Exciting Independent Research Opportunity

September 3rd

My feet slipped over pine needles as I trudged across the lawn. I was swerving and weaving and nearly spilling my coffee on the teenagers who didn’t mind cutting me off on the sidewalk. I was pretty sure I would be late now. The stop at the coffee shop had probably been too bold, but the symptoms of my hangover were certain to produce worse effects than being late. A crisp fall air was creeping across campus, and still I was sweating through my silly, tweed coat.

Dr. Roberts had mentioned at the last faculty meeting that he had some exciting new prospects on the matter of quantum entanglement, something about a discovery made by several Swiss scientists while studying abroad, and that he would be holding an open speculative lecture on the third. Open, meaning students were encouraged but not required, and all physics department faculty were encouraged and required. I had scoffed at the mention of yet another time-wasting lecture that should have been spent grading the mountain of exams gathering dust on my desk.

My mind remained fixed on all my unfinished work as I entered the lecture hall and tracked down Bill, a fellow underachiever of the physics department. Naturally, Dr. Roberts was running five minutes behind, and I chuckled that I ever worried about my own being late.

“How goes it, Bill?” I shed my thick coat and took my seat next to him in the front row.

“Ah, it goes, John, it goes,” he sleepily replied, head in hands.

To anyone else, his disheveled hair and wrinkled shirt might have seemed like an overt sign of laziness, but my keen eye knew it was a sign of working to exhaustion. The dismissal of two faculty members over the summer had left us egregiously underprepared and overworked for the fall. This was apparent by the emptiness of the lecture hall except for Bill, two biology professors, a handful of ass-kissing students, and me.

“Seems like the rest of the department decided not to come. I wish I had been so smart,” I whispered to Bill as Roberts noisily slid in through the side door. He pushed a squeaky projector cart in front of him. 

“Yeah, I guess we should have learned at the last one,” Bill yawned.

“You and me, we never learn,” I chuckled. “We’re as stubborn as they come.”

I nudged him with my elbow. He replied with a sort of moan in agreement and slow nodding.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Roberts announced enthusiastically. “My apologies for being late; I had to hunt down the projector.” He stood behind the podium now, adjusting something on the computer.

“I think you will all find this new information particularly interesting, especially to those of us in the field of physics,” he said, smiling and gesturing towards me and Bill, who now leaned back in his seat to appear more awake. I nodded in sarcastic agreement that, yes, I was also a physics professor. Just not the old, battle-hardened kind.

“I myself learned about these discoveries only a week ago, and I instantly knew that this was groundbreaking information for quantum entanglement,” Roberts said.

Roberts walked over to the wall and flipped the lights off, leaving us disoriented in the glow of the projector. The hangover still raging in my head was pleased at the relief from the light. The cover slide was simply a blank white background with “SWISS EVENT 2006” as the only element.

 How very descriptive, I thought.

“Now, you’ll notice on the slides I’ve only included images,” Roberts continued. “I decided it was easier for me to retell the information and use the pictures provided by Switzerland’s Particle Research Organization as visual evidence of the event. As some of you may know, research of quantum entanglement is an increasingly interesting and important subject in our field. Essentially, it reveals to us how all matter is connected across the universe,” his voice crescendoed with excitement and interest. “Many scientists, specifically some at Swiss PRO, believe that one day quantum entanglement might even reveal the answer to FTL travel, that is, faster-than-light travel, but also…” he gave an encouraging pause, like he expected an answer to his lack of question. “Time travel!” he encouragingly finished for us. An awkward pause hung in the air as I glanced at Bill, eyes almost shut, to see if he was just as thrilled as I was. Some of the teacher’s pets actively nodded to show their interest, while the biology professors showed no reaction to the subject at hand.

Roberts cleared his throat, craned his neck towards the projector screen, and with a click and point, the room darkened. The image on the screen showed an extremely dense pine forest at nighttime and completely covered in snow. Countless stars and a dazzling display of the Northern Lights illuminated the night sky. It was a beautiful image, almost like a computer screen saver or the image on a travel brochure.

“This is a forest in a remote part of Finland,” Roberts continued, now with an air of embarrassment at his own excitement. “This past April, Swiss PRO scientists were there researching some magnetic field anomalies that have long been documented in the region. It seems as though the Northern Lights may point to some answers about global magnetic fields and may be useful in employing Low Earth Orbit Satellites,” he trailed off, apparently pondering some other subject. I itched to get back to my office.

He continued, “But anyhow, over the course of two weeks they documented the light intensity and variations with a set of specialty equipment, one primary camera, and one backup camera.” The slide changed to an image of two telescope-looking objects that I hoped Roberts wouldn’t attempt to explain.

“These are the cameras,” he said reservedly. “I won’t waste your time explaining them.” He clicked to the next slide, which showed two identical, low-resolution images of the Northern Lights in the Finnish forest side by side. The image on the left was slightly dimmer than the one on the right, and the right one had a single pinprick of white light hovering among the trees. I leaned forward in my seat, squinted, and assessed the images like a game of spot-the-differences.

Roberts motioned to the image on the screen and continued, “Camera one captured the image on the left, while camera two captured the image on the right. It may not seem like much, but you may notice the small, white dot in the trees on the right.” He paused and smiled as he regained his excited attitude.

“Well, my friends,” he glanced at each of us in the room, hoping to impart his cheery interest. “That little white dot is the light of a flashlight,” he drew in a sharp breath. “As it was pointed away from the camera in the opposite direction…”

December 10th

Bill called the day before to tell me he was fired. He said it seemed like I should be expecting a call next, since “department downsizing” had been thrown around by the shmuck from administration. Although I agreed with him that I would most likely be cut, my worries about my future were purely financial. Rent was certainly not cheap in the quickly urbanizing college town, and then there was the pile of overdue medical bills. But I actually kind of relished the thought of leaving the back-breaking work behind. After all, I had only been teaching for around three years. I even thought I might find a job I somewhat enjoy.

The call came around 2 that afternoon.

December 25th

Dad and I sat in uncomfortable silence on the back porch. My skin burned from the coldness of the air, but the whiskey gave back a little warmth with each sip. It had been a bitterly cold winter, but not unexpectedly so. I tilted my head back and examined each star in the dark void, my mind on the emptiness that I knew my dad could feel too.

“I guess you had better be going soon,” he started.

I didn’t stop my examination to look at him.

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

“I don’t understand why you have to kill yourself at work like you do, John.”

I stared at him, knowing this time was no different. My circumstances had changed, but still, I couldn’t stay at home. I had already decided I wouldn’t tell him I’d been laid off. It would be another reason that I should move back home, and there was no way in hell I would suffocate in that house.

“And you probably never will. I don’t know why you still ask.”

“It worries me,” he pleaded. “You’re all I’ve got, and I can tell you need a break.”

“This is a break, isn’t it?” I said earnestly. For a while I had found his concerns annoying, but now I genuinely wanted to console him. I know it must have taken a toll on him being all alone.

He just sighed and looked away towards the night sky.

"Someone has to pay Mom's bills. They don't just disappear after-" I trailed off, wishing I could put the words back in my mouth. Paying them wasn't a burden to me, but I lived in fear of making it seem like it was. My Dad deserved to keep his pride after years of struggling to keep us from drowning.

Later, after Dad had gone to bed, I tossed and turned in the frumpy twin-size bed from my childhood. I was a little distracted by the uncertainty I would face once I left and returned to my depressing, empty apartment, but mostly the whiskey had just upset my stomach. Accepting that I would not be sleeping, I decided to check my email for any updates on prospective jobs.

I sat at the computer desk and squinted through the white light. As my account loaded, only one new email popped up. It wasn’t a reply to any of my dozens of job applications, but an email from Dr. Roberts. The subject read “Exciting Independent Research Opportunity”.

March 21st

My knees ached as I pulled my feet to my waist with each step. I clumsily cradled the loose branches I had chopped and tried my best not to topple over in the snow. Eventually I reached the tent and, exhausted as I was, threw myself inside and onto the tarped floor. After several minutes in the fetal position, I finally mustered every ounce of energy to kneel and reseal the tent door. With it, I shut out the strange and disorienting midnight sun.

The thick tarp kept all the light out, and I had become accustomed to spending my days with the dim haze of the wood stove. It’s not like there was much to see or do outside of the tent other than freeze my ass off or stare at trees. It was boring and lonely inside the tent too, but at least there was food and a minimal selection of books, journals, and random CDs. Over the course of two long months, I had read the entire Bible and listened to Purple Rain Deluxe Edition at least a hundred times. Sincerely, these were my most entertaining options besides talking to Roberts. Outside of the tasks required for my station and what was necessary for sustainment, and especially in my eventual solitude, I quickly realized entertainment was more important than I thought.

Roberts had now been gone for at least a week based on my rough estimate. With the long days of sunlight and lack of watch (which he had taken or hidden), it was pretty much impossible to confidently track the days. My “daily” routine kept me from completely freaking out after I realized he might not be back anytime soon. I chopped wood, kept the solar panels clear, prepared my meals on the stove, and made sure the cameras were running fine.

Gathering my bundle of sticks from the floor, I finally stood and tossed them next to the stove. My aching body begged for a rest on my cot. I threw myself down, turned on my side, and began looking through my trinket collection for something to distract myself with. Once again, I was drawn to the little white notecard, perfectly folded, and suspiciously pristine compared to the rest of my effects. I unfolded it and read it, hoping that its words would be different now, but knowing that it would still say the same thing.

JOHN,

I’VE GOT TO GO FOR NOW – KEEP GOING, WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T LET THE CAMERAS DIE

-R