Into the Manifold

Chapter One: Zyz

"What are the limitations? We don't have infinite computational resources....we want the simulations to be quantum, which means that there is not just one single path of evolution from one point to another, there are an infinite number of paths, some are more important than others, and therefore there's another type of infinity that we have to implement in our simulations in order to get the answer right."

Dr. Zohreh Davoudi, Assistant Professor, Department of Physics, University of Maryland

—

It was a quiet thing that woke her. The waves against the cliff-sides were melodic, something that helped her sleep even as they roared below the lighthouse. The sea had become white noise to her, so the sound of something mechanical caused her to stir. Upright in her bed, with the faint light of dawn crawling out through the mouth of the bay, she listened. It was a faint thing, only a whisper between the swells. She wrapped a blanket around herself and went to the window.

A freighter? she wondered, scanning the waters all the way to the horizon. But there were no vessels that morning, not even the faint outline of one appearing from the edge of the ocean. As she strained to find the odd noise, she heard the peculiar sounds she had grown accustomed to as though she were hearing them for the first time—the way the wind whistled through the gaps in the old glass windows, the flap of the warped shingles on the storage shack, the buzz of the electrical wiring routed in the wall next to her bedside.

And yet the new sound—an odd, persistent hum—somehow overwhelmed everything else. She flexed her jaw and yawned, wondering if it was merely a ringing in her ears, perhaps an artifact of growing old. Yet the sound remained. She pulled back the curtains and scanned the grounds below, but it was difficult to determine where the sound was coming from. She slipped into a pair of flats, adjusted the blanket around her, and walked downstairs.

The first floor was only a single room—quaint, twenty square meters—and was always cold in the morning. The old stone walls retained little heat, and the pitted windows could barely keep even the slightest breeze at bay. There was nothing of significance through the windows. Just the quiet, chilly mornings she had grown to love on this little outcropping of sea rocks.

The ancient, refurbished coffee machine in her kitchen, having sensed her presence in the room, whirred to life, startling her. It was an odd morning. Everything seemed out of place. The sounds of the lighthouse, the way her coffee machine had started off-schedule due to her early rise, the eerie sense something had changed. She wrapped her blanket around herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. As the last drops of coffee plopped from the machine, she grabbed the mug, savoring its warmth. She was beginning to wonder if it had just been remnants of some strange dream that was slowly beginning to fade. But then she heard it—between a brief lull in the swells, the quiet hum revealed itself once more.

She paced around the room, realizing that the sound was loudest near the front door. She opened it, stepping through the frame as soon as the cold air crashed in. But something was there, hanging just in front of the doorway.

"Jesus," she cried out, coffee sloshing out of her mug. A small orb, its chrome surface reflecting her face, hung in the air. She recognized it instantly—a messenger drone.

She leaned against the doorway, catching her breath. Her heart was racing. She felt more awake than what was left of the coffee could do for her.

"Incoming message for Dr. Zyz," the drone read out, its voice smooth and artificial.

"Who sent you?" Zyz demanded.

"Jupiter Enterprises," the drone replied. She saw her expression change in the warped reflection of the orb. She heaved a sigh. Her mind felt clouded, the hum of the drone refusing to let her think clearly.