Chapter 53 — Second Chances
The Curve of Time, Chapter 53 —— Second Chances, in which Sasakia and Mica talk about do-overs.
Followed by Rufus musing on the importance of stopping to smell the flowers.
Listen to full episode :
— 53 —
Second Chances
They were sitting in the claw-footed tub in Saskia’s bathroom as Saskia traced the gridlines of an imaginary surface through the soap suds she’d just lathered on Mica’s back. The discussion with Wassily two days ago hadn’t exactly seeded tension, but their love-making this evening had been imbued with a touch of make-up sex, and it had been great. It had settled Saskia’s mind and she now enjoyed the way the parallel lines that her four fingers plowed across Mica’s shoulder blade gave body to the manifold that Saskia imagined there.
Mica idly ran her hand along the outside of Saskia’s smooth leg, gently hugging her inner thigh towards her own hips. “You know, after you left, Wassily suggested that the universe——that maybe the only thing it preserves is topological invariance; the macro details of space-time.”
“Mmmm-hmmmmm.” Saskia inhaled Mica’s hair. “So suggested the topologist.”
“Sure, but have you ever noticed any differences? Living through the same scene a second time?”
Indeed Saskia had, and, despite her mocking Wassily’s comment, she’d wondered the same thing. Two manifolds were said to be topologically equivalent if one could be continuously deformed into the other without being cut or torn and without glueing points together that hadn’t already been touching——it was a proxy for retaining their global structure.
Perhaps, when reliving an event, and provided that Saskia made only insignificant alterations——alterations that didn’t ripple out into wider implications; Wassily’s preservation of topological invariance——perhaps, it was exactly, in such cases, that she avoided branching into another timeline.
The framework made sense, both of her general inability to change the past, and also of her self-duplication in the restroom at Cleo’s, since in the latter case she had been actively trying to force a change in the world.
“Saskia?” Mica turned her head about.
Saskia shrugged.
“Any differences? When you’ve relived the same event from two sides.”
“Little differences.” Saskia feigned hesitation. “It’s not easy to recall how you lived it through each pass. But I’m pretty sure I’ve never been word perfect.”
“So, how would that square with Newcomb’s paradox? The one that said if time travel exists then there is no free will.”
“Beats me.” Saskia let her fingers slip into the grooves between Mica’s ribs, and followed them under her arm. Her index finger grazed the cup of Mica’s right breast. It was a distraction from the uncomfortable proximity their conversation had trodden towards her doppelganger.
Mica leaned back into Saskia. “Maybe you do have free will, but only within certain boundaries? The universe can be slightly perturbed, but not substantially altered.”
Saskia glided her left hand around Mica’s other side. It slid under her right hand and together they settled over Mica’s abdomen. It bothered her that the free will she felt she had might only be a local illusion. Especially, because it certainly felt as though she could really do as she pleased ... but maybe that wasn’t true. “Maybe our perception of the world, and our place in it——maybe it’s off...”
It was that feeling of impotence that everyone had experienced: that perception, that no matter how hard you tried, your fate was somehow sealed. The Kafka-esque feeling that the world’s bureaucracies, for instance, had a will of their own, and that their will would always triumph. That it was impossible to get out of the DMV in under two hours. It wasn’t a very growth mindset.
Notwithstanding the existence of her double, though, Saskia had tried and failed to stop the oil spill.
“When you won the lottery . . . ” Mica started, but trailed off, as Saskia’s hands drifted apart, each coming to rest on Mica’s hips.
“Yes?” Saskia prompted.
Again, Mica turned to face Saskia. “You didn’t actually go back and change anything——about your actions in the past. Did you?”
Saskia turned her head from side to side, slowly at first in a knee-jerk response, but continuing as consideration confirmed her gut impulse.
“You just used your future knowledge and bought the ticket,” Mica confirmed. “Maybe you had already won the lottery when you saw those numbers come up, while you were standing in the park opposite the store.”
“But I didn’t feel anything,” Saskia objected.
“Why would you? You hadn’t experienced it yet——the second you was a consciousness after the you waiting in the park. The park you had no memory of the older you buying the ticket.”
“But . . . the park me, was the native me.”
“Maybe. Are you the native you now? What does ‘native you’ mean once you start slipping in time?” She left an opening for Saskia, but when no response came she continued herself: “Whatever, the park you wasn’t the you that watched the lottery numbers come good. You only get to see it once that way. It’s like the first time you see El Cap; who’s to say it wasn’t until the second time you watched the draw that you experienced it that way? Why would it have to be your first run through that you understood the meaning?”
“I guess not. That me was watching on my couch, at home. Though seeing El Cap”——Saskia’s eyes dilated just thinking about the vertical rock formation in Yosemite——“it would be hard not to get it the first time.”
Mica patted Saskia’s hand that was resting on her left hip. “Alright, my turn to do your back. Scoot forward.” And before Saskia could protest that she was happy the way things were, Mica stood up, scooted Saskia forward, and splashed her way to where Saskia had been seated.
“Very smooth,” Saskia laughed at her.
With her index finger, Mica started a long arcing curve at the nape of Saskia’s neck.
Saskia closed her eyes, relishing Mica’s touch. She imagined that Mica’s curve was her lifeline. Long and languidly looping down and around her waist, until the titillation of Mica’s touch on her inner thigh was outstripped when the path of her finger crossed itself. At that moment Saskia flashed back to the times that she’d bumped into an earlier version of her own self. “I guess park-me hadn’t bought the ticket yet,” she said.
“Right, even though you’d just watched the draw. Your consciousness lives on your lifeline and it just moves forward along it. It’s like Wassily explained.”
Saskia smiled that Mica had taken Wassily on as her teammate.
“Time-traveling-you can’t recall anything you’re yet to ‘live’.”
“And me-me is the point on the curve that divides my life into history and future. Except that I’m a 3D slice——the me I’m experiencing.”
“You know, Jeff said that some professor at MIT claimed the universe bends towards improbable events in order to prevent impossible ones from happening.”
“Wait, who’s Jeff?” Saskia frowned and craned her head about.
“My AI assistant.” Mica grinned back at Saskia. “I changed his name, remember? No reason he had to be a she.”
Mica’s pronoun predilections came flooding back, but Saskia’s mind had already returned to the improbable events. “So when I hit my head in Dallas——”
“We shouldn’t have been surprised. Improbable prevented impossible: no time travel paradox.”
“Meaning, I tripped on a step and put myself into a coma to prevent me from talking to Zeno.” Saskia relaxed and slumped back into Mica’s body. “Intervention left to the last minute to give me every chance to change my mind.”
“Neat theory, huh.”
The thought of “every chance to change her mind” jogged Saskia’s mind, and she recalled an interview she’d once heard with the survivor of a plane crash. The guy had talked about how in the moments before impact he’d been struck by an incredible clarity. It was a quasi-religious experience for him, but, instead of god, the promise he made in that instant was to the people who populated his life; to embrace them like never before, should he live. Looking down at Mica’s toes Saskia decided it was time to open up. To admit that she could duplicate herself. “Maybe if I’d been less cautious when I was in Texas——if I’d just blurted it out——maybe I’d have forced the universe to split into another timeline.”
Mica hugged Saskia tight. “And I wouldn’t have you here, now.”
Saskia was about to admit that she had seen one of her doubles before, but Mica stole the moment——
“I’m not convinced you can split timelines. Not at will, at least. But we could test it, with another lottery win. You gave your money away after all.” Mica grinned at Saskia.
Saskia protested that she had already proved this could be done.
“You did it once,” Mica retorted. “And sample size one proves nothing. Besides, it’s not really clear you changed anything.”
Saskia held Mica’s arms to her chest. “I proved it’s not not possible.”
“You should go back and try to win, after the winner has already been announced.” Mica was asking for an olive branch. “I can check with my contact at the lotteries office to see who won today’s draw. You can go back and try to change that win.”
“Sounds dangerous.” Saskia smiled at Mica and gave her a squeeze. “You’re on.”
That was chapter 53, Friends, I hope you enjoyed it!
Rereading it, I was struck by Saskia and Mica’s exploration of the dichotomy between Saskia’s very early effort to win the lottery (by turning the clock back), and her failed effort to staunch the flow of oil on the Deepwater Black Gold rig. It got me reflecting on how following your curiosity can lead to unexpected places.
It also got me thinking about how important it is to stop and smell the flowers. Sometimes such stops add color to your world, or indeed the world you’re conjuring up, but sometimes those little side trails turn out to be shortcuts. Sometimes, they even become the cornerstone of scientific research, revealing entirely new territories to be explored; the discovery of penicillin comes to mind. Of course, you’ll never know if you don’t stop and look.
Something I’ve always found a little funny, and kind of awkward, is how this connects with research grant applications. There’s a strange dance to be done when seeking funding to discover something new. Sure, you can talk about the hypotheses your experiments will test, but if inadvertent stumbling into novel outcomes is part of the process, then it’s a bit hard to promise. I guess that’s why reputation matters so much, at least if you believe lightning is more likely to strike twice in the same place.
For now, we’ll just have to wait a week to see if Saskia can induce a second such lottery win.
Until next week, be kind to someone and keep an eye out for the ripples of joy you’ve seeded.
Cheerio
Rufus
PS. If you think of someone who might enjoy joining us on this experiment, please forward them this email. And if you are one of those someone’s and you’d like to read more
