Paul Melko - The Walls of the Universe

Half of the books were summaries of colloquia or workshops. The papers were riddled with equations, and all of them assumed an advanced understanding of the subject matter. John had no basis to understand any of the math.

In the front matter of one of the books was a quote from a physicist regarding a theory called the Many-Worlds Theory: “When a quantum transition occurs, an irreversible one, which is happening in our universe at nearly an infinite rate, a new universe branches off from that transition in which the transition did not occur. Our universe is just a single one of a myriad copies, each slightly different than the others.”

John felt an affinity for the quote immediately. He had seen other universes in which small changes had resulted in totally different futures, such as Alexander Graham Bell’s invention of the electric motor. It almost made sense then that every universe John visited was one of billions in which some quantum event or decision occurred differently.

He shut the book. He thought he had enough to ask his questions of Wilson now.

The second-floor hallway seemed identical, right down to the empty offices and cluttered billboards. Professor Wilson’s office was again at the end of the hall, and he was there, reading a journal. John wondered if it was the same one.

“Come on in,” Wilson said at John’s knock.

“I have a couple questions.”

“About the homework set?”

“No, this is unrelated. It’s about quantum cosmology.”

Wilson put his journal down and nodded. “A complex subject. What’s your question?”

“Do you agree with the Many-Worlds Theory?” John asked.

“No.”

John waited, unsure what to make of the single-syllable answer. Then he said, “Uh, no?”

“No. It’s hogwash in my opinion. What’s your interest in it? Are you one of my students?” Wilson sported the same gray jacket over the same blue oxford.

“You don’t believe in multiple universes as an explanation… for…” John was at a loss again. He didn’t know as much as he thought he knew. He still couldn’t ask the right questions.

“For quantum theory?” asked Wilson. “No. It’s not necessary. Do you know Occam’s Theory?”

John nodded.

“Which is simpler? One universe that moves under statistical laws at the quantum level or an infinite number of universes, each stemming from every random event? How many universes have you seen?”

John began to answer the rhetorical question.

“One,” said Wilson before John could open his mouth. Wilson looked John up and down. “Are you a student here?”

“Uh, no. I’m in high school,” John admitted.

“I see. This is really pretty advanced stuff, young man. Graduate-level stuff. Have you had calculus?”

“Just half a semester.”

“Let me try to explain it another way.” He picked up a paperweight off his desk, a rock with eyes and mouth painted on it. “I am going to make a decision to drop this rock between now and ten seconds from now.” He paused, then dropped the rock after perhaps seven seconds. “A random process. In ten other universes, assuming for simplicity that I could only drop the rock at integer seconds and not fractional seconds, I dropped the rock at each of the seconds from one to ten. I made ten universes by generating a random event. By the Many-Worlds Theory, they all exist. The question is, where did all the matter and energy come from to build ten new universes just like that?” He snapped his fingers. “Now extrapolate to the nearly infinite number of quantum transitions happening on the Earth this second. How much energy is required to build all those universes? Where does it come from? Clearly the Many-Worlds Theory is absurd.”

John shook his head, trying to understand the idea. He couldn’t refute Wilson ’s argument. He realized how little he really knew. He said, “But what if multiple worlds did exist? Could you travel between the worlds?”

“You can’t; you won’t, not even remotely possible.”

“But-”

“It can’t happen, even if the theory were true.”

“Then the theory is wrong,” John said to himself.

“I told you it was wrong. There are no parallel universes.”

John felt the frustration growing in him. “But I know there are. I’ve seen them.”

“I’d say your observations were manipulated or you saw something that you interpreted incorrectly.”

“Don’t condescend to me again!” John shouted.

Wilson looked at him calmly, then stood.

“Get out of this office, and I suggest you get off this campus right now. I recommend that you seek medical attention immediately,” Wilson said coldly.

John’s frustration turned to rage. Wilson was no different here than in the last universe. He assumed John was wrong because he acted like a hick, a farm boy. He was certain John knew nothing that he didn’t already know.

John flung himself at the man. Wilson ’s papers scattered across his chest and onto the floor. John grabbed at Wilson ’s jacket from across the desk and yelled into his face, “I’ll prove it to you, goddamn it! I’ll prove it.”

“Get off me!” Wilson yelled, and pushed John away. Wilson lost his balance when John’s grip on his jacket slipped and he fell on the floor against his chair. “You maniac!”

His breathing coming hard, John stood across from the desk from him. John needed proof. His eyes saw the diploma on the wall of Wilson ’s office. He grabbed it and ran out of the office. If he couldn’t convince this Wilson, he’d convince the next. He found an alcove beside the building and transferred out.

John stood clutching Wilson ’s diploma to his chest, his heart still thumping from the confrontation. Suddenly he felt silly. He’d attacked the man and stolen his diploma to prove to another version of him that John wasn’t a wacko.

He looked across the quad. He watched a boy catch a Frisbee, and then saw juxtaposed the images of him tripping and not catching it, just missing it to the left, to the right, a million permutations. Everything in the quad was suddenly a blur.

He shook his head, then lifted the diploma so that he could read it. He’d try again, and this time he’d try the direct approach.

John climbed the steps to Wilson ’s office and knocked.

“Come on in.”

“I have a problem.”

Wilson nodded and asked, “How can I help?”

“I’ve visited you three times. Twice before you wouldn’t believe me,” John said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” he said. “You’re not one of my students, are you?”

“No, I’m not. We’ve never met, but I’ve met versions of you.”

“Really.”

“Don’t patronize me! You do that every f-” John stopped himself, then continued slowly. “You do that every time, and I’ve had enough.” His arms were shaking. “I don’t belong in this universe. I belong in another. Do you understand?”

Wilson ’s face was emotionless, still. “No, please explain.”

“I was tricked into using a device. I was tricked by another version of myself because he wanted my life. He told me I could get back, but the device either doesn’t work right or only goes in one direction. I want to get back to my universe, and I need help.”

Wilson nodded. “Why don’t you sit down?”

John nodded, tears welling in his eyes. He’d finally gotten through to Wilson.

“So you’ve tried talking with me-other versions of me-in other universes and I won’t help. Why not?”

“We start by discussing parallel universes or quantum cosmology or Multi-Worlds Theory, and you end up shooting it all down with Occam’s razor.”

“Sounds like something I’d say,” Wilson said, nodding. “So you have a device.”