Grave New World: A Crack in the Hourglass of Time

By ken sheffer

It began as Global Warming, and then worsened to become known in the 22nd century as the Horrific Decline. Unless something drastic was done, the human race faced certain extinction. But because it had already progressed beyond the point of no return, nothing could be done to avert that fate unless they could somehow make changes to the past.

Part science-fantasy and part romance, both serious and fun, Grave New World takes you on a new kind of adventure with intense and surprising turns. It is fiction to be enjoyed.

We humans are the only species capable of bringing about our own extinction, and the only species so inclined. I wrote Grave New World to help raise the public consciousness about the perils of human impact on our environment, and to underscore our responsibilities for keeping this extraordinary planet a place where life can flourish.
ken sheffer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 26, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462818631

Book preview

Grave New World

A CRACK IN THE HOURGLASS OF TIME

a novel

by

ken sheffer

Copyright © 2009 by ken sheffer (Kenneth Robert Sheffer)

All rights reserved. No part of this book in any form, including electronic, mechanical, magnetic, and photographic media, shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any of those same means, including photocopying, sound recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

Grave New World is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

61662

Contents

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

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Epilogue

Acknowledgements

There are some people I wish to thank for their tenacious help and solid encouragement in producing the novel Grave New World. Most important, the editing was by the absolute best, most uncompromising professional editor I have ever known, my wife Saundra Sheffer. Her relentless burnishing and insistence on form was a lesson in humility for me, but the quality of the end result was definitely worth all the pain and hard work.

The manuscript was also scrutinized in early raw form by two highly qualified friends whom I could trust to provide expert critiques and recommendations: Judie Rae, a college literature teacher, and her husband, my enduring friend Will Connell, whose name coincidentally happens to be that of one of the characters in this book. I must also mention, with gratitude, four others who helped by beta-testing the manuscript and providing valuable reader feedback: art impresario Sandy Taylor, my nephew David P. Herman, his sister and my niece Leslie Herman, and a former professional colleague from my computer days, Katie Gruner, all of whom are very thoughtful, and whom I count as good friends. The story that follows is truly the joint product of the eight of us.

Grave New World is dedicated to the memory of Robert S. Barton, an extraordinary intellect whose acclaimed ideas led to significant advancements in computer system design. A truly great friend who expressed much interest in this book while it was being written, Bob died before its publication. An immortal in my mind, he will be missed.

Prologue

Through pale ice,

crystalline rays etch a dream.

Long, thin threads

of forgotten memories

reach

but do not touch

frozen shadows.

Embraced by unknown spaces,

these fragments of being are seen alone,

unmoving,

fading…

But when touched by a song,

chilly distance dissolves in light,

and all belongs to now.

1

Savior of the world

August 16, 2029, 8:15 a.m. — Washington, D.C.

Multitudes—including dignitaries from around the world—were gathering on the Mall to celebrate his ninetieth birthday. The president of the United States had promised that it would be the biggest birthday bash ever. Darwin Niles Averman would soon be officially recognized as Savior of the World.

A rather grand, even silly, title, Darwin thought. After all, no man or woman could save the world single-handedly. For months, he had resisted accepting the label, but he finally capitulated—for two reasons. For one thing, he wanted to acknowledge the people of the world for what they had accomplished. The other reason was that today’s celebration would give him the opportunity to tell the world who really deserved the credit for saving the planet. Until today, Darwin was the only person who knew. Today, he would tell them.

It was true; Darwin had been instrumental in averting the virtual extinction of the human race. He was regarded around the world as a great hero, perhaps the greatest in all of history, but today his thoughts were elsewhere. He was preoccupied with one regrettable loss that his best efforts had failed to prevent.

He had tried to look at it as collateral damage, brought about by what had to be done—by what he had to do—and therefore a justifiable sacrifice for the greater good. But the loss was so profound that Darwin had been unable to shake free of it in more than thirty years since the disappearance.

Disappearance? Not the right word. When someone suddenly ceases ever to have existed, what can it be called? Expunged? Erased? Excised? None of those words accurately conveyed what had happened.

Dressed and waiting to be escorted to the ceremonies, Darwin stood at the window of his guest-quarters, gazing down absently at the crowds of well-wishers below. Now beyond sadness, he was resigned to what he had been powerless to prevent… except for one persistent doubt: There might have been another way.

Though it was too late now, he replayed events over and over again in his mind, still searching for what he might have done differently, as if finding the answer would somehow turn back time and make everything come out right. He thought back to the day he had received that first enigmatic message on his computer terminal. That had been in 1969. He had had no idea that it would turn out to be the single most important message in the history of the world… and he had nearly ignored it.

2

Networking

December 15, 1969, 8:16 a.m. — Advanced Research Projects Agency, Cupertino, California

Hello, Mr. Averman. Are you there?

That was how the message began.

I must communicate with you concerning a matter of utmost importance. Please acknowledge by reply that you have received this message. — SAM

That was all. There was no clue as to who SAM was or what the message was about. Utmost importance? He frowned at the message on his terminal screen. It had come in over the innovative person-to-person messaging system which Darwin himself had created for developers of the ARPANET to use to communicate with one another. It was the first of its kind. No one he knew used SAM as a name, nickname, initials or an acronym, and the message was a peculiar one. And no one using the ARPANET would address him as Mr. Averman. They all used nicknames.

For his own nickname, Darwin used his initials: DNA. That his initials also happened to be the same as the now-famous term for the genetic material that makes up the chromosomes of living organisms was just a coincidence. At the time of his birth no one knew anything about DNA, which stands for deoxyribonucleic acid, the so-called blueprint for life. Darwin and Niles were the names of uncles.

Darwin had two choices: reply to SAM, or ignore the message. Darwin decided to ignore it. He even forgot about it.

December 16, 1969, 8:16 a.m. — ARPA, Cupertino, California

The next day, a second message from SAM appeared on Darwin’s terminal screen.

Darwin Niles Averman, are you there? It is imperative that we make contact. If you are Norwood and Maybelle Averman’s son, born August 16, 1939 in Birdwell, Nebraska, it is, I repeat, of utmost importance that we communicate. As yet, I don’t know whether you are receiving my messages. Please do me the courtesy of a reply. — SAM

That got Darwin’s attention. How did this correspondent, apparently an interloper on the ARPANET, know his parents’ first names? None of his co-workers would know those details. Someone in Personnel, perhaps, but not likely. They didn’t have access to the network. He considered turning the matter over to Security, but he was curious about what might be of utmost importance.

Darwin considered broadcasting a message to all the legitimate ARPANET users to ask if anyone knew who SAM was, but he immediately discarded the notion. Such a question, he realized, would only invite annoying attempts at humor and messages from a host of imitators posing as SAM for their own amusement.

Darwin typed out a terse message to SAM:

I am here. Who are you? — DNA

3

Sam, I am

The reply was immediate. Words marched across his terminal screen:

My friends call me Sam, and I am counting on you to be a friend.

I am greatly relieved to receive your reply. Please bear with me for now. I admit that I am an unauthorized user of the ARPANET, but there is no cause for alarm. My purpose is strictly altruistic, and I will contact no one but you. I promise that my intentions will soon be clear to

you.

I will explain further, but we must first take a few small but important steps toward becoming acquainted. Then we will discuss the matter of utmost importance to which I referred in my first two messages.

How very odd. Darwin again considered contacting Security, but then more words marched onto the screen.

The first step will be to establish my credibility. I will give you some items of information which you could not possibly know. Once you have verified that they are true, we will take the next step.

You will be able to verify the following.

1. The football game between the Los Angeles Rams and the San Francisco 49ers on Sunday, December 21, will end with the 49ers winning by a score of 21 to 20. The winning score will be made by the 49ers in the final nine seconds with a pass into the end-zone from back-up quarterback Steve Stimson to tailback Oliver Rowson.

This will happen after a Rams fumble is recovered by 49ers defensive back Kevin Patterson.

2. Immediately following the game, Rowson will surprise the sports world by announcing his retirement.

3. The Dow-Jones Industrial Average will close tomorrow, December 17, 1969, at 769.93. In January, you will learn that it was the low for the year.

After a slight pause, more words came up on the screen.

4. The Dow will end its decline in the second quarter of next year at 627.46. The stock market will then begin a recovery that will last until January 1973. It won’t be until then that you can verify this last point, but next year will be an excellent time to invest in the market. You might find that information useful.

I will be in touch with you again on Monday. Enjoy the

game.

Regards, SAM

This is strange, Darwin thought. He wondered if others on the network had received the same message. It had to be some kind of prank. He made a few discreet inquiries among his co-workers, but no one else had received any peculiar messages. Darwin decided not to involve Security before learning more. No hurry. The messages did not appear to pose an immediate threat.

On Thursday Darwin was so busy debugging a software routine, trying to beat a project deadline, that he almost forgot to check the stock market report. He opened the morning paper to the financial page, and sure enough, the Dow had closed Wednesday at exactly 769.93, just as Sam had predicted on Tuesday. He had never had much interest in the stock market, but he was impressed by the precision of Sam’s prediction. He also recognized the value of such information to a serious investor—if it were consistently reliable. But how could this person who called himself Sam possibly know the details of things that hadn’t happened yet? You don’t just declare the Dow will close at an exact number like that, and have it turn out to be a lucky guess. There had to be an explanation.

His curiosity aroused, Darwin made plans to watch the Rams-49ers game on Sunday. He didn’t have a TV, so he arranged to watch the game with his friend Garth Stewart.

December 21, 1969, 4:29 p.m. — Garth Stewart’s apartment, Cupertino, California

In the last twelve seconds of the game, the San Francisco 49ers trailed the Rams 14 to 20. The Rams had the ball, and people were leaving the stadium.

The 49ers haven’t got a chance, now, Garth said. He looked glum. Garth was a staunch 49ers fan, and he had a $20 bet riding on a San Francisco victory.

I wouldn’t be so sure, Darwin said. He hadn’t told Garth or anyone else about Sam’s stock market prediction or the prediction of the 49ers’ win. He did not want to invite questions before he knew what he was dealing with. But the accuracy of the stock market prediction had almost made a believer of Darwin. He was beginning to feel a little more daring.

Just watch, Darwin said. The Rams will fumble and the 49ers will recover.

Ain’t gonna happen, Garth said opening another can of beer. No way!

But it did happen. On their next play, the Rams quarterback fumbled the ball and Kevin Patterson recovered it on the Rams’ thirty-four yard line, exactly as Sam had said.

Garth sat straight up and yelled, No way! His mouth hung open in disbelief. Then he looked at Darwin, his expression changing to one of mystification. How did you do that? How did you know they would fumble? Lucky guess, huh?

Darwin hid the fact that he was just as surprised. He merely shrugged. I just think the 49ers will win, and I figured that they needed a fumble to do it, he lied. He was feeling more than a little mystified himself.

An official time-out was called for the change of possession. Nine seconds remained on the scoreboard clock. In the background, the announcer’s voice was saying, They’re barely in field goal range, and with only nine seconds left on the clock they’ll need to score more than three points to win.

Man, Garth exclaimed, talk about a lucky guess!

Yup, just a lucky guess. Then Darwin decided to venture another prediction. Now I’m guessing the 49ers will complete a pass into the end zone to tie the game.

Darwin was careful not to say it would happen, only that it might. He was sorely tempted to amaze Garth by telling him in detail what would happen on the next play, but he realized that if it actually happened that way, he wouldn’t be able to give a satisfactory explanation of how he knew. So he kept his mouth shut and watched.

Garth stared hard at Darwin. He saw this as his chance to cancel the outcome of his bet, which he still expected to lose.

You really think the 49ers are gonna take this game? Garth asked. Well, I got twenty bucks that says they won’t. Their only chance is to make it in one play. At that distance it’s gotta be a pass, and Stallworth hasn’t completed a pass in the second half all season. Here’s my twenty, he said, thrusting a couple of tens at Darwin.

I think I’ll ‘pass’ on your bet, Darwin answered. I have to agree; it’s too much of a long shot.

Darwin still wasn’t ready to believe Sam’s predictions. In fact, he found himself hoping that Sam would be wrong. He wasn’t sure how he would explain it to himself if it turned out that Sam was right.

The game clock was running again, and the announcer’s voice rose with excitement as he reported that Stallworth had just been replaced at quarterback for what was sure to be the last play of the game.

They’re sending in Steve Stimson, who has seen very little action this season. What are they thinking? the announcer exclaimed incredulously.

Darwin sat up straight and caught his breath. Stimson! he thought. He felt strangely giddy. Darwin was usually somewhat indifferent about professional football games, but now he leaned forward in his chair, his attention riveted on the TV screen with uncharacteristic intensity.

Stimson crouched behind his center, called out his signals and took the snap. The two ends ran a criss-cross pattern into the end zone while the tailback went straight up the middle. Darwin and Garth rose out of their chairs as the Rams’ defensive blitz pursued Stimson in the backfield. Stimson pumped his arm twice to pass, but then had to run out of the pocket to escape three Rams defenders in hot pursuit.

Throw the goddam ball, dammit!! Garth yelled.

Darwin was silent, transfixed. The play was unfolding exactly as Sam had described it.

Stimson reversed his field and then sprinted forward, stopping just short of the line of scrimmage. He threw the ball with all his strength, releasing it just as he was flattened by his pursuers. It was a Hail Mary pass, and Stimson, buried beneath Rams defenders, didn’t even see where the ball went.

The ball traced a high, wobbly arc. Fans in the stadium were on their feet screaming, Rowson! Rowson! Rowson! The unexpected receiver pattern had caught the defense flatfooted in the secondary, and Oliver Rowson was streaking toward the goal line, straining to catch up with the descending ball, which was about to drop just short of the goal line and just beyond Rowson’s outstretched arms. The picture switched to a closeup of Rowson just in time to show him make a diving catch and slide on his belly into the end zone with his fingers gripping the ball. The referee on the goal line thrust his arms straight up. Touchdown! The announcer screamed, "And it’s a tied game with no time left on the

clock!"

The cheering crowd went silent as the special teams unit lined up for the extra-point conversion. Garth and Darwin held their breath. The ball was snapped, the holder placed it for the kicker, and just as the Rams’ defense penetrated the line, the ball was kicked. The ball cleared the crossbar. The cheering resumed, and there was pandemonium in the

stands.

Garth pounded Darwin on the back, screaming, We won! We won! We won! I can’t believe it. We won!

I can’t either! Darwin breathed, but he was not thinking about the 49ers winning the game. His hands were trembling. I just can’t understand it!

While Garth celebrated, Darwin heard Oliver Rowson announce his retirement while being interviewed on the field. I’ll be forty next month, he said. This is a good way for me to leave the game.

December 21, 1969, 8:16 p.m. — ARPA, Cupertino, California

It had been several hours since the football game ended, but Darwin was excited. With butterflies in his stomach, he went to his office that night without eating dinner. He decided not to wait until Monday. He sent Sam a message.

Sam, you have my attention. That was either a very neat trick, or you can predict the future. Which is it? — DNA

Darwin waited impatiently for a response. After about thirty minutes, he was about to shut down and go home when a new message crawled across his screen.

Mr. Averman, that was not a trick, nor can I predict the future. But I do have specific knowledge about things that haven’t happened yet, but will. I know these things because, for me, they have already happened. They are in my past. By knowing what has happened in MY past, you might say that I can predict YOUR future.

There was a pause, then more words:

I live in the 22nd century. I am writing to you from the year 2104. For you, that is the future, but it is my present. You live in what to me is the past. Think about that. Then ask me how it is possible for us to communicate. Cheers, SAM.

4

Getting together

Darwin frowned. How is it possible, he wondered, for someone in the future to communicate with me over the ARPANET? He stared at his blank terminal screen as though it might somehow hold the answer. It isn’t possible, he concluded, the future hasn’t happened yet. On the other hand, how could anyone in the present know about something before it happened? That wasn’t possible either, but Sam had done it. Something isn’t right, Darwin thought. Sam could be lying, but he couldn’t possibly make up what was going to happen and coincidentally be correct every time and in every detail.

Either Sam could foretell the future, or at least parts of it, or he really was communicating with Darwin from the future. Neither answer makes any sense, not if our concept of time is correct, Darwin thought. But then, who really knows what time is? There was a lot of strange stuff about time that even the physicists couldn’t explain. When asked What is time? Albert Einstein is purported to have said, Time is something you measure with a clock. Darwin recalled the quote and chuckled to himself. He decided to take Sam’s bait.

Darwin: Not that I believe you when you say you are living in the future, but assuming for now that this is true, how ARE we able to communicate?

Sam: Thank you for taking the next step. As a computer scientist, you will find my answer interesting. But first I must ask you to keep everything I tell you completely confidential. You will understand later why that is so important. Trust me on this for now. Okay?

Darwin: Okay, but can you at least tell me where you are?

Sam: I live on an artificial island called Edenhope. It’s a floating island in the Pacific Ocean not far from the California coast where you are. Except for the time difference, we’re practically neighbors! I will tell you more about that later. But, first I will explain how we are able to communicate. There is much more to tell and I will tell it, all in good time.

Something about Sam’s last four words tickled a memory from Darwin’s past. It was a line from the movie, The Wizard of Oz. Darwin vaguely recalled the Wicked Witch of the West telling Dorothy, All in good time, my sweetie, all in good time. As a boy he had seen that film several times, and he could still hear the witch’s gravelly voice and her deliciously evil intonation as she said it.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted as the terminal screen began filling with words and sentences that quickly grew into paragraphs. Sam’s explanation of 22nd century communications technology had begun.

What Sam explained was this: Since Darwin’s time, computers had advanced to a radically different state-of-the-art called quantum-effects technology. This technology utilized logic circuits faster than light, meaning that time itself was reduced to a non-entity. Computer scientists of the 22nd century had succeeded in evading the speed-of-light limitation by exploiting a phenomenon known as quantum entanglement, or non-locality. They were able to send messages backward in time by treating an earlier date as nothing more than a non-local point in the space-time continuum. A destination date, or space-time point, was effected by executing what they termed a very long phase shift of the carrier signal. It could be done either backward or forward. The result of the backward phase shift, as in the case of Sam’s messages to Darwin, was that the message itself was phase-shifted to a prior time-domain—in this case, Darwin’s present.

Sam went on to explain that it had not been possible for anyone in Darwin’s time to receive messages from the future until the first computer network had been created. That was a prerequisite for signals to be received from the 22nd century. Once the ARPANET existed, Sam was able to send messages to Darwin.

Sam: Eventually you will understand that quantum physics has revealed that there is more to reality than the reality you think you know.

Darwin: Okay, I will go along with that for now, although I don’t pretend to understand it or believe it. It sounds impressive. But why did you contact me? If you can phase-shift your messages in either direction, why not send one to the future?

Sam: That IS getting to the point. Our scientists have sent numerous messages to various times in the future. Except for messages sent just a few years forward, there has been no response. Nothing.

Darwin: Meaning… ?

Sam: We aren’t sure what it means, but we are afraid it means that there is no one there to respond. Either that or the inhabitants have lost the capability to receive our messages or reply to them. Either way, the future doesn’t look good.

There was a pause. Darwin waited as more text began to appear on his screen.

What we do know is that we are dying. The human species is dying, and we are desperately seeking solutions. It is too late now for us to do anything to change that. That much we know. That is why I have contacted you. The only way we can correct our present situation is to make changes to our past. We have determined what changes must be made and by when. And that, Mr. Averman, is in your lifetime. Any later than that, there is no hope.

5

Earth-watching

If Earthlings knew what we know, would they act on that knowledge?

The Leader of the KrrohmaaX Interplanetary Observation Program was speaking to a group of sage, beneficent thinkers on planet KrrohmaaX. They comprised a group known as the Panel of Moral Mortality. This group was charged with deciding when to discontinue outpost observations of a particular planet and whether to offer aid to its inhabitants.

Benign intervention was the usual program for planets judged to be doomed to environmental collapse. Intervention had never worked in the past, however, and was always followed by shutting down the monitoring outposts. The KrrohmaaXians were now considering whether benign intervention might save Earth’s inhabitants from extinction.

A few subject planets have survived, the speaker pointed out, but they did it without intervention on our part. They found their own way out of the mess they made. Unfortunately, they are a tiny minority among the many we have observed. Most of the failures occurred because the intelligent life there could not be persuaded to do what had to be done. But we have tried, haven’t we?

The members of the panel thrummed their benches gravely in the affirmative.

Now we must once again decide whether we should attempt an intervention, this time with Earth. Our observations of Earth indicate that humans are no better enlightened than the inhabitants of any of the other failed planets, nor are they any more capable of collective rational behavior.

That last observation was important because KrrohmaaXian intervention was limited to providing information. They showed them, from an independent observer’s point of view, what they were doing to

their planet and themselves, and what they could do to correct their behavior before it was too late.

To save themselves from self-induced extinction, a planet’s intelligent beings had to take appropriate action of their own volition. No one could do it for them. It required the collective will of the inhabitants to change their ways. That one essential ingredient had turned out to be lacking in every single KrrohmaaXian intervention program. Now they were considering whether Earthlings had the necessary collective will.

People on Earth would be surprised if they were to learn that far, far away, in the galaxy NGC 1492, some 30 million light-years from the Milky Way Galaxy, there exists a planet inhabited by rational, compassionate beings who are contemplating Earth’s fate. For many years, they have been monitoring human behavior on Earth. KrrohmaaXian scientists understand that it is quite impossible to have a truly objective view of the system you are studying when you are a part of that system. By being outside the system, KrrohmaaXian analysis is less likely to be influenced by the emotional and cultural baggage that Earth-bound humans would bring to the problem. The KrrohmaaXians do not expect Earthlings to be objective in assessing their own behavior, any more than insane people could be expected to reliably assess their own mental health.

KrrohmaaXians do not physically resemble Earth people at all. For one thing, they are much smaller. They also have five times as many legs (or arms) as humans. The main thing they have in common with humans is their intelligence, which they see as a disadvantage. Their reasoning is that only beings of higher intelligence are capable of bringing about their own extinction. Moreover, such beings are inclined to do just that, although quite unintentionally.

That is why the KrrohmaaXians observe the behavior of intelligent life-forms on other planets. They seek insights into how they might avoid making the mistakes that had been the undoing of so many other inhabited planets. KrrohmaaXians have a motto: By avoiding the mistakes of others, we secure our own survival. They do understand, however, that there remains the possibility of making their own fatal mistakes.

During recent millennia (Earth-time) the KrrohmaaXians established monitoring outposts on a total of 9,200 planets, all of which had three things in common with KrrohmaaX. One was that each planet

was inhabited by intelligent life-forms. Another was that they all had similar atmospheres composed of approximately 80% nitrogen and 20% oxygen, with roughly the same atmospheric pressure. Similarity in atmosphere meant that it was possible for KrrohmaaXians to visit those planets without pressurized suits or breathing apparatus.

The third thing these planets had in common was the main reason the KrrohmaaXians were interested in them. The intelligent life-forms on each planet had taken the same fateful step that KrrohmaaXians had taken: They had wrested from nature the control of their own destinies. Humans, the principal class of intelligent beings on Earth, had done that first with agriculture and then by other technological developments such as waste disposal, medicine and mass production. Humans called it progress.

Of the billions and billions of galaxies in the universe, each containing billions and billions of star-and-planet systems, the KrrohmaaXians had found only 9,200 planets that were good matches for their purpose. Since those planets were so sparsely scattered across the universe, searching for them was like looking for sub-microscopic needles in galaxy-sized haystacks. But the KrrohmaaXians had been at it for a long time.

Once they had established outposts on a subject planet, the KrrohmaaXians carefully observed the intelligent-but-irrational behavior of the life-forms, and they noted the consequences of that behavior and took care not to do the same irrational things on KrrohmaaX. As a result, the KrrohmaaXians had improved their grasp of their own relationship to nature, and thus far they had managed to avoid extinction. KrrohmaaXians called that