Shift (11 page)

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Authors: Chris Dolley

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Shift
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"Go on," said Louise, indulging him.

Pendennis disappeared. As did the chair. Louise stared at the new image. It looked like a chunk of coral, a wild misshapen chunk of coral with tendrils radiating in places half a metre from the centre. The whole coloured in a wash of light blue.

"Forget about the blue colour," said Nick. "That's just there to help visualise the object. We could have chosen any colour. The important thing to note is the position of the object. Watch."

He flipped the image back to the original and then back again. "See where the higher dimensional matter is located. It's centred on the brain."

He flipped the images back and forth once more. Pendennis's head morphed into the blue coral and back again.

"Now, what we're seeing here isn't a complete higher dimensional representation. Remember how I told you that there were seven extra dimensions?"

Louise nodded.

"Let's call them a, b, c, d, e, f and g. Well, what you see here," he waved a hand at the holodisplay, "is only a, b and c. A three dimensional subset of the higher dimensions just to give you a flavour."

He checked his watch and then gazed towards the bay he'd loaded the data cube into. "Another ten minutes or so and I'll be able to show you the rest. Swap the axes in and out and show you how amazing the universe is three dimensions at a time."

"How does any of this help determine if Pendennis has escaped or not?"

"I'm coming to that."

He bounced to his feet and fetched a computer screen from the corner of the room.

"Now we're switching to two dimensions," he said, setting up the screen on a box and turning it on. "We're going to use colour to portray the higher dimensions. It's a bit confusing at first. But it's the best way we've found so far to visualise the entirety of a ten dimensional image."

He flicked switches on another control box and voiced in a series of commands. A multi-coloured image appeared on screen, the colours so dazzling it looked like a psychedelic cartoon.

"That," said Nick, "is the image of a normal brain." He smiled. "Well, as normal as anything about me could ever be described as normal. Maybe a tad larger than the average man or woman in the street's brain and chock full of . . ."

"I get the point," said Louise, cutting him off.

"But will you get this point?"

He turned off the screen, flicked a series of switches and voiced in a new set of commands. A new image appeared on the holodisplay—a life-size human brain slowly rotating through space.

"That's me," he said. "I've transferred the image to the HV display. Now watch as I flip to the abc representation."

Back came the blue coral. But smaller and more regular, the tendrils even and of similar size.

"Pendennis's brain is bigger than yours?" asked Louise.

"Not his physical brain. That's slightly smaller but the rest of it . . ." He billowed his arms. "I've only seen a subset of it so far but it's massive. Like someone's dipped his brain into a blender and then teased it out into all kinds of fantastic shapes."

He checked his watch again. "Another few minutes and we'll be able to see."

"You still haven't . . ."

"I'm getting to it." he interrupted. "Look."

He pressed a button on the remote and the image changed. A succession of images followed. Strange shapes, like exotic sea-creatures. Corals, sponges, jelly fish, shapes she couldn't even describe. Nick flicked through the dimensions three at a time, varying the combinations: c, d, and e; a, b and d; c, e and a. His brain morphing about its axis.

"Now, watch this," he said. The image disappeared. "That's the g axis. For some reason we haven't found anything that protrudes into it. Animate or inanimate. The same for the f."

He pressed the remote again. "Now look at this."

Another exotic shape appeared. Irregular and edged with what looked like fronds. Nick froze the image.

"This is the x, y and b representation." He stretched a finger into the viewing area and pointed to a dark line near the base of the image. "Do you see that?"

He pressed the remote and rotated the image—slowly. "It looks like a crack, doesn't it? And note its extent. It rings the base of the image. Separating the structure into two: the small area at the base and the larger mass at the top."

It did. An irregular black line sliced through the base of the image as though it was a piece of blue ceramic that had broken apart and been badly glued back together.

"Now, here's another. Again I'm mixing two physical dimensions with one higher and . . . same result."

He was definitely in his element. He looked like a stage magician producing rabbits from places no one dreamed a rabbit could ever appear from. His eyes screamed: isn't this amazing?

It was, but where was it going?

He flicked through image after image. Each one showed a dark line—or fracture as Nick now insisted on calling it—running through the base of the image.

"Now we flip back to a purely upper dimensional representation to refresh our memories and voila—no fractures anywhere. You only get a fracture when you see the brain straddling the upper and lower dimensions."

He slowed his delivery to emphasise the last sentence. You only get a fracture when you see the brain straddling the upper and lower dimensions.

He paused as though expecting a light bulb to ignite over Louise's head.

"So?" she asked.

"So maybe that fracture is the boundary between the upper and lower dimensions. A separation point between the physical world and the other—the universe of the higher dimensions."

Louise started to feel inordinately dense. What did any of that mean? There was a boundary and it was marked. Nice. But what bearing did it have on anything happening in the real world?

"Don't you see what that means?" he asked. "The brain is split in two."

She felt like saying 'so' again but decided upon another approach.

"Go back to the xyz display," she said.

The familiar shape of the physical human brain returned. "Freeze it there," she said, walking over and pointing to the dark line that separated the right and left hemispheres of the brain. "What's the difference between your 'fractures' and that?"

"There's every difference. They're different kind of lines for a start. One's at a dimensional boundary."

"They look the same to me."

"That's because you're looking at it with your head and not your heart. And, anyway, you haven't seen my other set of pictures."

 

Chapter Nine

He returned with another data cube, one he'd dug out of a box by the door. Louise wondered what kind of filing system he kept.

"Prepare to be amazed," he said, loading the cube.

A half life-size image of Nick lying on a bed materialised in mid-air.

"That's me," he said. "Five months ago."

She recognised the bed. It was the one pushed up against the far wall.

"Now, watch as I strip away my ruggedly handsome features."

First the bed then Nick's body peeled away—feet first—until all that was left was his brain. It flickered for an instant then jumped to twice life-size.

"Ready?" he asked, once more resembling a stage magician. A stage magician poised to present his showstopper.

"Should I get the popcorn?" she asked.

"Only if you want to miss the most amazing thing you'll ever see."

He pressed the remote and the image vanished to be replaced by nine smaller images in a three by three grid.

"Come closer," he said, beckoning her forward. "You can't afford to miss a thing. All these are different views of my brain. The one in the centre is the purely physical representation, top right is purely upper dimensional—the abc image—and those others are a mix of higher and physical axes—note the fracture lines."

Louise dutifully did.

"Now, I'm going to fast forward in time—let's not forget the ubiquitous fourth dimension—until . . ." He paused, his eyes riveted to a display panel on one of the control boxes. "Now!"

He pressed the remote and sat back on his heels. "Watch this. You'll be amazed."

Nine stationary objects floated in the ether. Some were the size of a large cauliflower others smaller, all were bizarre. Even the physical brain—the more she looked at it. What a weird collection of twists and folds.

Louise blinked. Was that movement? The one at the top right, the chunk of blue coral. Did one of its tips move?

It did. And again. The whole structure seemed to shudder. But the physical brain hadn't moved an inch. She looked at Nick. He smiled back.

"Astounding, isn't it?"

"How are you doing that?" she asked. "Are there muscles that cross into the higher dimensions?"

He didn't answer. Only smiled and pointed to the image. There was more to come.

The blue coral appeared to stretch, the appendages elongating. And the other images too. The movement barely perceptible, a shimmer, a slight ripple along the surface. Only the physical brain remained stock-still.

Louise watched, fascinated, what was going to happen next?

There was a sudden shudder—across all the blue images—every surface rippling and then . . . movement. Each image stretching and elongating just as the coral had and . . .

Louise's mouth opened in surprise. The dark fracture lines were widening. The basal areas remained stationary while the rest of the image pulled away, maybe as much as an inch, two inches.

Louise leaned in closer, lowering and tilting her head to peer through the crack of the nearest image. It had almost split in two. The upper portion pulling away but still connected by a thread. The thread distorting under the pressure, looking like a piece of elastic pulled close to its limits. It had to be seven, nearly eight inches long now. The other images showed a similar deflection. Nick's brain was being pulled apart at the higher dimensional level.

She threw a glance in his direction. Had it hurt? Had it . . .

Another shudder. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. The blue images were wobbling just like the bubbles of detergent she'd loved blowing as a child. Then they snapped back. Every image restored to how they had first appeared.

"Well?" said Nick, switching the display off. "What do you think of that?"

"What was it?"

"You mean besides history in the making?" He paused. Something that Louise had begun to recognise as his customary pause after a rhetorical question. "That was my attempt to prove a theory," he continued. 'And a good attempt too. Did you see the degree of separation I achieved?"

She had but what did it mean? "Separation?" she asked.

"Of mind and body. Weren't you watching?"

Alarm bells went off in Louise's head. Separation of mind and body? Was Nick about to say he'd just filmed his soul? She started to shake her head. Religion had no place in her life. Religion, God, souls. They were anathema. If there was a God why did He look the other way when her mother got sick? When she was wasting away in front of everyone's eyes? When she died?

And if He hadn't looked the other way—if He'd watched—that was no God she wanted to know.

"That was not a soul," she said, jabbing a finger at the empty space where the image had been.

"A soul is only a name . . ."

"No, it's not. It's a belief. You'll have every zealot using it as an excuse to get creationism back on the curriculum. Don't you remember the chaos that caused?"

"Okay," he said, raising his hands in attempt to calm her down. "Don't worry, I'm the last person who wants to go public with this. Not until I fully understand it. And at the moment I see two possibilities neither of which involves a deity."

She calmed down. "You do?"

"The way I see it it's one of two things. Something from the past or a glimpse of the future."

She was puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"Well, think back in evolutionary history to the birth of consciousness. Now, could that have come about because of a chance meeting millions of years ago? Two beings—one physical, one higher dimensional—combining together in a symbiotic relationship to produce the hybrid we know today? The higher dimensional component bringing consciousness and an increased potential for learning. The physical being bringing all the wonders of sensation—sight, sound, taste, smell and touch."

Louise was sceptical. "How would it breed? How could you transfer the higher dimensional component into future generations?"

Nick shrugged. "I haven't worked out the detail yet. But if it happened far enough back in the evolutionary process maybe the higher dimensional component fused with the corporeal being. Maybe it was that spark that brought life to our planet all those billions of years ago. Maybe our bodies are more like shells that the higher dimensional component animates and the fracture that I showed you is the vestigial join between two ancient entities."

"What's your second theory?"

"That we're on the verge of an evolutionary quantum shift."

She looked at him. He appeared deadly serious.

"What kind of evolutionary quantum shift?"

"Ascension."

She wasn't sure if she'd heard correctly. "Ascension?"

"Our next evolutionary step. Discarding our corporeal form. Not in this generation, maybe nor for several generations. But the mechanics are being put in place."

"Who by? God?"

"No, by random chance. All we need is that evolutionary push. The same motivation that whispered in the amphibian's ear—nice legs, now how about trying them out up there?"

"You think the human race is about to fly off into hyperspace?"

"I think a lot of things. One being that with the right motivation we can do anything. If the planet became uninhabitable—nuclear catastrophe, climatic meltdown, you name it—and I had the option of dying or flying, I know which I'd choose."

She didn't know what to say. It was all so . . . unreal and yet she'd seen the images.

"And it's already happening," continued Nick. "Think of Near Death Experiences. What's that but a natural stress reaction? A precursor, if you want, of evolution's tap on the shoulder."

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