Many Moons

A Demonstration

Holding my one page summary on the workings of the universe, Dr. Epping smiled, sat further back in his chair and snorted.

"Prove it."

I thought about how best to do this and, again, settled on simplicity.

"If there are unlimited universes, and each of these contains a variant of something I did and didn't do, and something you did and didn't do, with every choice and every possible outcome in existence simultaneously, all I need to do is pick the outcome I want for me and it will happen because it already has happened."

"So you can make things happen for us as well?" asked Dr. Salarico.

"Yes and no. I don't make things happen as much as I simply notice them in my current reality and most of the time that means everyone around me can see them too. You, within the framework of your dimension, will see what I have manifested through observation in my dimension, but keep in mind that each and every nanosecond we are in different dimensions. Where we go and what we see is up to us. So if you want to see what I can manifest, then you will."

"This sounds like a bunch of crap." Agent Necessiter blurted. "You can make things happen but we'll never know it unless we want to know it?"

"Something like that." I explained. "I think people already do it all the time but don't realize it, writing it off as a coincidence."

"Son, you are in a locked room, on the fourteenth floor of a federal building—"

"Thirteenth floor." I corrected.

"— Surrounded by people with guns. If you can make things happen like you say, why don't you escape?"

"I will in a minute. But first I thought I'd help you out. Why don't you ask for something small?"

"A butterfly." Agent Necessiter said. "Make a butterfly appear in this room right now."

I closed my eyes for a minute and imagined a butterfly. A beautiful Monarch with black highlights and intricate, delicate wings. I imagined it fluttering around the conference room and thought how wonderful it would be to have a butterfly like that exist in my life. How grateful I would be to see it. And how wondrous it would be for everyone else to see it too.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around the room but did not see a butterfly. I looked for the obvious signs, a picture or a magazine that might have a butterfly in it. The only thing in the room besides people and furniture was an eight by twelve picture of the president staring down at us, looking both regal and smug.

That left the people.

The old men weren't likely choices, and Necessiter wouldn't have handed me an easy victory. So I looked at the only obvious answer.

"Ms. Parminder."

"Yes?" She was looking at her notes, avoiding eye contact.

"Do you have any tattoos?" I asked.

Ms. Parminder looked at the agent, who nodded. She stood and unfastened her belt. Then she unhooked her slacks and unzipped them, modest and embarrassed. She lifter her white blouse, pulled down her black slacks, and had to lower the hem of her light blue, silk underwear to reveal her tattoo.

Clearly the men in the room, myself included, were interested in the outcome. But it was also disappointing when the butterfly tattoo was finally revealed and the clothes were reassembled.

"That's bullshit." Said Necessiter. "You knew she had a tattoo."

"You picked the image." I reminded him. "And I've never met Ms. Parminder before."