Reflections

  Part 2: A Reflected Earth

  Stu-Jake Frankenbaum came from a long line of Frankenbaum’s with hyphenated first names. Stu-Jake didn’t come from this particular Earth though. Bram Shakley and he had opened a magnetic vortex and traveled into Earth’s past, but it was not the same planet Earth at all. It was the vindication of their professional careers and perhaps the most important discovery to be made since paradox encryption was devised to safeguard time travelers and the time line when using magnetic vortexes. Stu-Jake and Bram believed that quantum mechanics formed a lattice that could be reflected, duplicating a single molecule, a complex object, or even an entire star system. They believed the Earth they now stood upon was a reflection of an Earth, most likely their own Earth, created by some ultraviolet catastrophe, such as a paradox in the time line. They also believed that the quantum lattice of this particular reflection would dissipate in less than twenty-four hours, local time. Their own time was some two thousand years away.

  While performing research on the outskirts of the known universe, Bram had discovered traces of the Sol system traveling at an amazing speed. It was traveling so fast that it had reached the edge of the known universe in less than a week, which meant time travel was the only way to figure out what sort of object resembling Earth had raced by so many years ago. After applying a secret methodology Bram and Stu-Jake had developed, Bram determined that only one lattice was able to survive longer than twenty-four hours from the time the Earth-like object had whizzed by that spot. Some guy, somewhere in time, would wake up one day to find the Earth falling apart around him.

  To prove their research, Bram and Stu-Jake would have to open a magnetic vortex to the exact time and place of the reflected Earth, without the protection of paradox encryption. That was tantamount to being quite bad because time travel without paradox encryption was absolutely forbidden. However, they could not bring anyone or anything through an encrypted vortex.

  Sometime in the past, somewhere on a near-perfect copy of Earth, Klaus Reinhardt listened incredulously.

  For Klaus, it had been one of those weeks. The negotiations had not gone well, and he had spent many hours contacting everyone involved in the class-action lawsuit. He was extremely tired, and everything seemed a bit out of focus. Everyone seemed more edgy, too. Klaus Reinhardt’s auntie called him three times that morning because she couldn’t remember where she left Muffles, her indigenous furry pet. His auntie’s name was Muffles and she hated indigenous furry animals. And, since space travel was nothing more than an expensive game that only governments played, it seemed odd that she would differentiate her non-existent pet as being indigenous. It was that kind of edgy. He felt hungover. He had a headache. Nobody bothered to show up for work that week, and he was having a hard time finding anybody that didn’t appear to be walking around in some form of delirium. Then, as if from nowhere, two stranger men, decked-out in their best for a Star Trek convention or something, appeared and said they had important news to impart. Very important news about the world. It was ending, or some nonsense.

  "To be completely accurate," Stu-Jake Frankenbaum said, "we are pretty sure the world ended about a week ago." He bounced on the balls of his feet, testing the firmness of the pavement.

  "Everything you see isn’t really real," Bram Shakley added excitedly; the sort of excitement one would expect from someone describing an amazing new soft drink that tasted like a color and made the spine tingle. He acted like he was fizzing right there on the pavement. Or, it could have been the strange sensations Klaus was feeling.

  Stu-Jake nodded. "What Bram means is that everything you see is real in the tangible sense, but only because the sub-atomic structure still exists."

  Klaus blinked and looked around him. People walked on by, some pausing and snickering at overheard snippets of the conversation. "This is a show, right? Some new Japanese show where you try to get me to go all freaky on a hidden camera? You probably already have a Web site for it, Klaus Reinhardt Goes Freaky dot-com."

  Bram shook his head. "No."

  "So, the world was blown up," Klaus said acidly, and looked around again. "I must say it took its lumps pretty well."

  "Ultraviolet catastrophe," Stu-Jake explained. "Something so terrible and strong that every atom that was in your body was ripped out in a near-instant. So powerful it sent you, the planet, and the rest of the solar system hurling through the universe. So fast, that every atom in your quantum lattice was replaced almost immediately."

  "A super tiny bit longer than Planck time," Bram said excitedly, "about ten to the negative forty two point nine seconds."

  "You must be amazed that you’re alive at all," Stu-Jake said, hoping Klaus shared in their awe.

  Klaus didn’t share anything with them, much less the shock and awe of their presentation.

  Stu-Jake tried to keep Klaus from walking away and hurriedly stepped in front of him. "A quantum lattice has a lifespan a smidge longer than Planck time. Even in the instant that all of this was destroyed and then the atoms replaced, it was long enough for most of the lattices to become irrevocably damaged. You, personally, are the exception."

  "Haven’t you noticed anything weird going on in the last week or so?" Bram asked.

  Klaus paused and nodded. "I suppose I have."

  "Everything and everyone in this star system, except for you, is going to start dissipating in the next twenty four hours." Stu-Jake looked evenly at Klaus.

  "And what am I supposed to do?" Klaus asked with much skepticism. "Let myself be beamed up to your space ship? Be whisked away by your shuttle craft? Click my heels three times?"

  "Step through our time portal," Bram said sheepishly.

  "I figured it would be something impossibly stupid," Klaus snorted.

  "Mr. Reinhardt," Stu-Jake said matter-of-factly. "You are a chance discovery for us. Time travel is an important industry in our time, and …"

  "This is bull," Klaus stated. "I’m too busy to listen to this any more."

  "You don’t have to listen, Mr. Reinhardt. Just let us take you back with us. You don’t even have to move from where you are standing. Just say yes," Bram spoke with earnest.

  "Fine," Klaus said, finally exasperated. "Whisk me away to the …"

  Out in the farthest known expanse of the universe, Klaus Reinhardt awoke in a dingy camper that smelled a bit like cat urine and a lot like a bean fart.

  "Mr. Reinhardt?" Stu-Jake waved his hand in front of Klaus’ face.

  "Where am I?" Klaus asked, sprawled across a molded plastic chair.

  "On our ship, at the edge of the known universe. We brought you forward through time."

  Klaus looked about worriedly. He stood from the chair and bumped his head on a low-hanging metal pipe. "Where am I?" he demanded. "I want to go back."

  "Sorry. It’s the reality of space travel when you’re on a budget." Stu-Jake shrugged and offered Klaus a damp towel. "You’ll probably want to clean yourself up a bit. Time travel can put unexpected pressure on the bladder if you’re not used to it."

  Klaus snatched the towel and dabbed at his trousers. "That would explain the smell."

  "Actually, that was probably our Jolly Cat," Stu-Jake grimaced. "He must have sprayed the magnetic vortex again while we were gone."

  "What the hell is a Jolly Cat? Never mind!" Klaus said, feeling perturbed. "I want to go back home."

  "You’d be dead if you did," Bram said, trying to use a soothing voice. He approached Klaus and looked at him with a dead-pan expression. "And, now that you’re here, you’ve altered this time line and would cause an ultraviolet catastrophe from a time paradox if you returned to your time."

  "Why? If I go back in time and die, or don’t die, I have made absolutely no contributions whatsoever to this time, if it is indeed the future." Klaus sat back down in the plastic chair.

  "But you would if you returned," Bram said. "That’s why the primary rule of time travel is nev
er forward. Moving forwards through time ahead of your origin is discouraged because the knowledge gained by moving forward forever changes the observer."

  "You broke the primary rule of time travel?" Klaus asked.

  "Only if you return. Besides, we had to bring you here," Stu-Jake said, "because something terrible must have happened to cause the reflection."

  "But if I’m going to die anyway, why would that matter?" Klaus snapped.

  "Are you familiar with the postulate ‘Occam’s Balls?’" Bram asked. When Klaus shook his head very slightly and with a moderately perturbed expression, he continued. "Two identical balls being equal for a period of time, the observance of one leaves it changed from the second. Of course nobody thinks about ‘Occam’s Balls’ because, if one were really into Occam and subscribed to the much more popular ‘Occam’s Razor’, the simplest explanation is that Occam and his balls were full of shit."

  Klaus stared blankly.

  "What he means," Stu-Jake interjected, "is that since we used an unprotected form of time travel to bring you here, we’ve not only violated many rules of time travel, but have contributed a significant change to the past, as well as the present."

  "And?" Klaus asked.

  "Like Stu-Jake told you back in your time, time travel is a big industry at this time, particularly the observance of past events." Bram inhaled deeply. "Since your presence proves an alternate Earth existed, we might then show that some observances of past events might be false, even if they happened within the span of time from when the Earth was reflected to the time it dissipated. And, as you are with us now, those who watch the time line will know there was a change. A pretty big one."

  "Why would there be a change if I would have died in a few hours anyway?" Klaus asked.

  "Because, first, you would show up again, and, logically, if Earth was reflected and you were on the reflection, then you were reflected as well, and are therefore not the original Klaus Reinhardt."