, stepped up onto the sidewalk, and started walking toward his building. He glanced at his own lanky shadow angling out into the lawn from the pavement as he walked along.

I’m walking on stilts, he thought, and he forced a smile. He moved slower than usual this morning, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders; the walk would take at least three minutes today. Charlie raised an eyebrow and calculated the time differential in his head. He looked down and counted the cracks in the sidewalk as he put one foot in front of the other. At the precise time he had anticipated, he reached the stairs to the Cahill Center; he climbed them methodically and entered the building.

After turning on the lights and starting some coffee in the break room, he went down the hall to his office. As he approached his door, he pulled the newspaper from under his arm and reached into his pocket for the keys. He slid the key into the lock and twisted the brushed silver doorknob. As he stepped into his office, Charlie cocked his arm for his daily ritual of tossing the morning paper Frisbee-style across the room to a perfect landing on his desk. He brought his arm forward and started to snap his wrist for the calculated throw. This morning, however, his hand grabbed the newspaper back just as he released it.

Something on Charlie’s desk caught his eye. A large envelope, at least nine inches by twelve inches and a quarter-inch thick, lay on his desk, an envelope that had not been there Friday night when he had locked up. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. The envelope remained. A small lump formed in his throat, and his hand clenched around his newspaper as he took slow steps over to his desk.

The unusually large gray envelope with the words To be opened only by Charlie Smith sat smack in the middle of his desk’s work area, an area he purposely kept clear for projects and important papers. Charlie leaned forward to examine the envelope. He could see no stamp or metered postage on it. He saw no other markings on it at all—no address, no return address, nothing—just the notation as to who was to open it.

Dick’s playing another prank on me. I wonder what he has rigged up this time, he thought.

Charlie sat down, careful not to touch the envelope, and turned on his desktop computer. While he waited for his computer to boot up, he stared at the envelope. He had never seen an envelope like this before, medium gray in color with streaks of light gray lines running diagonally across it. Rows of dark gray spots ran across it at right angles to the lines. It looked old but new at the same time, like it was from the future but had aged.

Charlie stroked his beard. How did Dick get this in here? My office was locked. Charlie looked around his office, searching for some clue revealing how the envelope had gotten onto his desk. Photos of the most famous physicists and historical moments in physics—particularly astrophysics—covered the walls of his everything-in-its-place, orderly office. Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking, Galileo Galilei, and a blown-up image of the comet Shumaker-Levy 9 slamming into Jupiter all stared back at Charlie as he pondered the intricacies of the prank Dick had devised this time.

How would Albert handle a prankster colleague? The thought brought a smile to Charlie’s face, if but for the briefest of seconds.

Charlie was certain he had locked up Friday night, and he knew he had been the first to arrive this morning. He also knew his door had still been locked when he’d gotten here. He sat back in his chair, puzzled at how Dick had managed to get into his office. This is really odd. It has to be Dick. But he doesn’t have a key to my office. How did he get in here?

Then Charlie had a thought that sent a quick chill running down his spine: What if the envelope isn’t from Dick?

The hair on the nape of Charlie’s neck stood up. He felt a presence, as if someone were standing behind him. He pushed away from his desk, spun his chair full circle, and took a quick look around his office. No one was there. Still, he could not help but feel someone was there—hidden, watching, interested. Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest. He sat for a few seconds, eyes darting around his office; did another 360-degree swivel; and then pulled his chair back up to his desk. He sat back in his chair and took several deep breaths. His breathing returned to normal and his heart rate slowed, but the feeling persisted that an invisible presence was watching him.

Charlie did not believe in ghosts per se, but he did believe that spirits of the dead were a possibility, that science should not just summarily rule them out. Charlie had discussed this point with Dick several times, and Dick had always mocked him for it. Laughing heartily, Dick would ask how a world-renowned physicist could believe in ghosts. Charlie always defended his position, saying some day they would discover there was more to the world around them than they realized. Who knows what’s in the Higgs Field? Charlie would retort.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Charlie nearly jumped out of his chair, but it was just the coffeemaker letting him know his coffee was ready. He shook his head and laughed at himself. He realized this must be Dick’s plan, to get him paranoid about someone or something getting into his locked office. Charlie was protective of his office and very careful about who had access to it; he did not want anyone stealing his ideas or research data. He had also been working on a new final exam last Friday and had left a copy on his desk. He knew that no one had access to his office from when he locked it Friday night to when he returned Monday morning, yet somehow the envelope had appeared on his desk.

Charlie sighed as he stood up, still clutching the morning paper, and walked down the hall into the break room. Silly old man, he muttered to himself as he ambled along, irked for letting Dick get to him so easily.

Charlie Smith was anything but old. Forty-four with slightly graying hair and an ample beard—also slightly graying—he taught astrophysics, physics, and undergraduate math courses at the California Institute of Technology, or Caltech, in Southern California. His bright blue eyes could disarm even the coldest of rivals, charm the most argumentative of colleagues, and soften the most skeptical of students. They also provided a source of dreamy discussion among the girls who sat enthralled through the most exciting lectures money could buy. Other professors envied the waiting lists for Charlie’s classes and the frequent invites he received to off-campus parties. Someone even started a rumor once that two girls had fought each other for the last opening in one of his classes.

Colleagues and associates described Charlie as engaging yet distant, as if peering out of his own world but somehow materializing in the real one to interact when the occasion called for human interaction. His research focused on the study of black holes, and Charlie had his own theories about how they formed and what their characteristics were, or at least, what they should be. His recent theory—that black holes were absolutely necessary to stabilize matter and the quantum field—had stirred up a flurry of debate among his colleagues, most of whom had agreed that if the Maker of the Universe were going to reveal anything about black holes to humans, it would be to Charlie Smith.

Charlie hung his head as he entered the break room and made his way slowly down the long cream-colored counter to the coffeemaker. The low hum of the refrigerator and the drip, drip, drip of the coffeemaker sang in unison. Dirty dishes in the sink from Friday’s lunch and afternoon snacks begged for someone to wash them. Two microwaves stood ready to heat the leftovers that his coworkers would deposit in the refrigerator today. Charlie opened the utensil drawer and took out a spoon.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and set it on one of the small, round tables that filled the break room. He went to the refrigerator and took out a small carton of half-and-half that had Dick’s name scrawled in blue ink across one side. Charlie poured a generous amount into his coffee and put the carton back in the refrigerator, making sure to leave it just as he had found it. The thought of taking some of Dick’s creamer made the sadness leave Charlie’s face for a brief moment as he closed the refrigerator door. He sat down on a cold plastic chair at the table, opened his morning paper, and began to read the day’s news.

It was bad news again, more distressing than Charlie had ever seen: war here and killing there, recession worldwide. Everyone was in trouble financially, and no one had any solutions. The leaders spent their time arguing and bickering over the best course of action, but no one stood out with a plan that would actually correct the problems.

America was in more turmoil than it had ever faced before; with America leaking away rights and drowning in debt, the world had little hope of an enduring freedom. It seemed everyone was angry; everyone was fighting mad. Everyone wanted change but disagreed on who should make the change, or how the change should occur, or what the change should be. To make matters worse, the states and cities had begun to bicker among themselves. It seemed America was anything but united. Charlie hung his head and sighed again, his blue eyes bluer with a heavy heart. He sipped his coffee and felt its warmth tickle his tongue and throat.

Is there no good news anywhere on the planet? he asked himself quietly. Would 2012 really be the end?

Charlie turned the page and read the first line of the top article. A leader in Los Angeles was urging people to boycott Arizona.

Charlie feared for the future of the world, the future of his children. His research brought him satisfaction, but he often questioned whether it really mattered. He wanted to do more, to find a way to make the world a better place for his posterity, but he could not see how his research into black holes would have that kind of effect on the future. Still, he loved what he did and felt it was important; somehow, it had to matter, didn’t it? Science had improved mankind’s standard of living and extended life, and maybe, if given enough time, he could do the same. But the way things were going, time would be in short supply. It seemed mankind was about to exterminate itself. He wanted to throw the paper in the trash, but he knew others would want to read it.

Charlie’s thoughts wandered back to his office. What was that mysterious envelope and where had it come from? What kind of prank had Dick cooked up this time? Charlie picked up his mug and took a long, slow sip of the cream-laden coffee. He sighed again and set his empty cup on the table. He leaned back against the cold plastic chair and closed his eyes, imagining what a better world might look like. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

What’s the use? he asked quietly.

Leaving the paper on the table, Charlie stood up and walked to the coffee maker for a second cup. He refilled his coffee, doused it with half-and-half, and walked back down the hall to his office. As he stepped through his doorway, he stopped short. Something was different. The envelope still sat on his desk and dared him to open it, but it had moved while he had been in the break room, not much, a little to the right, and an eighth of a turn to the left. He stared at it.

Impossible, he thought. That’s not possible.

Yet he knew it was not in the same position it had been in when he left his office to go to the break room. A shiver ran down his spine, and again he had the feeling someone was watching him. Dick’s got to be around here somewhere. Charlie looked back down the hall, but it was deserted. He crossed the floor to his desk and sat down, watching the envelope warily as he did so. He set his coffee down and entered his password into the computer. Finally, Charlie decided to pick up the envelope. He turned it from side to side. It felt unusually cold to the touch.

That’s really odd, he thought to himself.

He examined the edges and the sealed end. He did not see any opening to peer into. What a puzzle. No one had threatened his life that he knew of, yet Charlie was hesitant to open this envelope. Recently he had been invited to work on a top-secret government project, but from what he knew about it, no one would threaten him over that. He lifted his left hand to his head and scratched his ear. This just didn’t seem like one of Dick’s pranks. Charlie smiled. In a way, this envelope provided a welcome distraction from the troubles weighing on his mind; it was a puzzle to figure out, a problem to solve. Yet, with all its intrigue, he could do without the eeriness of it all and the feeling of being watched. That was difficult to generate, unless someone really was watching; a sobering thought.

Maybe I should wait for security to examine it first, he whispered to the hidden presence. Charlie laid the envelope on the corner of his desk and stared at it again. This is silly, he muttered. A grown man afraid of a little envelope. He tried to relax into his large leather office chair, but the feeling of being watched still lingered. He started to close his eyes, daring whoever was watching to appear. Suddenly a message appeared on his computer screen.

OPEN THE ENVELOPE CHARLIE.

Chapter 2

Weirdness Squared

May 10, 2010

Charlie Smith’s Office

Charlie’s eyes widened as his body jolted upright. He read the message on his screen again and felt a crawling sensation running up his spine to the base of his head. He tried to swallow, but he had no saliva. He stared at the envelope again, his heart beating against his ribs. He gripped his desk with his right hand. This was weird, really weird. Charlie sat frozen in his chair, his eyes fixed on the envelope, and then he heard a woman’s voice.

Good morning, Charlie.

Charlie nearly jumped out of his chair. Instantly, he spun it around to face the door. In his doorway stood Gwen Wilson, a close friend and colleague who taught physics at Caltech.

Oh, holy cow, Gwen! Don’t sneak up on a man like that. You scared me half to death.

Gwen gave him a quizzical look and laughed. Someone’s a little tense this morning, she said. Worried about ghosts in the quantum field again are we?

Charlie swung his chair back around and pulled it up to his desk. His face flushed red and his jaw clenched as he tried to calm his anger, anger at being so afraid of a stupid envelope, anger at convincing himself some unseen presence was in the room with him, anger at the world for being so messed up. I’m gonna kill Dick when he gets here, he thought. He took a deep breath, and then another.

You’re here early this morning, he said over his shoulder, trying to hide his nerves. It’s not like you to show up at the office this time of day, especially on a Monday. What brings you in so early today?

Smiling, Gwen stepped to Charlie’s side, put her hand on the back of his chair, and swung it around, bringing him face to face with her. She was not known for being timid.

Last night’s films, she replied with an excited smile.

What?

Last night’s films, or more accurately, the ones taken over the weekend. Aren’t you excited to study the films?

Charlie still looked puzzled.

Last night’s films, she hesitated, from the telescope. You know, the endless search for the evidence to confirm your theory about black holes stabilizing the universe. We don’t get a lot of telescope time. We’d better make the best of it, she said.

Gwen Wilson never came to the office this early, but this morning something woke her before her alarm clock had gone off. She tossed and turned, nagged by a feeling she needed to get to work. After a few failed minutes of trying to go back to sleep, she decided to get up and come in early. Gwen was one of those punctual people, always at work at seven-thirty sharp, always there when you needed her, always the one to volunteer for projects, always cheery and pleasant. Her voice could boom across an auditorium without needing a microphone. Her colleagues described her as headstrong, with a touch of obnoxious. You had to be, if you were going to make a name in the scientific world, and Gwen Wilson had her heart set on making a name for herself. She held degrees in chemistry, physics, and astronomy, and she was not shy about it.

She could hold her own in a debate with the best scientists on the planet; a Nobel Prize would be hers someday. Everyone who knew her knew that. She always dressed like she was going to Europe to give her acceptance speech, yet she was as personable as anyone could be. She could make the lowliest lab assistant feel like her equal, yet bring the haughtiest colleague to cowering humility. Her warm demeanor made everyone feel at home.

Oh, and she was also eight months pregnant.

She stared into Charlie’s eyes and waited for an answer. He had been so engrossed with the envelope that he had forgotten all about the films waiting for study. Now he sat wondering why he had not heard her come in; the outside door made a metal grating sound every time someone opened it.

Oh . . . uh . . . yes, I’m excited. I think today is going to change history. I have a feeling, Charlie said, as he put one hand over the envelope and tried to push it aside.

What’s that? Gwen asked.

Um, I’m not sure. It was here when I got here.

Charlie’s efforts to hide the envelope were too little, too late. Gwen chuckled as she reached for the edge of the gray envelope. Charlie pushed her hand away, exposing the writing on the envelope. She reached for it again, but Charlie held it down. She giggled and pulled her hand back.

Are you going to let me see it or not? she asked, playfully cuffing him upside the head.

I’m not sure. It says it’s for me.

Oh, I’m sorry Charlie, if it’s personal, I . . . Gwen’s voice trailed off.

There was a short silence then Gwen turned to leave, but Charlie grabbed her hand.

Gwen, stay. This envelope is weird, that’s all.

What do you mean, weird? Wait a minute, is this the reason you were so jumpy? Why are you so worked up over an envelope?

Charlie looked at the floor. I just didn’t expect it to be here. I locked my office Friday when I left, and it was still locked when I got here this morning. When I unlocked my door and came in, I found this envelope sitting on my desk.

What about your TAs? Gwen asked.

No. I don’t give them keys. They come during office hours, said Charlie, shaking his head. I don’t know how someone got in here to put it on my desk this weekend. And it looks so . . . unusual.

Gwen pursed her lips together, "Hmmm, that is odd. How would . . . wait, have you considered it might be Dick?"

I have, but he doesn’t have a key. If it is Dick, he’s gone to a lot of trouble this time to pull a prank on me.

All the more reason to open it, Gwen said, intrigued.

Charlie smiled up at her. I’m not sure it’s a good idea . . . he said, his voice trailing off.

Come on, Mr. Smith. Let’s see what’s inside. It’s just an envelope after all. What could go wrong?

Gwen made a quick grab for it, but Charlie intercepted her hand and held it. She got a playful smile on her face as she relaxed her hand. Charlie chuckled and released his grip. He knew there was no stopping Gwen once her mind was made up, and she was determined to see that envelope. Whatever waited inside, he and Gwen would find out together. He handed her the envelope. She held it up to the light, trying to see what might be inside.

The paper feels cold. Has this been in the freezer? This is really strange, Gwen said, inspecting the envelope. I’ve never seen paper like this. She picked up a letter opener from off Charlie’s desk and started to poke at the envelope.

Wait! Charlie exclaimed. What if it’s booby trapped? It says only I can open it.

Gwen stopped poking at once, set the envelope down, and took a step back. It was only then that she noticed Charlie’s computer screen.

What the . . . she said slowly, reading the message displayed on his screen. She began to imitate The Twilight Zone theme, Na-na Na-na, Na-na Na-na.

Not funny, Charlie insisted.

The two looked at each other for a moment, both considering the consequences of opening such a weird envelope, delivered who knows how, by who knows whom, with a computer message from who knows where ordering Charlie to open it.

Finally, Gwen spoke, "We have to open it."

Charlie looked around the room again. He could not shake the feeling that someone else was in the room watching, waiting, interested in what he and Gwen were doing. Another chill started at the nape of his neck and ran all the way down his spine to the end of his tailbone.

Come on, Charlie. We’ll be careful. We have to open it, Gwen said again, picking up the envelope and handing it to Charlie.

Charlie started to shake his head, but then slowly nodded. Well, I suppose if we’re careful, it’s okay, he agreed, and picked up the letter opener.

He inserted the letter opener into the edge of the envelope, but it would not cut the paper, or whatever the envelope was made from.

"Something is either very wrong with this or we have slipped into The Twilight Zone," he said.

Gwen laughed, then turned around and dashed away from Charlie’s desk, disappearing down the hall. She returned with a pocket knife, pulled out the blade, and handed the knife to Charlie. Then Gwen slowly took a long step back as if she expected the envelope to puff out something evil when opened.

It says you have to do the honors, she said.

He looked at her like a condemned man might look at the spectators who had come to the prison to watch his execution. Charlie hesitated, fiddling with Gwen’s knife. I’m not sure which is more frightening, this envelope or that you have a pocket knife in your desk.

Gwen cocked her head to one side. The envelope is, believe me, she said. And I have the knife because the letter openers around here can’t cut through softened butter.

Charlie chuckled and turned his attention to the envelope. He slipped the knife into the corner of the envelope and started to pull. The blade hesitated but finally slipped through the envelope and cut it open along the sealed edge. Charlie slowly separated the open edges and peered inside.

It’s just papers, he said.

Charlie carefully pulled a thick stack of papers out of the envelope. It appeared to be a rather lengthy letter. The paper also felt cold to the touch and was similar to the material that made up the envelope. Charlie set the pages of the letter on his desk and began to read.

Wait a minute, Gwen said. She left the room and returned with her own rolling chair, which she pulled up beside him. He smiled and both started to read.

Chapter 3

The Letter

May 10, 2010

Charlie Smith’s Office

Dear Great-Grandfather Smith,

My name is not important, but I am your descendant. The year is 2115, and I am writing to you regarding the future of mankind. I left this on your desk where you should find it on the morning of May 10 in the year 2010. I know you are 44 years old and struggling in a world that seems doomed to destruction. I will not sugarcoat the future for you. Hard times do lie ahead. However, good times will eventually prevail.

I have read your journals and want to thank you for documenting your life and changing mine for the better. From your writings, I learned how to stand up and fight when lesser men would cower into obscurity. For that I am indebted to you. I have looked for your intelligence unit in the Higgs Field, but unsuccessfully.

I have written this letter to you to offer you some hope. You must not share it with anyone or make it public. The consequences of any such attempt would be the branding of you as mentally unstable and could negate your life’s work.

Charlie stopped reading and looked at Gwen. He started to speak, but she cut him off.

Hey, it’s a little late for that, she said. I’m already reading this, and I know you’re not crazy. Please let me keep reading. A witness might be useful later on.

Charlie thought for a moment. Okay. But you know this is probably just Dick messing with me again.

Could be, but he went to an awful lot of trouble this time with hacking into your computer, and just look at this paper. What if it isn’t Dick?

Then we might both be branded as lunatics.

I’ll take that chance, she answered. A letter from the future. This is fascinating.

They continued reading.

I want you to know that you and your family are going to be all right. I also want you to get a glimpse of my time and know that the future is very bright. I know you are concerned about the future of freedom. Today we live in a world of freedom. We know more today about the universe around us, including science, history, sociality, and peace, than we have ever known. Let me tell you a little about the world I live in and some of its advances.

THE HOLOGRAPHIC NATURE OF THE UNIVERSE

The universe consists of a quantum and electromagnetic wave interference field that we call the Higgs Quantum Fluctuating Electromagnetic Field, or the Higgs Field, or sometimes just the Field. This Field exists everywhere in the universe and contains all the information in the universe. It is a life-energy-particle field. We used to say the Higgs Field had wave-particle duality. Today we describe the Field as having life-wave-particle triality, and because the universe is holographic, all of the information in the universe exists everywhere in the universe.

Teleportation is possible, not in the sense of moving an object or person from one point to another, but in the sense of accessing information that already exists in the receiving location and creating the object from the life, energy, and particles that are already there. Anything or anyone that exists here can be created from the Field there, at the receiving location, without actually physically moving anything, not even the information. Everything already exists in the Field in the receiving location, including the information.

As a quirky aside, because the universe is holographic as to time too, if you want something delivered yesterday, you can get it.

Gwen turned to Charlie. You know, I always suspected that.

Charlie stroked his beard. Me too, and the new stuff they’re doing with particle entanglement looks like they’re going to prove it. This is amazing.

Gwen cocked her head to one side. You realize what you just said?

What? asked Charlie.

You said, ‘looks like they’re going to prove it.’ You think that this letter really is from the future, said Gwen.

Charlie’s eyes widened. Humph, I guess I did. Amazing.

Gwen smiled as she turned back to the letter.

THE PERSONAL COMPUTER

Today, personal computers or, as we call them, Cs, can access and read brain waves and patterns. One of our Cs would look like one of your credit cards. Any C can tune itself to a person’s mind simply by coming within two meters of the person and receiving the person’s command to tune. Once the C is tuned to a person’s mind, only that person can release the C to tune to another person’s mind or grant access to it. The owner can command the C by thought or by voice. The C provides learning for us and our children, and can download information directly from the Field to the human brain at astonishing speeds.

The C handles all communication, information, and entertainment needs and draws energy from the Higgs Field for accomplishing its tasks. When the owner receives an incoming C call from another person, the C relays it directly to the owner’s brain. If the owner wishes to see who he is talking to, he instructs the C to visual and the person he is having the conversation with appears before his eyes, as a hallucination. The C can also create the image as a floating hologram or as a flat image on any surface if the owner so instructs it.

If the owner wishes to listen to music, he chooses the song, and the C plays it into his head as loud or as soft as he wants. The C creates the signal that the brain translates as actually hearing the song, and if the owner wants, actually seeing the live band in a performance. The same is true of movies, video, or any other medium. The C can place its owner in the front row of a concert or in the middle of a movie by creating a powerful hallucination. The C can also materialize from the Field any kind of entertainment the owner’s heart desires.

The C can manipulate the Higgs Field, change matter into energy and send it harmlessly into the Field, and materialize things from the Field. Say I want a different dinette set in my kitchen today. I can merge with my C, access the Higgs Field, dematerialize the set that is there, and then materialize the one I want; or I can program my C to provide a different set each day without me having to merge with it.

Charlie stopped reading and looked over at Gwen. I want one of those. Can you imagine?

Me too, said Gwen. I would love having different furniture every week. And imagine how convenient it would be for raising kids: new furniture, new clothes, new entertainment in an instant! And I could have a different pair of shoes every day.

You already do, said Charlie, as he turned back to the letter. Gwen slugged him playfully on the arm and started reading too.

YOU WILL KNOW JACK

Thank God for Tracy Jack Wilson, three-time winner of the Nobel Prize: once for his advances in curved astrophysics, another for his creations in evolutionary cosmology and nonlinear thinking, and finally, the one he is most proud of, his work in thought cosmology and his theory that the mind is linked to and can control the Higgs Field. You have not met him yet, but you will.

Gwen suddenly drew a quick breath.

Tracy Wilson, she whispered.

Charlie stopped reading and looked over at her.

What? he asked.

For a brief moment she could not speak. Charlie had never seen Gwen at a loss for words. She hesitated, then slowly started talking. Charlie, I’m going to name my baby Tracy, whether it’s a boy or a girl. I haven’t told anyone that. You don’t suppose this letter really could be from the future? That’s impossible . . . Her voice trailed off into silent thought.

Charlie stared into her eyes and saw something mixed between wonder and excitement. This just keeps getting weirder, he stated. If this Tracy is your son, he’ll have an excellent teacher in you.

And an excellent mentor in you, Gwen finished.

And he can come over and play with my kids anytime, Charlie added. They stared at the letter, unsure of what it was they were really reading, for the first time seriously considering that this strange letter might actually be from the future. They sat in awe at the mysteries it seemed to reveal.

It was Jack who discovered, almost by accident, that our universe is in fact holographic, not just as to space, but as to time as well. It was he who first postulated that our minds were connected to and a part of the Higgs Quantum Fluctuating Electromagnetic Wave Interference Field. It was he who first theorized that our subconscious minds were in constant contact with the Field, and that our conscious minds could access the Field directly by bringing certain parts of the subconscious mind to consciousness. He discovered that direct access to the Field could be used to manipulate the energy and matter within it, and he conducted the first experiments connecting human thought to the Field. He made possible learning by accessing the information in the Field directly with one’s own mind. He made possible travel by thought, something we take for granted now. He made harnessing the infinite energy contained in the electromagnetic Field in empty space possible.

It was Jack Wilson who discovered that life is a unique unit of energy, and that even after death this life unit is self aware, has form, and exists independently within the Field. His experiments in Individual Field Energies showed that this life energy has intelligence, can communicate, and has mobility within the Field. We now refer to this as an Intelligence Unit, or IU. His insight and careful reasoning pioneered the way for others to make great strides forward in the science of immortality.

Scientists are working today on uniting each IU with a durable body that can live forever. Within the next century, we fully expect to make that possible for all that have ever lived.

Jack Wilson was light years ahead of his time. He refused to believe that anything was impossible. It seems almost comical now to realize that he made his scientific debut as an undergrad at MIT by connecting the double slit light experiment to the legend of the Philadelphia Experiment.

As he sat pondering why light, sent one photon at a time through a double slit, would still end up creating a wave interference pattern on the receiving screen just as if an entire light beam were shined through the double slit, he wondered if the individual photons might not be interacting with the Higgs Field, which existed within the experiment (This fact has since been proven by the team of Dabbins and Sparks in 2035).

Even though the experiment was always conducted in a vacuum, it was never conducted without the Higgs Field being present. As he thought about what would happen if the Field were removed, he realized that removing the Field would require powerful magnetic forces to create a hole in the Field and keep the Field out of the experiment. He also theorized that if he made a hole in the Field, the photon of light would also not be able to enter the hole from the outside. The entire experiment would have to be conducted within the hole. He further theorized that any matter trapped in the hole would be removed from our reality, ripped apart atom by atom, and turned into energy.

As Jack pondered on this, he thought of the legend of the Philadelphia Experiment, which attempted to make a World War II battleship invisible by using a magnetic field to bend light waves around the ship. Many believed this story was just a hoax made up by imaginative sailors in the 1940’s with too much time on their hands. Jack, however, believed the experiment did in fact take place, and that when the scientists of the 1940’s turned on the electromagnets, the ship really did disappear.

However, it did not just disappear; it was momentarily removed from existence in our reality. They had torn a hole in the Higgs Field the size of the ship. Modern theory holds that the ship’s matter would have immediately turned into energy and been held captive in the hole by the magnetic forces that were bending light around it. To be blunt, the ship and everything and everyone on it dematerialized. And, of course, the stories of sailors having re-materialized in bulkheads and decks and dying horrible deaths persisted for many years.

Scientists today have located the event in the Higgs Field and know that the experiment did take place, but do not know what happened inside the hole. The record is blank there because the Higgs Field did not exist inside the hole. No one has yet figured out what happens in such a hole, but we know the end result, and it was not pretty. Scientists who have followed Jack Wilson’s work theorize that removing the Higgs Field from a part of space opens a door to other dimensions and allows for the flow of energy and particles and time and intelligences between the dimensions.

It is no wonder that Jack Wilson is referred to as the Einstein of the twenty-first century.

Charlie felt a shiver run down his spine. There was that feeling again. Someone was watching him. He turned to Gwen.

Did you feel that? he asked, before he could take a moment to think about his question.

Feel what? she said, her concentration interrupted, her blue eyes quizzical.

Nothing, Charlie replied, having had a second to think about what he was saying. He stroked his bearded chin with one hand.

Actually, it’s odd, but I have been getting a sense that we’re being watched. It’s a little unnerving, Gwen said. If this is Dick playing a prank, I’m going to kill him.

Charlie laughed. "If it is Dick, he’s got a good one going. I’m starting to believe this letter really is from the future."

Me too, Gwen said, as she returned to reading. Me too.

TRAVEL BY THOUGHT

A human being in our scientific terms consists of one intelligence unit, matter, and energy, and is essentially just a bunch of life and chemical information, information that therefore exists everywhere in the universe. In the 2040’s scientists began experimenting with teleportation, using machines and computers to jump inanimate objects from one location to another. The experiments on non-living matter were successful, however, the same attempts on live subjects were failing miserably. The computer could not dematerialize them.

The problem was getting the computer to recognize and keep up with the changing patterns of the IU. Because the mind is constantly changing thoughts and emotions, the computer always lagged behind by forty-one nanoseconds, making recognition and control impossible. We have since overcome this problem, and a C can now access the Higgs Field and merge with the human mind for travel by thought, but back in the 2040s no one believed it would be possible, and experiments were proving them right.

Jack Wilson, however, refused to accept defeat. He reasoned correctly that a mind or IU would be able to control its own energy signature, its own fluctuating patterns, as it accessed the Field. There would be no lag time. Travel by thought would have to be done without a computer.

After days of trying with computers, scientists were on the verge of giving up. Jack, a clairvoyant himself, jumped up onto the pad and said, Turn the thing off. He accessed the Field with his mind and stood there motionless for a while; his colleagues watched as he seemed to go into a trance. A few minutes after the machines had powered down, Jack began to glow; a second later there was a flash of light and he disappeared. He just vanished into thin air.

A room full of scientists sat astounded. Even though everyone in the room had been able to access the Field with their minds for learning and other things, none had dared suggest that an attempt be made to use the mind to travel. After a few minutes, they began to think they had lost Jack, but about ten minutes later the area where Jack had vanished from began to grow bright. There was another flash of light and Jack reappeared.

He explained that he had just been to Dan’s Deli in New York, three thousand miles away, and had ordered a sandwich: pastrami on rye.