Geeks and Gladiators

By Paul Hutchens

Our universe is not alone.  We have a sister universe.  13.7 billion years ago the Big Bang spawned two identical universes.  Both universes occupied the same ‘space’ but they were held apart by a tiny time differential, making them entirely invisible and unknown to each other - until our universe reached the beginning of the 22nd century.  The two universes exactly mirrored each other in every detail, atom for atom, blade of grass for blade of grass, person for person, thought for thought - every detail except that tiny time differential.
  
Tiny though that time differential was, over the course of 13.7 billion years it had gradually accumulated until it had exceeded 2,000 years, with our sister Earth being our Earth’s younger sibling.  It still precisely mirrored every detail of our Earth, but as our Earth was over 2,000 years ago.  Meanwhile, that gradually accumulated time differential also meant that our universe had expanded for 2,000 years longer that the younger universe, which meant that the two Earths had drifted three light years apart in their separate spheres of space-time.
  
This is the story of what happened when scientists on our planet Earth discovered the existence of our sister universe and the means to ‘hop’ between the two universes .... and the carnage that ensued when a small group of mostly well-meaning scientists decided to pay our sister Earth a visit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728385600

Paul Hutchens

The late PAUL HUTCHENS, one of evangelical Christianity's most prolific authors, went to be with the Lord on January 23, 1977. Mr. Hutchens, an ordained Baptist minister, served as an evangelist and itinerant preacher for many years. Best known for his Sugar Creek Gang series, Hutchens was a 1927 graduate of Moody Bible Institute. He was the author of 19 adult novels, 36 books in the Sugar Creek Gang series, and several booklets for servicemen during World War II. Mr. Hutchens and his wife, Jane, were married 52 years. They had two children and four grandchildren.

Book preview

1

EARTH

– 2103 AD –

Mark sat on a damp bench beside a bleak stretch of the Thames and wondered if he would ever recover from the humiliation of the past few hours. Nerves had got the better of him and his presentation flopped, which was bad enough, but the long question and answer session that followed was pure hell. Four years of painstaking research, and the best that any of his three examiners found to say about it was something about ‘nice computer graphics’.

A seabird landed on the railing in front of him, and said, Geek!

Four years, Mark said back.

Geek!

And nothing to show for it.

Geek!

Risible. One of them said my thesis was risible.

Geek!

"Another one laughed. He actually laughed."

Geek!

So you keep saying.

Geek! Geek!

OK, you win, I’m a geek, alright?

Geek! Geek! Geek! it said, and ejected a stream of white poop in front of his feet as it flew off.

Someone sat on the other end of the bench. He glimpsed shoulder-length glossy black hair with his peripheral vision and assumed it was a youngish woman, but he was too polite to look.

They sat in silence for a minute or so. Mark was thinking he ought to go in search of a burger or a bag of chips when the woman spoke.

What are you going to do now?

He looked at her and blinked a double-take. It was one of his examiners; Professor Kimie Yamamoto, or Kim, as she had insisted on being called.

Sorry?

I’m the one who should say sorry. I let the other two rip your thesis apart, and said nothing.

‘That’s true,’ he thought, but he didn’t speak.

Would you like a coffee? she asked.

Erm, well, err …

I’m cold, and there’s a café behind us. It would be a good place to talk.

Oh, well, if you, er, OK.

She stood up and walked to the curb. He followed.

He was uncomfortably aware of their unequal status as they walked across the road, and even more uncomfortable when they got their coffees and sat facing each other. After all, Kim wasn’t just an eminent scientist, despite being no more than five or six years older than him, she was also Managing Director of the Particle Research Institute, in Paris, as well as being a super-rich heiress to one of Japan’s wealthiest dynasties.

‘People like her just don’t go to greasy-spoon cafés,’ he thought, but what he said was, Sorry about my presentation.

You say that a lot, don’t you?

Sorry?

Yes, that.

Sor … oh, yes, I see what you mean.

There was nothing wrong with your presentation, Mark. You were nervous, that’s all.

One of the others laughed at me.

Well, what did you expect?

Sorry?

"It wasn’t your presentation that was at fault, Mark, or your research, it was the conclusions you drew from it that bothered them. You were supposed to show us your ability to do independent research by making some small contribution to existing science, not shake the scientific community to its core. You were way too ambitious."

I didn’t mean to shake anything, I was only trying to trace the Van Hooven Interface a few milliseconds closer to the Big Bang.

And ended up postulating a parallel universe with a parallel Earth that is two thousand years younger but otherwise identical to this Earth?

Well, yes, but only because that’s where my experiments led me.

Experiments? On a computer in your bedroom?

Two computers, at my university.

And you wonder why you were laughed at?

Are you laughing at me now?

No, Mark. As it happens, I’m extremely impressed by what you managed to do on such a miniscule budget.

Really? Then why didn’t you say so before?

Well, what if it turned out that you were right? There would be all sorts of things to think about before releasing that kind of information. I mean, you don’t go around telling people on this crowded Earth that there’s a sparsely populated Earth out there just waiting to be colonised and raped of its resources. Or don’t you care about that sort of thing?

Of course I care, but it’s not like I went to the press or anything. Besides, if the other Earth really exists it would have drifted three light years away from this Earth since the Big Bang. And then there’s the problem of passing through the Van Hooven Interface to get into the other universe, which isn’t exactly something anyone can do from their garden shed.

Quite, said Kim, then she studied his face over her cup while sipping her coffee.

Mark felt his usual shyness return and his cheeks flush under her gaze, but he was too curious to know where this conversation might be leading to break eye contact for long.

So, he said when she put her cup down, are you saying you think the other Earth might actually exist?

She glanced at her watch. I’m afraid I have a plane to catch, and don’t have time to discuss parallel universes or parallel Earths languishing in ancient Roman times.

Mark felt his shoulders sag and he wondered why she had bothered speaking to him at all. Have I blown my PhD?

I can’t discuss that with you until we’ve reached a decision.

His shoulders sagged even further. Right, well, I suppose I’d best be looking for a job stacking supermarket shelves.

She half-suppressed a smile. No, Mark, not if you are prepared to relocate to Paris.

Paris?

That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Like I said, I was very impressed by your work, and we happen to have a vacancy at the Particle Research Institute. It’s only as a research assistant, but we pay better than the going rate. Would you be interested?

Er, yes, of course I would.

Do you have a girlfriend or any other commitments keeping you in England?

No, not really, he said before fully absorbing the idea that she could be offering him a chance to get his career up and running on the very same day that he had been ridiculed in that awful oral examination. No, no commitments whatsoever.

Sure?

Positive. In fact I’d hop on a plane right now, if that’s what it took.

Good. In that case I’ll email you later today. She got to her feet and extended her hand. Sorry this has been so brief.

Oh, right. He stood up and shook her hand. Not at all.

Don’t worry, Mark, she said, giving his hand a slight squeeze, I know today has been an ordeal for you, but only because you lack experience dealing with Old School academics. Still keeping hold of his hand, she scrutinised his face again, and said, If you can resist the temptation to blab about brave new worlds to conservative-minded intellectuals, or anyone else for that matter, you could go far. Do you understand what I’m saying?

Yes, absolutely, he agreed. I’ve learnt my lesson on that score.

I hope so, Mark, she said, finally releasing his hand, I truly hope so. Anyway, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, but I really must dash. Take care.

And you, he said, bye, but she was already walking out of the café, leaving him standing beside their table in a state of mild shock.

When his mind began to function again, he said, Funny old day, then blushed and made for the door when he found he’d attracted the attention of the café’s half-dozen customers.

He walked a few hundred yards to the nearest tube station with his mind flip-flopping between images of his humiliating presentation and visions of a glittering career rubbing shoulders with some of the world’s finest scientists.

Minutes later he was boarding a train for his student digs in Watford when his phone pipped. It was an email: Hi Mark, I can meet you in Paris the day after tomorrow, if that suits? Let me know asap so I can ping you an air ticket and a contract. Kim.

Bloody hell, said Mark to himself, that was quick, and he spent the rest of the journey trying to compose the perfect way of saying Yes please!

*

The flight was uneventful and he had a couple of hours in his hotel room to freshen up, change into his smartest clothes and gather himself to meet his new colleagues.

Examining his profile in the room’s full-length mirror, he silently cursed himself for not getting enough exercise. He was twenty-five, stood close to six foot tall and was reasonably well-proportioned, but his slack waist and the shadows under his eyes betrayed the sedentary and semi-reclusive life he’d been leading while working on his PhD. Still, he was pleased with his new suit; it had stretched his credit card to the limit, but it did look good on him. His shoes were clean and unscuffed, his briefcase was old but showed few signs of wear. Passable, he murmured.

He checked his phone for the sixth or seventh time to make sure it was set to translate French to English through his earpiece. It was. I suppose I’m as ready as I’m ever likely to be, he said aloud, and took a deep breath. Time to go.

After walking a couple of blocks to the Particle Research Institute’s main entrance he was greeted in the foyer by a stunningly beautiful woman with short blonde hair framing an angelic face and a heart-stopping smile. Speaking English with a velvety French accent, she introduced herself as Camille and said she was Kim’s assistant.

Camille asked polite questions about his flight and hotel room as she escorted him along a corridor and through two sets of DNA-controlled doors that swung open ahead of them. He was just registering the subtle blend of her exquisite perfumes when she treated him to another of her delightful smiles and indicated an open door, then walked back the way she’d come.

Beyond the doorway, Kim and three men were sitting round one of the room’s two desks.

Kim rose to meet him. Mark, do join us, she said as they shook hands and the three men got to their feet. Let me introduce you. She gestured towards a small, dour-faced man in his forties. This is Professor Van Hooven.

Nice to meet you, Van Hooven said in heavily Dutch-accented French. Please call me Bernhard.

‘Oh my God,’ thought Mark while his phone was translating the man’s words through his earpiece, ‘it’s the Van Hooven; my academic hero!’ But all he managed to say was, Hello.

Kim then introduced him to a blonde, chisel-chinned and classically handsome man in his mid-thirties. This is Alexei Malinov. Alexei is one of Russia’s finest cosmonauts and is currently contracted to the European Space Agency, but he has kindly agreed to assist us with an exciting new project.

Hi, said Alexei, giving Mark a very firm handshake.

And this is Peter Willoughby, she said, nodding at a tall, gawky-looking man in his late-twenties.

Peter smiled broadly and thrust out his right hand for Mark to shake, along with several inches of bony forearm that slid out of his jacket’s sleeve. A pleasure to meet you, old chap, he said in a well-to-do London accent.

Peter is also joining the Institute today, Kim told Mark. He was a systems analyst with Apple before we headhunted him.

Peter beamed with pleasure. Headhunted, eh? What a nice way of putting it!

Kim beckoned Mark and Peter to take seats opposite her, Bernhard and Alexei, and then glanced at her watch. I’m afraid I have a flight to catch in a couple of hours, so I would be grateful if we could keep this very brief. We can catch up another time, if that’s OK with everyone. Would you care to do the honours, Bernhard?

Of course, Bernhard replied in French, and continued speaking in French while the translation software in Mark’s phone struggled to make sense of his Dutch accent.

Kim watched Mark furrowing his brow in concentration, then lightly touched the back of Bernhard’s hand, and said, I think we’ll need to find Mark a more up-to-date translation package.

Bernhard frowned at Mark and clicked his tongue in irritation, but thereafter spoke in almost perfect English. I was explaining that we do not think it is necessary to go through the normal induction process at this point. We have brought you and Peter here today because you will be working quite closely together, so we think it is appropriate to begin by giving you a chance to get to know each other.

Peter gave Mark another of his big open smiles, and Mark smiled back, only it wasn’t much of a smile because he was feeling unsettled by the contrast between the easygoing introductions and Bernhard’s tetchiness at being obliged to speak English just because Mark had neglected to upgrade his retarded old mobile.

Peter will be helping to set up our systems for the new project, Bernhard continued. You, Mark, will be Peter’s assistant. The two of you will share this office. Do you have any questions?

Peter shook his head.

How about you, Mark? asked Kim.

Er, well, I was kind of wondering what kind of project we might be working on.

Bernhard raised a questioning eyebrow at Kim and received a nod in reply. He cleared his throat, and said, It is related to certain matters raised in the two concluding chapters of your PhD thesis, only more focused in terms of practical applications.

Really? But those chapters were mostly about a parallel universe with a younger version of Earth.

Indeed, Mark, said Kim. You might be disappointed to hear that your research was not quite as original as you thought. On the other hand, as far as I’m aware you and Bernhard are the only two people on this Earth to have deduced the existence of New Earth, and at much the same time. This is a remarkable achievement, Mark, especially given your almost complete lack of funds. Isn’t that right, Bernhard?

Bernhard frowned at Mark.

Sorry, said Mark, did you say New Earth?

Dull name, isn’t it? said Alexei, smiling at Mark, then at Bernhard.

I believe it is still customary for the discoverer to have the privilege of naming that which he discovers, said Bernhard, rather pompously in Mark’s view.

Kim glanced at her watch again and stood up. I really must get a move on, so I think it’s time we left Peter and Mark in peace to settle in and get acquainted.

2

MOLLY

Well, said Peter as the chatter in the auditorium died down, perhaps now we’ll find out if your thesis was right.

I very much doubt it, Mark replied, trying not to raise his expectations, especially regarding his hypotheses about a parallel Earth still set in ancient Roman times, which he’d often wondered if he should have omitted from his thesis.

However, although Peter and Mark had been working at the Particle Research Institute for less than two months, and so far had done little except trawl through a seemingly endless pile of their colleagues’ unpublished papers, they’d gleaned enough to know that the Institute pinned more hopes on Molly than they cared to admit to the public.

Now they were sitting at individual workstations at the rear of the auditorium among thirty-odd more senior staff seated at workstations arranged in three curved ranks that were set at slightly descending levels, much like a small theatre or cinema. These in turn were set slightly above and behind a three-seat central workstation; the middle seat of which was occupied by Kim.

Every seat was occupied, and they all faced a wall that was dominated by a big central screen flanked by ranks of smaller screens.

The big screen was split into two halves. The right-hand half showed a Russian space station, Mir II, in geostationary orbit 36,000 kilometres above the equator. The left half displayed a real-time representation of Molly: a small device that was aboard Mir but could not be filmed in its sealed chamber. Mark, Peter and everyone else were waiting to see if Molly sent back any useful information as it was launched through the Van Hooven Interface into another universe.

At just under fourteen centimetres in diameter, Molly looked liked a metallic-green miniature rugby ball. Although small, Molly contained a huge array of cutting-edge micro- and nano-technologies. Two years had passed since a similar device had sent back what information it could in the incredibly short space of time it took to cross the interface between this universe and whatever part of the other universe the device happened to be adjacent to. A few photons of light had been detected in what otherwise appeared to be an empty bit of space. Scientific opinion among those involved in this field tended to regard the photons as evidence of a parallel universe that operates on much the same principles as our own universe, although most other scientists, commentators and the public at large remained unconvinced by the fuzzy images.

This time, however, Mir carried a beefed-up particle accelerator that produced a bombardment of subatomic particles in a carefully choreographed arrangement referred to as the ‘rifle’. An initial burst of super-accelerated particles would open a ‘window’ to the other universe, followed by a tubular stream of heavily concentrated particles that would attempt to hold the window open. Within the rifle, much lower concentrations of particles would undulate in spiraling waves that would pass Molly’s flanks so as to ease her transit through the minute but obstinate time differential that separated the two universes as she was ‘shot’ through the window and beyond. It was hoped that Molly could survive and transmit information back down the centre of the rifle for as long as the window could be kept open. No one knew how long that would be, but anything approaching one full second of uninterrupted information transfer would be seen as a major triumph.

Everyone watched in silence as the digital clock above the big split-screen marked the final countdown. When the countdown ended, a green light above the clock switched to red. Nothing changed on the right of the screen, but the real-time representation of Molly on the left vanished. At the same instant, the smaller screens started scrolling streams of digits and symbols at dizzying rates.

Breaths were held in anticipation of an extremely short burst of information that might be analysed at leisure when the light switched back to green; but the connection held and Molly continued to send colossal amounts of information back down the rifle for second after second.

Ten seconds passed in silence, then twenty. At thirty seconds someone breathed out the words, Whoa, what the hell? and another said, No shit! and laughed nervously. Still the light stayed red and information flooded into the research centre’s computers as the clock passed forty, fifty, sixty seconds. At this point there were some cheers and claps, but several people voiced doubts with comments such as, What’s going on here? and This can’t be right, can it? When the clock reached ninety seconds, someone called, Is something stuck? Should we give something a kick? Then the red light went back to green, the digital clock stopped at 96.34954362 seconds, some of the more frenetic activity on the screens settled down a bit, and the auditorium went deathly quiet.

The split central screen remained as it was, but six smaller screens on each side turned dark for a moment, then began to show points of light that steadily crystallised into high-resolution images of what Mark soon recognised as different sections of the night sky.

Being quite familiar with star patterns, it didn’t take him long to figure that the twelve images together represented all areas of the night sky. However, he was just beginning to think that something was missing when Kim cleared her throat and said, "Well, there you have it, Molly tells us the other universe looks like that."

After a pause in which no one else showed any inclination to speak, Kim continued her concise commentary: It seems the other universe doesn’t just operate on similar principles to our own universe, it looks very much like a copy of our universe, but with some fairly obvious exceptions. Then it dawned on Mark that the sun and moon were missing; which could only mean that Molly was no longer anywhere near Earth.

The shock of seeing a parallel universe appear in high-definition before their eyes kept most of those in the auditorium still and silent for several minutes, including Peter and Mark. A few worked intently at their consoles or exchanged hushed comments with their neighbours, but most just stared at the screens on the wall, or at Kim as she tapped a pen against her teeth.

After quietly consulting the people sitting either side of her, Kim used her console to replace the two images on the big central screen with two new images. Both sides of the screen now showed pristine three-dimensional views of very similar-looking sections of the night sky, except that the one on the right included a tiny image of Saturn. On closer inspection, there were some other differences too.

That, said Kim, pointing her pen at the image on the left, "according to Molly, is a section of our sister universe. On the right is the corresponding section of our universe, as seen from Mir." She used a cursor to drag the right-hand image and superimpose it on the left-hand image. Most of the stars matched more or less exactly, but some were visibly out of sync and a few were well out or missing completely.

Our solar system is not replicated here at all, she continued; "or at least not from Molly’s perspective. Otherwise, the stars that are most out of line with our own universe are those that are closest to us in our bit of the galaxy. Beyond them, some stars are a little out of sync, but very distant star systems and galaxies are in virtually identical positions."

As Mark listened to Kim he was torn between excitement at the idea that least part his thesis was being vindicated and doubts about whether Molly had been sent into another universe at all, but had instead somehow materialised outside our solar system, creating an illusion that our nearest stellar neighbours had shifted their positions. Other people were evidently having similar thoughts because a heated debate was developing in the middle of the room about whether Mir’s particle accelerator could have opened a wormhole into another part of the known universe.

Wormhole my ass! boomed the baritone voice of Jack Richardson; an internationally famous American scientist and TV’s current ‘go to’ scientific personality, who was seated directly behind Kim. Wormholes are pure fantasy!

Kim’s voice cut across the quarreling: Jack! Please don’t refer to wormholes and your ass in the same sentence; that’s certainly not one of my fantasies!

Caught off-guard, Mark had to suppress a convulsive laugh with such force that a small snot bubble blossomed from one of his nostrils. He quickly ducked behind his screen and wiped the bubble off, but it interrupted his concentration.

After satisfying himself that he hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention (other than Peter, who was now a firm friend, so didn’t really count) he spent a few moments gazing at Kim and marveling at her huge presence and flawless composure at such a phenomenally important moment of discovery. She was in fact very small and her guileless almond eyes gave her a look of innocent wonder, but she spoke with an air of easy leadership and a cool, sharp mind.

Kim’s intervention had the desired effect across the auditorium. The arguing stopped and she directed everyone’s attention back to the screens in front of her. She separated the images again, and said, Camille, to the woman on her right, who had introduced herself to Mark on his first day at the Institute as Kim’s assistant, "could you get a fix on where Molly would need to be in the other universe, or in this universe, if these images were to match up?"

Already on it, said Camille, nodding at the big screen. There, middle of the box. A white square frame outlined a small portion of the other universe. Zoom? she asked.

Yes, please.

The area featured inside the box was enlarged to fill the left half of the split-screen, and another box appeared in the middle of that and was also enlarged. The process was repeated until a bright star near the centre of the frame became a yellowish sun at the edge of the frame. The sun did not appear in the next frame, just another bit of skyscape where Camille’s computer said Earth ought to be if the images of the two universes were to match up.

Nothing there, said Kim.

No, but that sun isn’t so very far away, and it looks very like our own sun. Can I have a minute or two?

Sure.

Camille scanned a band of space around the yellowish sun until she found a tiny crescent-shaped object and enlarged it to fill the screen. The image was grainy but clear enough to show that the crescent was blue with swirls of white. The three-quarters that lay in darkness could be faintly discerned if one looked hard enough, as indeed could the shapes of what looked like the Iberian peninsula and northwestern Africa on the edge of the sunlit areas, and what could have been part of Brazil on the horizon.

Kim broke the deepening silence. Hmm, that’s interesting.

Huh, ever the master of understatement, said Jack, which drew a sharp shh! from one or two others.

Are we looking back at Earth? asked a doubtful voice from one side of the room.

Kim gestured towards the dark side of the planet with an upturned palm. There are no lights. If we were looking back at ourselves there would be thousands of patches of light marking towns and cities.

Excuse me, a woman interrupted from a couple of seats to Jack’s right, but there do appear to be some faint lights.

Where, Samita? asked Kim.

I’ve found several possible sources so far, but I’m fairly certain of three of them.

Just a moment, said Kim, tapping a few keys at her console. OK, it’s yours now.

Samita maneuvered the cursor until a box appeared over a dark and grainy section of what looked like the Mediterranean. No lights were immediately apparent, but the box was enlarged until it was pixilated. A cluster of pixels at the centre of the screen was now clearly lighter than the rest. This frame corresponds to part of western Italy, said Samita. Or more precisely, to that of Rome.

There was complete silence as Samita repeated the process. Another cluster of pixels was distinctly lighter than those that surrounded them. The lighter pixels in this frame correspond to part of Greece. Or more specifically, to Athens. She went through the process a third time. Here, the lighter patch corresponds to part of coastal Egypt, roughly where …

Let me guess, Kim interrupted, were you about to say Alexandria, by any chance?

Yes, I was.

The ancient world! someone breathed in awe.

Jack’s voice boomed out again. "Are you sure all this comes from Molly?"

Yes, said Kim quietly.

And you’re sure all the data is accurate?

As sure as I can be.

Then could we be looking back in time?

No, I don’t think so. Or at least no further back than the time it takes light to travel from the planet we are looking at.

It’s just over three light years from us, Camille added.

Mark felt Peter’s sharp elbow jab his upper arm, but he was too transfixed by what was happening in front of him to respond.

So what do you suppose we are looking at? asked Jack.

Well, I … Kim hesitated. I think it’s a bit soon for that.

I’ve got something interesting, said the man sitting to the left of Kim.

OK, Dimitri, let’s see what you have, please.

The big split-screen went back to the earlier images of the night sky, then panned out so that Saturn receded further into the distance and the sun entered the right-hand frame. Then the sun also receded until it became a yellowish star at the centre of the frame. A box appeared round the sun, and another box appeared round a similar-looking star on the periphery of the left-hand image.

That, said Dimitri, pointing to the left, is the sun Camille mentioned. He dragged a copy of the right-hand image over that on the left. The superimposed image is a simulation of our universe. As Kim said, a few stars are well out of sync and a few are a little out of sync, but the vast majority match, more or less. Now look what happens when the simulation goes back in time.

Some of the simulated stars began to move. Two small points of light whirled round the simulated sun while the sun itself wobbled its way slowly across the screen.

A digital date at the top of the image ticked off the centuries until it went below 200 AD, then started to slow down. By now the simulated sun had crept much closer to its counterpart, and some of the stars that were slightly out of sync were merging with their counterparts. Eventually, all but the two fast moving points of light had more or less merged.

The two still visibly moving are Jupiter and Saturn, said Dimitri as they also slowed to a crawl and merged with their counterparts. The date stopped changing at 4/3/108 BC. I think everything matches now.

That’s why I had trouble locating Earth, said Camille as the merged stars were again replaced by the crescent-shaped ‘Earth’. It’s winter here, in France, but early summer in, um, the other France; or perhaps I should say Gaul.

108 BC, Kim mused, or 105 BC if one accounts for it being three light years away.

Do you still maintain that we are not looking back in time? asked Jack.

"Until I have a reason to suppose that everything Molly is telling us is false, then yes, I do."

What then? A parallel universe that’s running a bit slow?

Something like that, perhaps, she replied; and Mark felt his face flush hotly as she momentarily turned and smiled directly at him.

He felt Peter’s elbow jab his upper arm again, and this time Mark returned his friend’s big grin with a modest and embarrassed little smile.

Wouldn’t that imply that a slight temporal disparity is the only thing holding the two universes apart? asked Jack. I mean, two universes created at the moment of the Big Bang, both of which perfectly mirror each other right down to the last subatomic particle, except that the progress of time in the two universes is fractionally different?

Possibly, said Kim, tapping her teeth with her pen again as she stared at the image of another Earth in the days of the Roman Republic. "If the two universes are truly identical in every other respect, it would only take a very small time differential since the Big Bang to account for what we are looking at."

In which case, said Jack, what’s to stop us from going there?

To the other Earth?

"Why not? Molly seemed to be unharmed while the window remained open, and we have no reason to think she isn’t still speeding her way through our sister universe."

Well, if it turns out that the only thing holding the universes apart is a slight temporal disparity, then it might be possible one day, I really don’t know. I almost hope not.

Why? asked Jack.

There are eleven billion people on this Earth. How would it be for another Earth, a pre-modern Earth, if large numbers of sightseers and settlers go there? Or pilgrims?

Pilgrims? said Jack.

"If it really is a parallel Earth, parallel in every respect, except for it being 105 BC and running very slightly slower, then it might be possible for people from our Earth to get there in time to say hello to the other Earth’s Jesus Christ."

Ah, was all Jack found