“Anyway, we’re certainly not going to be able to work out the causes here tonight. Causes aside, we know that the wave itself is a form of information, and as such, according to the principles of General Relativity, it would be impossible for the wave to travel faster than the speed of light. Unfortunately, this clearly highlights something of a paradox for us. Can you see what it is?” Isogai stared directly at Hashiba, sure that if any of the laymen could work it out, it would be Hashiba.
To everyone’s surprise, it was Kagayama that answered. “If information can’t travel faster than the speed of light, then there wouldn’t be any warning.”
Isogai regarded Kagayama with a look of surprise. He held up a finger. “Exactly right. It’s therefore theoretically impossible for us to observe a phase transition happening before it actually hits us. Nonetheless, we seem to have had some warning.”
“So it must be something else then,” Hosokawa whispered, a flicker of hope crossing his face.
“There are known gaps in space-time. I think it’s more likely that some of the information from the phase transition managed to slip through one of these. Let’s say, for example, that we are going to boil some water. As the water nears boiling point, bubbles begin to rise to the surface. These bubbles are a sign of the water’s upcoming phase transition. In water, the bubbles rise directly upwards. But if you put anything in the way, they zigzag around it and continue to make their way up through the water. The same applies to the transmission of information in space; it doesn’t necessarily follow a straight path. The supposition that all space is uniform has already been disproven. You may have heard of the idea of a ‘wormhole’: a point that theoretically connects two disparate areas of space. The areas can be as far as thousands of millions of light-years apart. In other words, the universe is potentially full of shortcuts that we can’t see. If so, it’s equally possible that pockets of information from the phase transition traveled through these shortcuts, causing the disappearances of people and matter that we’ve been seeing. That fits with what we know so far.” Isogai turned to Hashiba. “The file you put together shows links between where people went missing and the presence of tectonic fault lines and localized geomagnetic disturbances. You also highlighted the link between the time of the events and increased sunspot activity. It could be that the combination of such factors, maybe overlapped with other physical factors we haven’t noticed, created the conditions necessary to allow an alternate path for the ‘bubbles’ of information coming our way.”
So the disappearances had been warnings of what was to come. Bubbles of information had somehow found their way to Earth through distortions in space-time, dissolving whatever happened to be in the way, as signs of the looming catastrophe. Isogai’s explanation was a logical summation of Hashiba’s gut feeling.
Hashiba thought back to the phenomena they’d witnessed. First, the human disappearances. Then, sometime later, huge swaths of land had just vanished. The same could happen over the Itoikawa-Shizuoka Line, and it could happen at any time. What would happen if that chasm in California were reproduced down the middle of Japan? Honshu would be ripped effectively in two, causing mass flooding and the formation of two separate islands.
Despite all that was going on, Hashiba still found that the journalist in him was thinking of the potential scoop he had on his hands. If they were the only group in the world that actually understood what was happening, it was the chance of a lifetime. The issue, of course, was how long they had left. If there were even just a few months until the catastrophe hit, then there would be time enough to enjoy the fruits of success. If it was just a few days, well, there was hardly time to announce the revelation, let alone gain any recognition for it.
“Does it look like any of the news agencies have worked this out?” Hashiba asked Isogai for his opinion.
“I’m not sure about the mass media. Maybe some other researchers or scientists have got this far. The researchers at CERN, almost certainly. Some of the observatories are probably getting close too. So, yes, it’s probably just a matter of time until this gets to the mass media. It’s a kind of irony, you know, but this could be a once-in-a-lifetime scoop for you.”
Hashiba looked away, annoyed that Isogai had read his thoughts. “That comes down to how much time we still have.” The first of the disappearances they knew of had taken place just over a year ago. Even if the phase transition’s arrival was now inevitable, Hashiba couldn’t help hoping that they still had time left.
Isogai continued, “Do you know of the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein? One of his well-known lines reads, ‘It is an hypothesis that the sun will rise tomorrow: and this means that we do not know whether it will rise.’ Unfortunately, I get the feeling that the time has come for that to be tested.” It was as though he wanted to deny Hashiba his one hope.
Isogai turned his attention back to the laptop screen and scanned the contents of the pages Chris had pulled up, eyes darting back and forth, digesting the data with computer-like speed. “Do you agree with this? It’s speeding up?”
“It’s conclusive,” Chris replied. “If it continues at this pace, then it won’t be long until the wave reaches the speed of light. It might even overtake it. The inflation directly after the Big Bang spread much faster than the speed of light, so it’s definitely possible. It just means that Einstein’s General Relativity is going to be the next model to collapse.”
Even without reading the screen it was obvious that events had taken an unsettling turn. Hashiba’s mind raced, his thoughts accelerated by the adrenalin running through his system. “If the wave overtakes the speed of light, what happens then?”
“Then it’s Wittgenstein’s time. We won’t live to see New Year’s, maybe not even sunrise.”
Hashiba’s throat had gone dry. He stood up and started pacing the room. Kato wore an odd smile; he sat scratching his head. Hosokawa was looking frantically around the room. Kagayama ran for the bathroom and threw up.
Isogai went on, paying no attention to the reactions. “If the phase transition breaches the speed of light, then it would become impossible to estimate the time of its arrival. The end would come suddenly, even while the light from the stars in the Milky Way shines in the sky. Complete meltdown with no warning.” He took a deep breath and looked around the room as though urging everyone to prepare themselves for the inevitable. “In other words, the world could end before I finish this sentence.” Isogai stopped short, looking both defiant and resigned.
The room was quiet as everyone almost forgot to breathe.
Hashiba could feel his heart thumping in his chest. It echoed in his head like the tolling of a bell, a countdown until … Hashiba shuddered at the thought. The world really could end at any moment. The entire planet and all life on it could just cease to be.
Isogai’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “Sorry, I don’t mean to frighten anyone …”
Hashiba tried to relax the tension in his body, reminding himself of his responsibilities as a member of the press. He could clearly guess the public reaction; it was clear just by the reactions of everyone in the room. If the mass media began a countdown to doomsday, there would be a descent into mass panic. Hashiba decided that if the end was coming, he wanted to face it quietly. The last thing he wanted was an unsightly, panicked end.
“So, it looks like we don’t have much time left. I suggest you should all deal with any business you have.” Isogai paused, looking around the blank faces in the room. No one reacted. He continued, his tone urging. “If you leave now you can probably make it home. It might be your last chance to see your families. For better or for worse I don’t have any family to go to. My only true friend is right here with me.”