The Multiverse

*Note to readers: This story involves the fetish of smoking. If that offends you, please move on but don't bother telling me how you feel about it. Smoking is legal and people who smoke do so by choice. As I've said elsewhere, from the moment it begins, life comes with a death sentence. How we live in between is a matter of free choice. Many of us find the site of an attractive woman smoking to be about as sexually erotic as anything on earth. If you don't, then please find another story to read.

It also contains a healthy dose of sci-fi and even a bit of actual science. Unlike most of my stories which are based on my own personal experiences, this one is pure fantasy. It was a lot of fun to write.

*****

Chapter 1

"We need to get moving. This door or wall or whatever this may be is the best lead we've had yet. Ten minutes, people. Let's get ready!"

Dr. Sandra Grayson was his deputy team leader and a longtime personal friend. "Adam? Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied as he prepped his rucksack for the day.

"You and Cassie. Are you really sure it's over? I've known both of you for 10 years. I was at your wedding six years ago. If ever two people were right for each other..."

"Sandy? Leave it alone, okay? You asked your question. That's my answer."

How could he expect anyone else to understand why he left the love of his life? Anyone else would say he was selfish, uncaring, and maybe even evil. But their opinions didn't matter to him anymore than the naysayers' opinions had mattered when he fell in love with her. What mattered was how Adam Miller felt and the rest of the world be damned.

He'd spent his adult life in pursuit of two things: his passion for physics and history and a woman who was everything he wanted. The first two were easy. They were a labor of love. Getting a PhD from Stanford in particle physics was—fun. Staying there and getting a second PhD in ancient history was equally enjoyable. And that's where his second passion found its outlet. In a young, untenured associate professor named Cassandra Lewis. She was a year older than him and she was so beautiful! It took him some time to get to know her and even more time to get up the nerve to ask her out. But because she was exactly what he wanted in a wife, there was no chance he wouldn't ask her on a first date. Or a second. Or a third. Or to marry him.

Miller liked women with a certain look. Sure, they had to be intelligent, fun to be with, and at least aligned with him politically (Libertarian-ish) and religiously (read: atheist or agnostic) but beyond that, he loved women who dressed a certain way and that was Cassie to a tee. Finding all those things and a woman who enjoyed his deepest passion was the hard part. Adam decided long ago he would find a marry such a woman and Cassie was her. The decisive factor was that he knew Cassie smoked and he'd found one reason or another to sit nearby while she was outside on a break having a cigarette. Smoking had always enthralled him. Women who looked and dressed like Cassie who also smoked, sent him over the moon.

So when she suddenly told she planned to quit smoking last year, Miller's world was torn apart. She knew how much it meant to him but she was adamant. So was Miller. He loved her dearly and the scientist in him told him she was correct. Smoking was incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. But Miller knew what he wanted. He also knew the marriage couldn't work if Cassie followed through—which she did.

Heartbroken, Miller moved out and threw himself into his work, the other passion in his life. He worked for a private company which supported archeological discovery and after just three years with them, he became a team leader and this trip to Egypt was his first as the person in charge. After such a huge loss in his personal life, he was determined to succeed in his work.

"Let's move out, folks!" Miller said as everyone got into one of the three Land Rovers they'd rented in Cairo. The arrived at the Great Pyramid just as the sun came up and began their investigation. He'd given everyone instructions to stay in place as he investigated a dark, narrow passageway. Adam always led by example and he wasn't going to send someone to check out a part of the underground structure no one had been in for some 4,000 years.

The Egyptian government had blocked his request for access to the Great Pyramid for two years until he was able to come up with the required "fee" of $100,000. Miller was convinced there was a network of underground tunnels and rooms under the central pyramid based on new a mathematical analysis of its visible surface area. In order to support the mass of the visible stones, they had to be a very large foundation underneath. However, the algorithm he'd developed allowed him to calculate the mass to 12 digits to the right of the decimal place. The results conclusively proved their were empty spaces in the rock below. It also showed some sort of very dense object which resembled metal but wasn't he metal known to science.

He determined four possible points of access and on his first attempt, he found what he was looking for. Some 50 feet below the current surface was what was clearly an entrance of some kind. What was beyond fascinating was that this "door" wasn't made of stone. It looked like a type of metal but it wasn't iron, bronze, or even steel. On this door which had no handle and no lock of any kind, were a dozen mysterious-looking symbols. Sandra was the resident Egyptologist on the team and was well-known and highly respected as one of the foremost experts in hieroglyphics. After a solid week of cryptologic analysis, she believed she'd deciphered their meaning.

"These marks—these symbols—are a code. They represent four pressure points as well as the sequence in which they must be touched. I believe that if done in the proper order, the door—or whatever this thing is—will open. Because of the timing aspect, it will require four team members working together as part of an orchestra, if you will. Those selected will need to practice this pattern on a wall of similar dimensions. Each hand must be placed to within four centimeters of the specified location within 0.5 seconds of the specified time. There's one additional issue and one unsolved problem. The issue is it appears we get one try and one try only before a kind of timer closes off access for another century. Therefore, there is no room for error."

"And the unresolved problem?" Miller asked.

"I don't know what the final symbol means. The others fit a known pattern. The last one is separated from the others by three times the spacing and it's unique. I recognize parts of it but taken in its entirety, I can't sense of it."

"What's you best guess?" Adam asked her.

"My best guess? My best guess is we can't afford to guess. We need to know what we're doing. In the meantime, we need to start training our four team members to memorize their parts like synchronized swimmers. Developing some sort of musical beat seems logical so that there's no mistake in hand placement or timing."

That comment—Grayson's reference to a musical beat and to hand placement—sounded familiar. Miller's academic background facilitated meeting all kinds of interesting people from around the world. His two areas of expertise were odd bedfellows, to be sure, but working in a field where he could potentially use both was the reason he worked where did. Making the relatively modest amount of money he made didn't matter. The discovery of ancient, scientific relics did.

Jakob Matumbo. The name hit him like a bolt of lighting. Jakob was another odd combination but in a different sense. His father was Jewish but his mother was Ugandan. Matumbo was a member of the University of Uganda's history department and he'd worked with Miller once before.

Adam pulled out his smart phone, saw that he had a strong signal, scrolled through his contacts until he got to 'M', then hit dial. Four rings later he heard the familiar rhythmic voice of Dr. Jakob Matumbo.

"Adam! So good to hear from you. You're in Egypt these days, are you not?"

"I am, Jakob. And I have a problem I believe you can help me with."

"How so?" Matumbo asked.

"When we worked together in Jerusalem two years ago, you told me about an ancient Jewish hymn or chant or something. It was sung only by the leader of the people. What is it called?"

"Ah, yes! The Chant of Methuselah. The legend says that it is only to be sung by the leader of the people. The High Priest. He must place his hand in the center of the four hands on the wall of the Holy Temple, then repeat the Chant. In order, the others place there hands in the locations sung out in the Call. When properly done, access to the Holy of Holies is granted to the High Priest. I have the chant recorded in a wave file. Would you like me to send it to you, Adam?"

"Yes, please. If I'm right, this is the missing piece of a very important puzzle. Thank you, Jakob. Thank you so much, my friend."

Miller jogged over to Dr. Grayson and asked her if what Matumbo just told him made any sense. He played the file Jakob emailed him and Grayson's eyes opened wide. Grayson became very animated. "Yes! In fact, that makes a lot of sense," she said. "Look here." She showed Miller the final symbol. It made no sense to him but it apparently now did to Grayson. She pointed to the last symbol, specifically to one small part of it in the middle of it. "See this? This is one of four symbols used to denote a leader of a group. And this mark above it indicates a lyric or song or...a chant. And this final piece of the symbol says that the rhythm of the chant will facilitate the timing of hand placement. It fits, Adam. This fits!"

"Do you think this is the missing link?"

"I do because it makes everything else fit. I can't know with certainty this is correct, but this pulls everything else very tightly together."

Miller asked Dr. Grayson to help him select his four team members. Intelligence was secondary to dexterity and oddly enough, a sense of rhythm. Two of the team members played musical instruments. Kelly Sharp had been a drummer in a boy band during high school. Kara Winslow played the violin and was quite good at it. That left two other team members who had athletic ability which required good timing. Jason Markel played racquetball, a game of precision timing and accuracy while Everett King was a very talented table tennis player. Another odd grouping of talent but Miller couldn't afford to bring anyone else—especially the government—in on this. This expedition was his and his alone.

After three days of brutal rehearsals, they were ready. The ate breakfast very early and by 6am they descended below the surface and stood at the metal wall. They sat down their rucksacks and waited.

Adam Miller asked his four assistants if they were ready. They all nodded. "Remember, stay calm. Stay relaxed. Tell yourself this is just another rehearsal and have fun. We've nailed this the last dozen times in a row. Let's move into position and we'll run through the sequence a few times without touching the wall."

Once in place Miller told them to visualize the exact spots on the wall where there hands should go. Whatever this wall—this, thing—was made of, they'd been unable to mark the locations for their hands with paint or tape or anything else. The good news was that the locations were very easy to find at the four corners. Miller quietly repeated the chant as everyone moved in sync with it. Each feigned placing a hand at the exact beat of the chant. Once all of them felt confident, Miller said, "Okay, folks. Let's do this."

He placed his right hand directly in the center of the wall then asked if everyone was in position. Four heads nodded. "All, right. Here we go."

Miller began repeating the sing-song cadence of the chant and one by one, exactly on cue, each hand went down perfectly in its appointed place. As the fourth hand was laid on the wall, a low-pitched sound was heard from what seemed like somewhere behind the wall. Miller told them to hold their places as the intensity of the vibrations increased. Just at the point when the human ear can take no more volume without passing out, an intense white light burst out from the wall engulfing Miller. The other four team members were rendered unconscious by the noise, and when they awoke several minutes later, Miller was nowhere to be found.

Miller was certain his eyes were open but the blackness was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It seemed—total. The logical part of his brain told him he was alive but the area subject to myth and superstition suggested to him he might be dead. Was there really a God and could this be hell? It was only seconds but the time seemed an eternity before the room began to gradually grow lighter.

Adam noted the room was roughly circular. There was a large, thick, sort of glass pane set over what looked like a control panel of some kind. To the left was a chamber which would hold one person inside. The rest of the room appeared to be some sort of databank and a power source.

Miller moved toward the glass pane. As he did, the interior illuminated and he saw what he thought was some sort of holographic image. It was of a man who was very old dressed in the traditional garments of the ancient Hebrews. Once the illumination was stable, the figure spoke. Miller recognized the image of the old man was speaking Hebrew, a language he couldn't speak but had heard thousands of times. Under his breath he muttered, "No hablo." The image paused then began speaking again, "Me llamo Methuselah. Yo tengo..."

Miller raised his voice and said, "Do you speak English?"

The image stopped then started again. "My name is Methuselah. I am 5,000 of your years old. I once walked among the people of earth with the children of Israel until I was not."

"I don't understand. What does that mean?"

"Like you, Adam Miller, I was transmutated from there...to here."

"Where is...here?" Miller asked.

"This is the Transmutational Portal for this universe, Adam Miller, and I am the sentinel of the Keepers."

"Who are the Keepers and what is it over which you're standing guard?"

"The Keepers are the Eternal Ones. They are the creators of the Multiverse."

"The Multiverse? Are you saying ours isn't only universe? Does this mean that the mathematical construct of other universes—the Multiverse—is correct?"

"There are universes without end, Adam Miller. They exist infinitesimally close to one another but they cannot be seen or known without the aid of Transmutation."

"What do you mean by infinitesimally close? How far apart are universes from one another?"

The old man said, "You are a scientist, Adam Miller. Therefore, you are familiar with the concepts of Planck Time and the Planck Length."

Miller was dumbfounded. If this meant what he thought it did, then the proximity of other universes was staggering small. There were trillions upon trillions of Planck Times in a single second. The exact number was 10^43, a number so small, no human mind could accurately visualize it. It was the smallest distance known to science. A Planck Time is the time required for light to travel, in a vacuum, a distance of 1 Planck length. Light travels at 186,000 miles per hour so... Even with a PhD in particle physics, Miller's head was spinning.

"Yes, of course," Miller responded.

"Within the space of one inch, there are trillions upon trillions upon trillions upon trillions of universes. And yet the number of universes is infinite meaning they cover the expanse of infinite space-time. Each is unique in that it vibrates at a specific frequency. Therefore, transmutation, which is alteration of the vibrational frequency of matter, is the only means of moving between them."

Miller wasn't interested in making a point so he ignored the term "infinite number" which was an oxymoron. Infinite wasn't a number. It was a concept. He ignored that and asked instead, "So how does this place, this...Transumational Portal...factor into all of this?"

"It is here that beings from one universe may be safely transmuted to any other universe. There is one such portal in each universe."

"Does that mean Earth is the only planet in this entire universe with life as we know it?"

"Indeed. Each universe has but one such planet. Life is brought to each new 'Earth' by the Keepers."

The origin of life. Each major religion had an origins myth. Science readily admitted it did not understand how life began. It was one of the great unknowns and accepted as a brute fact. But unlike religion, science didn't fill in the informational gap with God. There were natural causes as yet unknown to explain life's beginnings. The difficulty of the problem had led one of the two discovers of DNA (Watson and Crick) to posit a theory known as 'Panspermia' in which aliens brought life to earth. It was an end run around the incredible difficulties of the origin of life by natural causes but was soundly and roundly rejected as nonsense. Even if it were true, it still didn't answer the question of where that life came from. Another point Miller didn't need not be make. Miller inquired, "As a Hebrew, did you once believe the story of Adam and Eve?"

"Yes. It was the simplest way for the Keepers to explain the origin of life once it evolved to the point it developed human speech. The Keepers seed each world which is rich in oxygen and water with the simplest of life forms knowing they will eventually evolve a race of human beings as well as numerous other species of life."

"Okay. Let's assume all of this is true. Why would someone want to leave this universe and this Earth and his or her life to go to another universe and another Earth?"

"In search of fulfillment, Adam Miller. I am the guardian of fulfillment. I arrange for the transmutation of those who gain access to the Portal to the universe of their choice."

"You said there are an infinite number of universes. How could anyone narrow done a choice like that in a human lifetime?" Miller inquired of the image of the old man.

"The Keepers know that those who succeed in entering the Portal know what they most want from life but which is unavailable to them in their universe. That person need only input all such desires then enter the Transmutational Chamber. Because the number of universes is infinite, every possible variation of life in this universe exists in a parallel universe. One need only be able to articulate his or her needs. This is the gift of the Keepers."

Miller's head had been spinning. It was now on overload.

"How does this Chamber work? How do you actually transport someone from here to another universe?"

"The technology is beyond your ability—or mine—to grasp. The essence of transmutation is the infinitely rapid vibration of every fundamental particle in the human body until it reaches the frequency of the destination universe. That can only be achieved in this place."

Miller shook his head. "That sounds like something out of Star Trek."

"I have observed the evolution of mankind since my arrival here and I am familiar with the conceptual device to which you refer. One day, that kind of transportation will become possible. It will allow beings and objects to move within their own universe. However, it will never be possible to move outside of it and within the Multiverse by any other means than transmutation."

"I have a team outside. I need to communicate with them. Can you help me do that?"

"Upon entry into the Portal, re-entry to your world is forbidden. You must remain within it or be transmuted to the universe of your choice. You must soon be initially prepared or you will perish. Your molecular structure must be altered so that it can survive in this place. When you have selected your destination universe, you will be terminally prepared. A return to your former life is not permitted because the Keepers know that all those who enter here will be more fulfilled elsewhere. You, Adam Miller, are one such being."