The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(17)

I don’t know how to respond, so I just sit there, watching him pour us tea.

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Eugene says, placing the cup in front of me.

“You do have a gift for stating the obvious.”

“You said you came here to get answers. I promised I would provide them. What do you want to know?” he says, and my heart begins to pound with excitement as I realize I’m about to finally learn more about myself.

“How does it work?” I ask before he changes his mind and decides to test me some more. “Why can we phase into the Quiet?”

“Phase into the Quiet? Is that what you call Splitting?” He chuckles when I nod. “Well, prepare to be disappointed. No one knows for sure why we can do it. I have some theories about it, though. I’ll tell you my favorite one. How much do you know about quantum mechanics?”

“I’m no physicist, but I guess I know what a well-read layman should know.”

“That might be enough. I’m no physicist myself. Physics was my dad’s field, and really this is his theory. Have you ever heard of Hugh Everett III?”

“No.” I’ve never heard of the first two either, but I don’t say that to Eugene.

“It’s not important, as long as you’ve heard of the multiple universes interpretation of quantum mechanics.” He offers me sugar for my tea.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” I say, shaking my head to decline the sugar. Eugene sits across from me at the table, his gaze intent on mine. “It’s the alternative to the famous Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics, right?”

“Yes. We’re on the right track. Now, do you actually understand the Copenhagen interpretation?”

“Not really. It deals with particles deciding where to be upon observation with only a probability of being in a specific place—introducing randomness into the whole thing. Or something along those lines. Isn’t it famous for no one understanding it?”

“Indeed. I doubt anyone really does. Even my dad didn’t, which is why he said it was all BS. He would point out how the whole Schr?dinger’s cat paradox is the best example of the confusion.” As he talks, Eugene gets more and more into the conversation. He doesn’t touch his tea, completely immersed in the subject. “Schr?dinger meant for the cat theory to illustrate the wrongness, or at least the weirdness of that interpretation, which is funny, given how famous the cat example became. Anyway, what’s important is that Everett said there is no randomness. Every place a particle can be, it is, but in different universes. His theory is that there is nothing special about observing particles, or cats—that the reality is Schr?dinger’s cat is both alive and dead, a live cat in one universe and a dead one in another. No magic observation skills required. Do you follow?”

“Yes, I follow,” I say. Amazingly enough, I actually do. “I had to read up on this when we wanted to invest in a firm that was announcing advances in quantum computing.”

“Oh, good.” Eugene looks relieved. “That might expedite my explanation considerably. I was afraid I would have to explain the double-slit experiment and all that to you. You’ve also heard of the idea that brains might use quantum computing in some way?”

“I have,” I say, “but I’ve also read that it’s unlikely.”

“Because the temperatures are too high? And the effects are too short-lived?”

“Yeah. I think it was something along those lines.”

“Well, my dad believed in it regardless, and so do I. No one really knows for sure, wouldn’t you admit?” Eugene says.

I never really thought about it. It’s not something that was ever important to me. “I guess so,” I say slowly. “I read that there are definitely some quantum effects in the brain.”

“Exactly.” He takes a quick sip of tea and sets it aside again. I do the same. The tea is bitter and too hot, and I’m dying for Eugene to continue. “The unlikelihood that you mention is about whether consciousness is related to quantum effects. No one doubts that some kinds of quantum processes are going on in the brain. Since everything is made of subatomic particles, quantum effects happen everywhere. This theory just postulates that brains are leveraging these effects to their benefit. Kind of like plants do. Have you heard of that?”

“Yes, I have.” He’s talking about the quantum effects found in the process of photosynthesis. Mom—Sara—emailed me a bunch of articles about that. She’s very helpful that way—sending me articles on anything she thinks I might be interested in. Or anything she’s interested in, for that matter.

“Photosynthesis evolved over time because some creature achieved an advantage when using a quantum effect. In an analogous way, wouldn’t a creature able to do any kind of cool quantum calculations get a huge survival advantage?” he asks.

“It would,” I admit, fascinated.

“Good. So the theory is that what we can do is directly related to all this—that we find ourselves in another universe when we Split, and that a quantum event in our brains somehow makes us Split.” He looks more and more like a mad scientist when he’s excited, as he clearly is now.

“That’s a big leap,” I say doubtfully.

“Okay, then, let me go at it from another angle. Could brains have evolved an ability to do quick quantum computations? Say in cases of dire emergencies?”