Coma (Paranormal Romance) (17 page)

I smiled, “I don't need to ask him, he hears
you like we do.”

“Right. You called him Zack?” George
addressed me.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Time is affected by gravity and velocity,”
Zack responded. “Difference in any of the two causes time dilation
from the reference point,” Zack finished, and I repeated it to
George, stealing a few amazed glances at Zack.

George’s expression was way beyond
astonished, “Great! Then I can move on to Einstein-Rosen bridge?” I
looked at Zack.

“Wormhole,” Zack smiled, smoothing his thumb
over the left side of my neck.

“A wormhole?” I darted a confused look toward
George.

“Yes, popularly known as wormholes. I take it
you two are familiar with that?”

“I am,” Sophie replied, and I nodded.

“Einstein-Rosen bridges, or wormholes, are
passages through space-time. Short cuts, if you will, through
curvature of the space-time. It has been concluded that they
collapse in on themselves, or are one-way passages, but no-one has
ever found one, so we couldn’t confirm that.”

“I’m sorry,” Sophie jumped in, “But what has
any of that to do with coma?”

To our surprise, George exclaimed with a
smile, “Everything!” He stared at us for a few seconds, but our
dumbfounded expressions killed his elated mood. “I’m getting there.
Be patient.”

“George’s research is highly based on coma
patients,” Alexandra added, still resting her back against the
wall.

“Quantum physics gives a theoretical
framework that makes time travel possible,” George stated.

“We know that from the movies,” Sophie
snickered.

“Yes,” George sighed, not at all amused by
her remark. “Future time travel is understandable, but what caused
a lot of disagreement is time travel to the past.”

“The grandfather paradox,” Zack chuckled.

“Sir,” I called out, “Zack says something
about a grandfather and a paradox?”

The old man chuckled, folding arms over his
round belly. “That would be it. Need me to explain?”

“Hell, yeah,” Sophie retorted. “I don’t get
any of it.”

“If a man from the future would travel back
to past where his grandfather was very young, and if that man would
then kill his own grandfather, it would create a paradox. That man
would cancel out his own existence, making it impossible to be in
the future in the first place, let alone travel back to kill
anyone.”

“Oh, I get it,” I said, Zack’s mention of
intelligent design came to mind. “But just because we don’t know
what would happen, doesn’t mean it’s not possible. I mean, Zack’s
the proof,” I chuckled.

“It’s not that easy. To solve this paradox,
some have hypothesized that the man would come back to an
alternative universe, kill his grandfather in a timeline in which
he didn’t exist,” George explained. I looked at Zack, but he
shrugged.

“Now, I’m confused,” I said, “Are you saying
Zack’s from an alternative universe?”

“Oh, no dear. I’m just setting a theoretical
background so you can get a better understanding.”

I sighed, “Okay, please, continue.”

“Now,” George swiped his forehead, “Studying
coma patients, I came to a conclusion that they were experiencing
alternative realities, not alternative universes.”

“Like seeing God and angels,” Sophie
snorted.

“Erm, no. Those were excluded from the
research. I studied those that were in a coma, but interacted with
this reality to some degree. For instance, one of the patients was
in a coma, no eye response, no pain response, but he talked out
loud, and the entire time he behaved as if he were in a bar. Not
dreaming it, a real time interaction. Nothing from this reality
could get through to him. His body was here, but he
lived
elsewhere.”

“That happens? Really?” I gasped. “I always
thought coma meant no response from the body at all.”

“There are different stages based on a level
of consciousness,” George chuckled. “Later, he told us that there
was no difference, and that his body was normal, but he was annoyed
that nobody could see him, and he couldn’t get a beer.”

“We checked his story with the bartender,”
Alexandra interjected, “And it checked out with everything he had
described. He was here, in our timeline.”

“With one exception,” George smirked. “He was
time dilated for three days!”

Zack and I looked at each other, then Sophie
asked, “Was he in that bar when he fell into a coma?”

“Yes,” George replied.

“Then it’s normal that he went back there,
they all do,” Sophie darted a glance at me. “It could have been
memories of his past days there, not real experiences, though.”

“Ah, there’s the catch!” George’s face lit
up. “We have three weeks of his coma taped, and they all match to
what was going on in the bar. Every single detail. We didn’t
understand it till the bartender showed us surveillance cameras.
Once we compared it to our data, we were shocked.”

“That’s amazing,” I said.

“Ask him does he know how it happens? The
travel—” Zack said to me, and I asked the question.

“Einstein-Rosen bridge! That’s why we
couldn’t find one. It happens through consciousness, but we have no
knowledge of how and why.”

My heart sunk. I heard Zack sigh heavily
behind my back. This wasn't helpful, and we were out of
options.

“Let’s oversimplify things,” George
continued, oblivious to our sudden sadness. “Before coma, our
patient’s coordinates would be L1 for length, H1 for height, W1 for
width, T1 for time, and F1 for our frequency band. When he slipped
into coma, his coordinates for time and frequency changed to T2 and
F2, while others stayed the same.” George rustled through a mess on
his desk, and got a piece of paper and a pen. He drew a circle.
“This circle is our frequency band. We're rooted in it by our
coordinates L, H, W, T. What happens to coma patients and on a
miniscule scale to schizophrenia patients is a slippage out of that
circle, frequency wise, and sometimes time wise.”

“I always knew I had a lot in common with
schizophrenia patients,” I snorted.

“Not really,” Alexandra retorted. “They slip
out of George's circle, and you two don't.”

“Alexandra is correct,” George picked up,
“You two have a wider frequency band within the same coordinates.”
He drew another circle around the existing one. “That's why you
perceive reality like we do, and you get a bonus of seeing what we
don't.”

“Doctor,” Sophie addressed Alexandra. “If you
knew all this, why didn't you believe me?”

Alexandra sighed, and bowed her head. “I'm
sorry Sophie, but like so many others, I thought George was plain
crazy. Until you proved Zack's existence, I didn't think any of his
research could be true.”

“When I say
we
, I mean my long term
assistant and myself, not Alexandra,” George explained. “She helped
a lot during my research out of courtesy, but she didn't think it
true, nor did she participate in my experiments.” George shot a
bland look toward her. “It was dangerous enough for her to be
involved as it is.”

“Whoever sided with George, either lost a job
or funding,” Alexandra added.

“Lyra,” Zack said. “Ask him, in his opinion,
how would one voluntarily move from his coordinate system. In
theory...”

Hearing me repeat Zack's question, George
trailed off into his thoughts. “You're basically asking me to
invent time travel,” he said after a while. Zack chuckled
nervously; Sophie and I stared at George hopefully. A couple of
minutes passed in silence before he said, “It's not impossible, but
you would have to have such level of consciousness that would allow
you to use Einstein-Rosen bridge voluntarily. And that's very
unlikely.”

I looked at Zack. His face was
expressionless, but something wild played in his eyes. Then he
asked, “Consciousness is a frequency. Could it be a thing of
resonance or quantum entanglement?”

“It might be,” George smirked. “Coma, sleep,
psychological disorders, even death—all are changes in frequency.
If you could create a quantum entanglement in this coordinate
juncture point, and if you could lift your consciousness' frequency
to a higher level, then you would, in fact, create your own
Einstein-Rosen bridge from there to here.”

Zack's eyes sparkled; Sophie and I exchanged
confused looks. “I don't get it. What does that mean? What's
quantum entanglement?” I asked.

“Quantum entanglement is a relationship
between two photons that enables them to communicate
instantaneously upon separation, transcending time and space,” Zack
explained, and George confirmed after I repeated Zack's words.

“Now. Can I hear more about what you know?”
George asked, crossing his arms. I was too numb and confused to
react. Luckily, Sophie couldn't wait to tell her side of the story.
She and Zack exchanged information with George about intelligent
realm design, what was allowed and what not, and how coma patients'
destination was always their last memory. Zack shared some of his
memories, and told everything about his amnesia.

That feeling of being out of place and time
became stronger than ever. I felt as if I was about to disappear.
My ears buzzed, and my body felt paralyzed. I heard them talking, I
saw them move around the office, but I couldn't move a muscle. As
if glued, my eyes were fixed on the tip of my knee. I wanted to
look away, to move a finger, but automatic body mechanisms that
usually did that for me without thinking, were now shut down. All I
could do was stare. Fear spread through my veins, quickening my
heart beat, requesting more air, but I couldn't speed up my
breathing. Completely immobile, I struggled for air, I willed my
breathing to speed up, but it wouldn't listen. As if on life
support, my breathing was shallow and slow. Panic gripped me,
causing even bigger shortness of air. Sparkling dots appeared in my
vision, and weakness overwhelmed me. I collapsed.

When I came to my senses, I was down on the
floor with a throw pillow under my head. Zack's worried face was
the first thing I saw upon opening my eyes. I saw his lips move,
but heard no sound. Slowly, my hearing came back, and I was able to
move my toes.

“Lyra,” Zack said, softly, stroking my hair,
“Are you okay?”

I cleared my throat, and a hoarse “Yes” came
out.

Zack smiled faintly, “Do you feel strong
enough to stand?”

“I think so,” I said, sitting up.

“Grab onto me,” Zack said, and helped me up.
The meeting was officially over.

~*~

Fresh air in front of George's building
brought much needed relief. Leaned against the wall, I inhaled
deeply through my nose, and exhaled through my mouth. Slowly,
oxygen levels in my blood improved, and I was feeling a lot better.
My hands still felt clammy and cold, but my heart established its
normal rhythm. Zack kept running his hands through his hair, and
nervously pacing up and down like a caged beast, irking Sophie.

“Will you stop that?” Sophie hissed at him.
Zack glared at her. “She's okay,” Sophie's voice lost that angry
edge. Zack darted his look toward me, and I put up a faint smile.
Okay wasn't really the word to describe how I felt, but I was
getting there. Zack wasn't convinced, so he suggested we grabbed
something to eat in a diner across the street.

Sophie was the first to sit down, then Zack,
and finally I slid next to him. I didn't feel like eating, but Zack
insisted I got some sugar down my throat. The only reason I had
agreed was to get his worried stare off my back.

“What does it all mean?” Sophie asked after
the waitress took our order.

“George's story?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” Sophie confirmed, smoothing her
palms over the table. “I didn't get the half of it,” she
sniggered.

“I'm thin on some parts, as well,” I
chuckled, “But Zack...” We both glanced at him. “Where did that
come from?”

“What?” Zack looked at us, baffled.

“Yeah, Zack,” Sophie picked up, “I thought
you were cool, not some nerd,” she giggled.

Zack flashed a nervous grin, “What's not cool
about quantum physics? Wormholes, time travel...All the good
stuff,” his nervous grin changed into a smirk.

The waitress brought our food and drinks,
temporarily bringing our conversation to a halt. Sophie immediately
started chewing on her burger, as if she hadn't eaten for days,
while Zack and I shared a plate of fries. I took a gulp of orange
juice, and pushed the glass over to him.

“Was any of that quantum stuff helpful?” I
glanced at Zack.

“Maybe,” he said, “I mean, in theory, I could
get back, but in practice...” He sighed. Pressure built inside my
chest, making me nauseous again. I shut my eyes, and placed my hand
over his. He flipped his palm, threading his fingers through mine.
“Let's hope that hundred years from now science has moved from
theoretical to practical,” not quite reassuring smile flickered on
his face.

“Crap,” I said, Sophie and Zack chuckled.

“That sums it up alright,” Zack laughed.

“So we're back to square one?” Sophie said
after downing the last of her coke.

“No,” Zack shook his head, “In order for me
to know what I know, quantum physics must be common knowledge in
the future. It came from that part of me, rooted deep inside, the
one that doesn't get erased by amnesia. Like walking,
talking...”

“And how's that a good thing?” I rolled my
eyes, and took another sip.

Zack brows furrowed. “If that's the case,
quantum entanglement could work.”

“And how do you get...
entangled
?” I
chuckled.

“Oh, he's entangled, all right,” Sophie
giggled. Zack smiled, and looked away, hiding flushed cheeks.

“No, really. How?” I said, raising my
brows.

“Well, she's kind of right,” Zack squeezed
out, having trouble maintaining eye contact.