When they came to a stop outside Isogai’s room, the loud clamoring of voices sounded through the door. As Kato had said, they were definitely excited about something. It appeared as though they were in the middle of some sort of debate, but Hashiba couldn’t pick up on the content.
He opened the door and the two of them looked over. Isogai pitched across the room, almost tripping in his excitement.
“You were looking into cases of people going missing, right?”
“Certainly.” Hashiba felt disappointed. Why would he be asking about that now? Surely that was irrelevant at this point. That was why Isogai was here in the first place, to help them finish the program on mysterious disappearances after the death of Shigeko Torii, to eschew the paranormal for a more scientific approach.
“Could you show me the information you’ve collected so far?”
Hashiba saw something in Isogai’s eyes that spurred him to agree to his request. He saw a dim flicker of light mixed in among the despair, a sliver of hope. It had to be a good sign, maybe he’d thought of something to stop this after all …
Hashiba collected the file from his room and handed to Isogai a summary of all the information they had collated on the disappearances at Takato, Itoikawa, and Atami. It even had details on the Californian cases they had come across. Each case was mapped for its physical proximity to tectonic fault lines and linked to recordings of heightened sunspot activity with visual aids.
Isogai took the file from Hashiba and began to scan the contents without even taking the time to walk back into the room. He paged rapidly through, as though trying to confirm something, then started to explain something to Chris in rapid English before asking his opinion. Chris’ eyes darted back and forth as he replied, and he spoke so quickly that Hashiba could see tiny bubbles of spit forming on the side of his mouth. When the two seemed to reach a conclusion, Chris sat shaking his head, his eyes betraying a mix of hope and fear. Hashiba had heard them mention the name Jack Thorne a number of times.
“Just who is Jack Thorne?” he blurted, his frustration at not being able to fully understand the conversation beginning to boil over.
Isogai stopped mid-sentence, surprised at Hashiba’s outburst. He stared blankly for a moment, then, oddly, winked. The gesture was so unnatural that Hashiba didn’t immediately recognize it. Isogai’s nose twisted and his mouth hung half open as one side of his face wrinkled together with the movement. As he registered it as a wink, Hashiba began to wonder if Isogai had actually begun to lose it. When he spoke, however, his tone was calm and focused.
“As we know, scientific advisors to the U.S. President are currently gathering the world’s top minds in physics and mathematics and bringing them to Washington. One of them is Jack Thorne. When I first learned that he was included in the roundup, I was a little surprised to say the least. His field is almost classical — gravitational theory. The rest are all cutting-edge theorists in fields related to quantum mechanics. He stands out like a sore thumb, so we started to look into possible reasons for his inclusion. Then we saw exactly the words we were looking for. Turns out he specializes in the study of black holes and, more importantly, wormholes.”
Hashiba knew more about black holes than the latter. “And again, a wormhole is?”
“Essentially, it’s like a shortcut to another universe.” There was something jarring about the casualness with which Isogai said it. A shortcut to another universe? He glanced at his watch, purposely avoiding Hashiba’s gaze. “We’ve got no time to lose, we can’t waste anymore time explaining this.”
“I don’t care how much time we’ve got or haven’t got. Look, you guys know what’s going on, this is your thing. But I have no idea. I just want to know what the hell’s waiting for us.”
Isogai was taken aback by Hashiba’s uncharacteristic forcefulness. He pressed his left hand against his forehead, seemingly a habit when he felt flustered, and began to explain.
“A wormhole is as the name suggests. It’s like a hole through the ground. In terms of general relativity, it’s also known as an Einstein-Rosen Bridge — a fitting name since the concept of a bridge is more accurate than a hole. The idea is that the universe we know is not unique, that in fact there are countless numbers of universes, all existing on top of each other. That’s what Jack Thorne believes, anyhow. A wormhole links these separate universes together. Wormholes are like bridges, except that they only function in one direction. Once you cross the threshold, wherever you end up is your new home. There’s no coming back.”
“I see. Actually, I still have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, but I kind of see. Whatever. There’s multiple universes, and these wormholes link them. How does this relate to the phase transition?”
“If Washington has included Jack Thorne on their list it can only mean one thing. They’re looking for wormholes. His belief is that a side effect of a phase transition is the simultaneous emergence of wormholes in the fabric of space. Think of wormholes as bubbles that appear when a phase transition in water causes it to boil and turn to its gaseous state. Any organisms in the water will be carried upwards, taken with the water as it makes the transition. Don’t picture these wormholes as tunnels. They’re more like bubbles that resemble black holes.” Isogai raised his finger at the end.
“Okay, and?”
“Washington must have accepted that there’s nothing they can do to stop the phase transition. We’re essentially helpless to stop our universe from undergoing the change. The only course of action left, a last desperate attempt to do something, would be to try and escape. To abandon our universe in search of another.”
“You’re saying that they’re trying to find these wormholes?”
“Exactly. There’s no other way to survive this.”
Hashiba felt that he finally understood the glimmer of hope he had seen in the two men’s eyes when he had first entered the room. “Where will the wormholes open?”
“Only in a few locations. A few, very specific locations.”
“And you think that Washington knows these locations?”
“Washington?” Isogai laughed. “I’d say they have no idea.”
“And you know this and they don’t because …?”
“Because,” Isogai smiled, “they haven’t got an expert on mysterious cases of people gone missing.” He repeated the sentence in English to Chris, who laughed, weakly.
Hashiba and Kato exchanged glances, the humor lost on them. Hashiba felt a surge of blood rush to his head; he was finding it hard to concentrate. Isogai was waiting for a reaction but none came.
“Come on, don’t you see?” he exclaimed impatiently. “We’ve been standing right next to the pot of gold without even seeing it! Right now, we’re probably the only people in the whole world able to guess exactly where the wormholes will appear.”
Hashiba’s confusion began to clear away, replaced by the beginnings of understanding. He felt momentarily overwhelmed, unable to speak. He clasped his hands in a ball, and his knuckles whitened as his body began to release the nervous tension that had been building up inside him.
“You’ve been following these mysterious disappearances. And where did they go missing? Near tectonic plates, near local magnetic disturbances — all the factors you’ve racked up and linked together.” Isogai rolled up the papers and slapped them against the edge of the table.
“They were all sucked into wormholes? Is that what you’re saying?”
Isogai nodded excitedly. “Although not sucked into, to be precise. More like carried through, into another universe. It’s obvious now. When you tapped me to work as scientific advisor for your program, I read the information you provided and was pretty much in agreement about the combination of physical factors that had resulted in the disappearances. One thing didn’t gel, however. Why was it that only people vanished? The Fujimuras’ house, the convenience store, nothing vanished apart from humans, right? Everything else remained: the building itself, the stock …