She nodded. “I hadn’t even considered that second option, but you’re right. That’s a possibility, too.”
“Either way, I’m not sure it matters. The bigger mystery is: how did the cross grant St. Thomas the ability to predict this doomsday?”
“Hmm. That’s a good question.”
“So I’ve stumped you, Dr. Shaw.”
“Hardly,” she said, clearly spurred by the challenge in his voice. “Three facts to consider. One, dark energy is the driving force behind quantum mechanics. They are one and the same. A universal constant.”
“You mentioned that before.”
“Two, some individuals are more sensitive to electromagnetic radiation. Even without magnets.”
She looked pointedly at his fingertips.
He was actually familiar with the concept of electromagnetic hypersensitivity. Some people got sick if they were exposed too long to power lines or cellular towers, showing symptoms of headache, fatigue, tinnitus, even memory loss. While conversely, some individuals had a positive effect. It was believed that dowsers—those people wandering around with divining rods looking for water, buried metals, or gemstones—were uniquely attuned to the tiny gradient fluctuations in the ground’s magnetic field.
“Three,” she continued, “a common consensus among neuroscientists is that human consciousness lies within the quantum field generated by the vast neural network that is our brain.”
“So consciousness is a quantum effect.”
She smiled whimsically. “I’ve always found that last thought reassuring.”
“Why?”
“If that’s true, then by virtue of quantum mechanics, our consciousness is entangled across all the various multiverses. Perhaps when we die, it’s just a collapse of that potential in this timeline and our consciousness shifts into one where we are still living.”
From his doubtful expression, she delved deeper. “Take cancer. You have this cell in your body that divides wrong, a small mistake in a process that happens over and over again in a healthy body. If it divides correctly, no cancer. If it makes a mistake, you get cancer. A mere toss of the genetic dice. Heads or tails.”
Duncan hid a wince from her. Her words struck too close to home. His hand rose to touch the palm print tattooed on his chest. He pictured his younger brother, wasted to bone in a hospital bed, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of his shit-eating grin. Billy had died of osteogenic sarcoma, losing that toss of the genetic dice.
Jada continued, oblivious to his reaction. “But what if we are all entangled across multiple universes? That opens up a unique possibility. In one universe, cancer may kill you, but because you’re entangled, your consciousness shifts into that other universe where you don’t get cancer.”
“And you keep living?”
“Or at least your consciousness continues, merging with the other. This can happen over and over again, shifting each time to a timeline where you live . . . until you live your fullest life.”
He pictured Billy’s face, finding comfort in that possibility.
“But what happens after that?” he asked. “What happens when all those potentials collapse down to a single universe and you die there?”
“I don’t know. That’s the beauty of the universe. There’s always a new mystery. Maybe all this is just a test, a grand experiment. Many physicists are now convinced our universe is just a hologram, a three-dimensional construct built upon equations written on the inside of the sphere of this universe.”
“But who wrote those equations?”
She shrugged in her saddle. “Call it the hand of God, a higher power, a superintelligence, who knows?”
“I think we’re getting off track,” he said, returning to the subject of St. Thomas and his vision of doom. “To summarize your three points. The human brain functions quantumly, dark energy is a function of quantum mechanics, and some individuals are extrasensitive to EM fields.”
She looked at him to see if he could put it all together.
He was up to the challenge and proved it.
“You think St. Thomas was a sensitive. Because of that, he was especially affected by the dark energy given off by the cross, an energy that warped the quantum field in his brain to bring him a vision of this time.”
“Or there might be a simpler explanation.”
“Like what.”
“It was a miracle.”
He sighed loudly. “Whether science or a miracle, it still strikes me as damned coincidental that both the Eye of God and inner eye of St. Thomas had a vision of the exact same moment in time?”
“And God doesn’t play dice with the world,” she said, quoting Einstein.
Nice.
“I don’t think it was a coincidence,” she continued. “Remember, time is just a dimension. It has no inherent flow backward or forward.”
“In other words, the distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion?” He raised an eyebrow toward her. “See, I can quote Einstein, too.”
She grinned, looking five years younger. “Then consider time like a point in space. Both the Eye of God and that inner eye of St. Thomas slipped to that same point in time, likely when the comet’s corona of dark energy will come closest to Earth. There, like hitting a deep groove in a record, they both became stuck, trapped and playing the same bit of music over and over again.”
“Or in this case vision, showing the ruin of Earth.”
She nodded.
“But what do you think is going to happen then?”
“From what Director Crowe shared concerning Antarctica, I think when that dark energy corona reaches its maximum, it will bend space-time near the earth, just like gravity does normally.”
“Because dark energy and gravity are intimately entwined concepts,” he said, this time quoting her.
“Exactly. Only this time, instead of a wrinkle of space-time, it will create a chute, down which a rain of meteors will roll, like marbles along a slide.”
“That’s a cheery thought.”
“It’s only a theory.”
But seeing her expression, Duncan could tell she believed it.
Afterward, she remained silent for too long, as if something was bothering her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Seems like I’m still missing something.”
Before they could look deeper, a shout drew their attention forward. They had reached the end of the precarious ledge, and a wide plateau opened before them. Directly ahead rose a sharp mountain peak.