There is no problem with changing the course of history – the course of history does not change because it all fits together like a jigsaw.

- Douglas Adams

„The Restaurant at the End of the Universe“

The air in the office today seemed thicker than usual. Only part of that was due to the weather outside. In front of Mr Tuniak, two books were lying on the desk. They were exactly alike, as far as I could tell. They were about early Cultures in the Polynesian Triangle. But for the moment Mr Tuniak ignored those books. He was staring at some point in front of him, a point only he could see.

„I tried to ignore my little midnight talk with Alice at first“, he said. „The idea of travelling through time and actively changing the course of history was something I had never considered before.“

„Because of the risks? Because of unforseeable consequences?“, I asked.

„No, it... simply didn't occur to me“, he said. „It would be as if someone would ask you why you used your car for driving instead of flying. That's how strange the idea seemed to me.“

„Really?“

Mr Tuniak shrugged. „I know it is difficult for you to imagine, I can understand that. But it was different for me. Maybe, because I had grown up travelling through time.“

„Even as a child you never ever tried something like... like writing a message on a wall and coming back several years later to check if it was still there?“

Mr Tuniak had to think for a bit before he answered. „One can argue that any time travel is automatically changing history. The simple fact for instance that I exchanged a few words with a Roman seer for instance, means that the seer talked to someone he wouldn't have talked to otherwise. But that's not really changing the course of history.“

„It isn't? Don't small changes eventually lead to bigger ones, like the proverbial butterfly who's beating his wings?“

„No, it doesn't work that way.“

The week after their midnight talk seemed to be like any other week before it. Alice and Alexander saw each other every day, which was unavoidable since they lived in the same house. But neither of them made any reference to what had happened that night. On the surface they both ignored the discussion they had had.

But in his head, especially before he went to sleep, when his thoughts were free and unburdened by anything else, Alexander thought about the question Alice had posed him at the end.

Exactly seven days had passed, when Alice once again was lying on the sofa in front of the fire place. She was alone and again music was coming from a speaker. As before the fire was the only source of light and heat in the room.

Alexander had gone to his room, but when he couldn't fall asleep, he returned to the sitting room. Everyone else in the villa was already sleeping.

Alexander looked silently at Alice. Her eyes were closed, so she hadn't noticed him when he entered. She only opened them, when he stopped the music.

„You cannot change history“, Alexander said, continuing their discussion as if they had never stopped it.

„Are you sure?“, Alice said back.

He sat down on the sofa next to her. „Imagine the whole of history, the flow of time, if you will, as one huge river“, he said. „Not only the history of mankind, the whole history of the universe. A time traveller would be like a little stone thrown from the banks.“

„A stone that creates waves when it hits the surface?“, Alice asked.

„Yes“, Alexander agreed. „At first, you will see the waves. But the further they spread, the smaller they become. Looking at the river from the opposite bank, you wouldn't be able to see them any more at all. And if you wait a few minutes, maybe even less, the river will have returned to the state it had been before.“

Alice frowned. „History would go back to its former state on its own?“

Alexander wanted to say „yes“ to this. He knew that, if he did, their discussion would be at an end and they would probably never return to it. But he also knew that he would be lying to her then. And he didn't want to lie.

„Pretty much“, he said instead, hoping that Alice would be satisfied with that.

But, predictably, she asked immediately: „What does that mean?“

„Time, or history, would take another... road to get to the same destination“, Alexander explained. „Juliette explained it to me once, but I didn't really pay much attention. It's got something to do with... well, any change in history uses up energy. But since there's not an infinite amount of energy in the universe, history will always take the path that needs the least of it.“

„Are you making this up?“, Alice asked skeptically.

„No“, Alexander answered. „As far as I understand it, that is the truth.“

For a time they were sitting quietly nex to each other, neither of them willing to break the silence. Finally, Alice said: „So you can change history.“

Alexander let out a deep sigh. That was not the reaction he had hoped for.

„We had several more talks like this one, most of them in the middle of the night“, Mr Tuniak said. „Alice wouldn't let her idea go and I resisted only half heartedly, because I too was fascinated by the possibilities. Fascinated and tempted. But it remained a theoretical discussion, because for me the risk of unforseeable consequences was too great. What if I had misunderstood the nature of time? What if small changes did lead to huge consequences?“

„Couldn't you have asked your mothers?“, I said. „Or Juliette?“

„No.“ Mr Tuniak was shaking his head. „They would have guessed the purpose behind my question immediately. And they would have stopped me. My mothers – and Juliette of course – always understood time travel a lot better than me.“

„So, what changed?“

„The Cold War will not end in a Third World War“, Bill announced proudly at breakfast. He and the other inhabitants of the Villa Atterton were sitting around the kitchen table, when he made this statement.

„We know“, Mowgli said with his mouth full and pointed at Alexander.

„Yes, but now I also have the scientific proof for that“, Bill explained. He put several papers on the table. Mowgli glanced at some of them, before he declared: „That can mean anything. The handwriting is atrocious.“

Petula was sitting next to him, the newest inhabitant. She looked at the papers as well and then said: „That's Cyrillic. Russian, if I'm not mistaken, but... Well, I can read the words, but I can't really make any sense out of it.“

„Those are Feodor's calculations“, Bill said.

„Feodor? Isn't that the Russian guy who brought you to Leviathan?“, Sarina asked.

„The very same“, Bill said. „He has calculated that the Third World War is extremely unlikely at the moment.“

„And why does he say that?“, Alexander asked.

„For several reasons“, Bill explained. „Economical, political, social... The simple truth is that at the moment no one would profit from it. Of course, that is no guarantee, but the probability that he is right is extremely high.“

„I'm sure the calculated that probability himself too“, Mowgli laughed.

„The others did not take Feodor's formulas seriously“, Mr Tuniak continued. „But I thought of them as a very useful tool to predict changes.“

„Do they really work?“, I asked.

„Not always“, Mr Tuniak admitted. „They are not as accurate or as precise as Feodor wants to believe. Not by a fairly large margin. And they can only predict general trends. Only very few things have to change to make their predictions completely wrong. It's simply impossible to predict history in advance, there are far too many factors involved.“

„But you still used the formula to plan your first change?“, I asked.

„Yes“, Mr Tuniak said. „I had selected a small island in the Pacific Ocean for the experiment. Few inhabitants, little contact to other islands and therefore a smaller margin of error.“

Alice had just returned to the villa from a day's work, when Alexander greeted her. A conspiratory smile was on his face and he gestured to her that she should follow him into his room. There he locked the door and said: „I did it.“

„You did what?“, Alice asked.

„I changed history“, Alexander said. „Just a small detail, just as a test. But it worked. The last couple of months I have spent on a little island in the Pacific about four-hundred years ago.“ Philip, he continued, had helped him disguise himself as a member from another island, so that he wouldn't attract too much attention. Philip had helped him and his mothers with their disguises for different time periods quite often, so it hadn't been an unusual request for Alexander to make.

„And what did you do?“, Alice asked.

Instead of an answer, Alexander gave her two books whose covers looked completely identical.

„This book I borrowed from Sarina before I travelled back and changed things“, he explained. „And this one I have borrowed from her just now. Take a look at page thirty-four.“

I looked at the two books in front of Mr Tuniak. He nodded in answer to my unspoken question. „Those are the two books“, he said. „They are nearly completely identical. There is exactly the same text on every page. With one exception.“

„Page thirty-four“, I said.

Mr Tuniak nodded again and gestured to me to open the books.

I have to admit that my hands were shaking a little bit as I turned the pages. The chapter, in which the change had taken place, was about the languages and dialects of the inhabitants of Polynesia. The text was exactly the same in both books with one difference: In the changed book there was a framed area with the title “Rongorongo”. Below it, the authors explained that none of the islanders had ever developed an alphabet for their languages. None of them, except one. The people of Easter Island. Shortly before European explorers had made contact with them, they had invented writing. Unfortunately it didn't last for long, because the foreign conquerors oppressed their culture and did everything they could to erase their language, which they considered heathen.

The unchanged book had nothing to say about Easter Island.

„You taught them how to write?“, I asked.

„Yes“, Mr Tuniak answered in a voice that made it clear that that was not one of his achievements he was proud of. „I spent several weeks on the island where I claimed that I was a member of a tribe from another island and that I had been shipwrecked. I didn't teach them how to write directly, but when I was sure that they were watching me, I wrote down stuff. In the sand, on the rocks, anywhere. They started to copy me and so they learned how to write.“

„You really did it!“, Alice cried incredulously. Until she had read the page, she hadn't really believed him.

„Yes, but as you can see, the change was erased very quickly once I had left“, Alexander explained. „We would have to chose very carefully, where...“

„We?“, Alice interrupted him.

„Of course. It was, after all, your idea“, Alexander said. „Why? Don't you want to?“

But Alice was laughing and without hesitation she said: „Of course, I want to. What shall we do first?“

NEXT WEEK:

星星之火可以燎原

Why?

- Everyone

The meeting today was... strange. Stranger than usual. Mr Tuniak seemed distracted, as if his thoughts were somewhere far away. The difference was subtle and if this had been our first meeting I probably wouldn't have noticed it. But several times I had the feeling that he wanted to say something, but at the last moment decided differently and said something else. This happened several times until in the end...

But, as usual, it's probably best to tell things in the order they happened: As I entered his office today, the first thing he asked was if I was feeling better today. Nothing unusual there. But then he continued by asking if I had any questions I wanted to ask him.

During our talks I have been making notes. Not only about the things he was talking about, but also about things I did not understand; like when he mentions someone's name without explaining who that person was. Most of these questions Mr Tuniak answered either at the same day or during one of our meetings that followed. Remarks I hadn't understood at first, suddenly became clear. But not all questions were answered this way. I still have a list of things I do not understand. And since Mr Tuniak apparently hadn't prepared anything for today, it seemed like a good opportunity to cross several of these questions off the list.

Why... did you not ask an actual author to write your biography?

“I did. I wanted a writer to do what you are doing right now. I asked a good friend of mine to do it, Sam Clemens. You probably know him better as Mark Twain.”

The ship was slowly swimming upstream on the Mississippi. The vegetation on both banks – mostly bushes, but there were a few trees as well – was showing signs of a recent flood.

On board the ship tables had been set up and a violin quartet played music. The passengers were walking on deck, playing cards at the tables, talking, laughing; in short: everybody had a good time.

Two men, Mark Twain and Alexander Tuniak, were sitting at one of the tables. Twain was smoking a cigar and had his eyes closed. As the ship started turning to starboard, he opened them in surprise.

“There was a time when I could have navigated the whole river without looking even once out of the window”, Twain said. “When I was younger...” He looked at his companion. “You were younger too. Quite recently... last week, if I remember correctly.”

“Last week? It has been several years for me”, Alexander replied. “But I recall you telling me that you would be travelling to New York. That's now, right?”

Twain smiled and nodded. “You have a reason for asking, don't you?”

“Yes, I want to ask a favour of you.” Alexander took a carte de visit from his jacket pocket and handed it to Twain. The writer raised his white eyebrows as he saw the photo on the front. It showed a young woman, who was wearing trousers instead of a dress. “She is a good friend of mine and she would like to meet Nikola Tesla. She is also coming to New York, next month in fact, I was hoping you could introduce her.”

“You do know that Nikola and women... don't usually go well together?”, Twain asked.

“She is different.”

“I can see that. But I will introduce her. It was planning on seeing Nikola anyway.”

“And I have another question as well. Another... favour.”

“Your biography.”

Alexander looked surprised at Twain. He knew that he had made several remarks in the past about possible writing down everything he had done and seen, but he knew of no reason why the writer would have guessed so quickly that this was the main reason for his coming today.

“And you want me to write it, is that it?”, Twain asked. “Why?”

“Because everyone would think it an honour if you would write his biography”, Alexander said. “And because you have written A Yankee in King Arthur's Court a few years ago. Another story about a time traveller would be nothing unusual for you.”

Twain thought about it for some time, but in the end he shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I have to decline”, he said. “And I will tell you why: You don't want an old man whose life is coming to an end writing your biography.”

“I don't? And why do you think your life is nearing its end?”

“Haley's comet is coming near Earth again. It will be the last thing I will see before I die”, Twain explained with absolute conviction in his voice. “And you don't want an author for you biography either, you want a journalist. You have seen and done enough unbelievable things, you don't need a writer to make it all even more unbelievable. And he should be young, because then he will still have to prove himself and his work. He will work harder. He will be more exact. If you want my advice: Look for someone who has just finished his studies or is close to finishing them.”

Why... me?

“If you are a time traveller it sometime happens that you catch a glimpse of your own future. I usually try to avoid moments like that, but I haven't always been successful. From your point of view, we first met at the beginning of this year, when you entered this office and I gave you this job. But from my point of view this was actually our second meeting. The first time I saw you was when you came to our family meeting and took a picture of my mothers and me. I did not ask you who you were or why you were there then. But when – a lot later from my point of view – you came to introduce yourself and trying to get this job, I knew why you had come to our meeting. That's why I didn't have to ask you any questions. From my point of view, I already knew that you would be getting this job.”

Why... did Feodor call you “Born, because you lived”?

“Because my life is dependent on one point in history: The discovery of time travel by my mothers. But why did no one else discover Juliette's writings before them? Because Juliette had hidden them in a place where no one would. Juliette hid them, knowing for sure that it would take over a hundred years before someone would come and look at these old boxes in the house, where my mothers found them. Juliette wanted them to find her formulas, because she knew for sure that they would not misuse them. But she only knew that, because – from her point of view – my mothers had already discovered them and built the time machine. They had built it, before they had even met. But Juliette had to make sure that my mothers would find her younger self, so that she would know about all that and hide her notes accordingly... instead of just destroying them. That's why she sent a part of them to the university where I was working. It was no mistake that her notes were delivered to the office, where I was working. This way, my mothers and I would be able to find Juliette. Which of course means: If I hadn't lived, my mothers would have never found the plans for the time machine.”

The last answer already pointed in a certain (and in some way, obvious) direction, which is why the next question was inevitable. But I hesitated before asking it. It was a question I was not sure if I really wanted to know the answer to.

Why... did you never use the time machine to change history?

“Who said, I never did?”

Mr Tuniak was silent for a few minutes. Finally he said: “The last few weeks I have tried to avoid this topic. I did not want to talk about it. That's why I took you to the Gemini station and why I visited Feodor with your friend. The next... part of my life is something I am not proud of and sometimes I want to forget about it. I want to forget about what I did. I even thought about not mentioning it at all to you. That's why I made those... trips in the last weeks. I used every opportunity to avoid talking about it. But then... If I am not ready to tell the truth, the whole truth, there is no point in any of this, is there?”

“How was London?”, Alice asked, as Alexander returned to the Villa Atterton. It was already past midnight. Alexander had had an assignment to take pictures during an important event and had spent the whole day in the city.

“Loud and wild, as usual”, Alexander said. “Where is everybody?”

“Sleeping, I guess.” Alice was lying on the sofa in front of the fireplace. The small fire was emitting just enough light so that one could move in the room without bumping into the furniture. Music was coming quietly from speakers. Alice played on of her favourite records. “What did you see?”

“They installed a new body scanner at the Hammersmith Hospital”, Alexander told her enthusiastically. “It's the first of its kind, really high tech. But you will see: In a few years every hospital will have one.”

“Does it help the doctors a lot?”

“Absolutely.”

“Pity then, that they didn't invent something like it earlier.”

Alexander had sat himself on the floor, looking towards the flames, but now he turned around. “What do you mean?”

Alice just shrugged with her shoulders. “I was just thinking about how many lives could have been saved if someone had invented a machine like that earlier.”

“Yeah, probably... very probable, I guess.”

“And it doesn't bother you?” Suddenly Alice didn't seem to be tired any more, but completely awake. “You do have the ability to change that.”

Alexander was watching her silently for a moment, before he answered: “I could also make sure that penicillin got discovered a lot earlier. That would help a lot of people as well. But at the same time it would also mean that Africa would get colonized and exploited a lot earlier with even more disastrous consequences.”

“Yes, if only there was a way to travel into the future to check if things work out all right or not. If only someone could observe what changes in the past would cause in the future. No wait: you can do this...”

Alexander turned back to the fire again.

Alice stood up from the sofa and turned off the music. She said: “Do you know that when most people are young, they promise themselves that they will change the world when they grow up? They say, wait 'till I'm grown, I will show everyone how things should be done. But only very few actually do change the world. Do you know why?”

Alexander didn't want to continue this discussion, but when Alice did not continue, he finally gave in and said: “Why?”

“Because they don't have the opportunity to. The world's too big for that. But you have the possibility. You have a time machine! But the only thing you do with it is... shoot some nice pictures. Why?”

And without waiting for a reply, she left the room.

NEXT WEEK:

There is no problem with changing the course of history – the course of history does not change because it all fits together like a jigsaw.

The universe is one big coincidence. Cosmically improbable coincidences happen all the time. We just don't notice them all.

- Patrick Jane

Let me start today's post with an addendum to last week: Mr Tuniak and I had stayed for dinner at the Gemini station. Captain Nemo would have been proud of what they served us. All the food was something that had lived or grown in the ocean. Our hosts insisted that we should try everything.

On Monday I still felt well, but on Tuesday at noon my stomach started to rebel. From then on I had to stay in bed until today. I don't know if there was a connection with the – for me unusual – cuisine of the Gemini station or if I had incurred a virus from somewhere. The result was that I was unable to go to Mr Tuniak's today. A friend of mine was nice enough to take over for me. Of course, she only agreed to do it after lecturing me about the way I have handled this blog. She claimed that I had ignored basic journalistic principles and that the “flashbacks” I use so often were based on pure speculation, since I had no way of knowing what had really happened and what people had been thinking. I was far too passive as well. I countered that Mr Tuniak wanted his life to be told as a story and that the readers would surely know that I hadn't been there during the “flashbacks”. But in general things happened the way I described them, otherwise Mr Tuniak would surely have complained. But she didn't accept my explanations and said that I must have slept at the university.

Allright. So I guess today we will learn how it should be done.

Mr Tuniak was expecting me in his office. After a bit of small talk, where I introduced myself, I asked him:

I: Looking back at your life – and I guess that will also be true for the events you haven't talked about yet – one can't help but notice how many unusual people you have met and how many strange places you have visited.

T (Mr Tuniak): Yes. What of it?

I: Well, it just seems improbable to me that...

T: Do you want to say that I have only invented everything I told your friend?

I: No, definitely not. I know that you have a time machine you can use and that alone is sufficient to explain a lot of these... coincidences. Or what would seem to be coincidences. But not everything.

T: Such as?

I: Let's take the Gemini Foundation as an example. You talked about it last week. You first came into contact with them right in the middle of the ocean. By accident. No time travel involved.

T: If you are not accusing me of lying, then what are you thinking?

I: Are you combining events? When you are talking about your life, are you uniting events that otherwise would have happened with several weeks in between them, because this way you'd get a better narrative?

T: You mean you'd have less of a problem with these coincidences if there was more time in between?

I: They would seem more probable, yes.

T: I'm sorry to disappoint you, but things happened exactly as I have described them. And I have even heard of a theory that could explain these – as you would call them – improbable coincidences. Come with me.

Together we drove to the time machine in the forest. During the drive Mr Tuniak was telling me where we would be going.

T: There's a Russian mathematician, named Feodor. You have never heard of him because he's been hiding from the world since the 60s.

I: Feodor? Is this his first or last name?

T: His first name. He hasn't used his last name for forty years. He has developed a theory which he calls Biased Probability.

I: Has he published about it? Are there peer reviews?

T: No, the exact details are still a secret. He wants them to be published after his death. But I have personally... tested it. And as far as I can tell, it works.

I: You tested them in an experiment?

T: In a way.

I: But you didn't check the formulas? You just proved it for one single case?

T: If you want to be exact: yes.

We arrived at the time machine. Mr Tuniak activated it.

When we left it again, we had moved to a construction site. We were right in the middle of an unfinished skyscraper, somewhere around the 90^th floor. There was no plaster on the walls, no glass in the windows and there were several places where one could see conduits in the brickwork. The building had the general shape of a pyramid and was located inside a big city.

I: Where are we?

T: Pyongyang. Ten years in the past from your point of view. We are in the Ryugyong Hotel. It can't be found on any map and the government is acting as if it didn't exist.

I: What? This is a huge building!

T: Yes, but there isn't enough money to actually finish it. It's the perfect hiding place because everyone is pretending that it wasn't here. Come on, we have to go up one floor.

There were elevator shafts, but no elevators. We had to go up a staircase. At the top a man was already expecting us. He was around 70 years old, had short white hair, small dark eyes, glasses and a scar on the left side of his face. He was Feodor. He spoke English with a strong Russian accent.

F (Feodor): Did any cats follow you?

T: No, none. I took extra care.

F: Well, well, then I am happy to see you, Lex. And who are you?

Mr Tuniak introduced me and told him that I was here because I was interested in his theory of Biased Probability. That seemed to excite him and he made a gesture to indicate that we should follow him.

I: Why did he ask about cats?

T: Because he thinks they are spies for the CIA.

I had asked the question very quietly and Mr Tuniak had also answered in a whisper. But Feodor had still heard us.

F: Project Acoustic Kitty. They trained cats to act as spies, to carry bugs and they hid their antennas in the cats' tails. Officially they've stopped the project, but I don't trust them.

He led us to a black board with incomprehensible mathematical formulas written on it. Feodor put a coin in his hand and held it so that I could see it.

F: When I flip the coin, on which side will it land? Heads or tails?

I: Both are equally possible. The chances are 50:50.

F: Wrong! It's more probable that it will land heads up, because the coin is heads up right now. Now, if I were to put it on its side and roll it on the floor, which side would it then fall down on?

I: Again I think both sides are equally probable, but I'm sure you are going to say that's wrong.

F: You are a quick study. Again, it will more likely land heads up, because it is a tiny bit heavier on the opposite side.

I: Ok. What's that got to do with Mr Tuniak's chance meetings?

F: Don't be hasty. I'm letting you in on the secrets of the universe. The first secret is: There is no 50:50 chance. One result is always slightly more probable than the other. Do you understand that?

I: I understand what you are saying, yes.

F: Now, knowing this, we have to ask ourselves: Which direction does the universe tend to?

I: Which direction? What are the two possibilities?

F: Existence or Non-Existence. And lucky for us, the universe does tend to the side of existence. I've even got proof for that.

I: And the proof would be what?

F: The Big Bang. Did you know that it is theoretically possible to create something from nothing?

I: I'm sure there are some laws of physics that forbid that.

F: I didn't say that it would be easy. But theoretically I can create a kilo of matter from nothing if at the same time I also create a kilo of antimatter. You see? It's like taking a long equation and adding somewhere +1 and -1. The end result – and that's what the laws of physics are concerned about – doesn't change.

I: But if you don't really change anything... what's the point?

F: As the universe came into existence, right at the beginning there should have been an equal amount of matter and antimatter. And those two should have annihilated each other very quickly.

I: But they didn't, otherwise we wouldn't be here right now.

F: Exactly. So it can't have been exactly 50/50, there must have been slightly more matter. And thus the universe was created. It means that from its very beginning, it contained a imbalance. Can you still follow me?

I: Just.

F: But now think about the following: What is more probable, objectively? That the universe exists or that it doesn't exist?

I: That it exists. Again, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation.

F: Wrong! It is more probable that it doesn't exist. There are a lot of factors that have to be just right. Before it came into being, there was no reason for it to do so. And this is the second secret of the universe: It prefers the improbable. It's improbable that it should exist, yet still it does. Ask any scientist you like and they will tell you how improbable it is that life was created. And yet we are here. This is the biggest paradox ever: The improbable is more probable.

I: So, Mr Tuniak's improbable meetings and coincidences are... the result of some cosmic law? A universal law?

F: Yes! He himself is the product of it. If two women have a child it should be a female. Yet he is male. He was born a hundred years before his mothers were. He was born, because he lived.

Feodor suddenly changed into Russian and started adding formulas on the black board. Mr Tuniak whispered to me:

T: He is showing you the probabilities of my life. You won't be able to talk to him for the next few hours. I hope it's alright with you if we leave now. He won't notice.

Before we left Mr Tuniak wrote on a piece of paper: “Get into contact with Gemini in May 2012 and make sure you have left this hotel before 2007” and put it on a table. Then we returned to the time machine. After we had entered, he didn't immediately start the machine, but turned to me first:

T: So, what do you think?

I: He's crazy.

T: No doubt about that. The experiments he helped the CIA with in the 60s... But that does have no bearing on his theories.

I: I'm not sure if I can believe him.

T: And you haven't even heard his theories that are really out-there.

I: Was this some kind of a test? Did you want to see how I would react?

T: No. You started talking about probabilities. You claimed that my whole life was too improbable. I just showed you that the whole world is more improbable than you imagined.

NEXT WEEK:

Why?

La mer n'est que le véhicule d'une surnaturelle et prodigieuse existence; elle n'est que mouvement et amour. c'est l'infini vivant, comme l'a dit un de vos poètes.

(The sea is only a space for supernatural and extraordinary existence; it is only movement and love. It is living infinity, as one of your poets said.)

- Jules Verne

„Vingt mille lieues sous les mers“

When I met Mr Tuniak in front of the Raben Consulting building today, it was the first time I saw him with a cane. He was leaning on it a bit, but it was clear for everyone to see that he was not really needing it.

We got into the limousine and drove to the time machine.

“Are you wearing the right shoes?”, he asked me.

I answered in the affirmative. Yesterday he had sent me an SMS, telling me that water proof shoes would be of advantage today.

“We will be staying in the present, your present”, Mr Tuniak explained as we entered the time machine. “The Gemini Foundation rented the RP Flip to search for a location for their planned research station.”

“A station like an oil drilling platform?”, I asked.

“No... although Gemini is owning something like that as well. No, today we are going to visit their underwater station.”

But when we exited the time machine we were still above water. We had landed on a platform that was swimming on the surface of the ocean and was big enough to put ten time machines on it. But you could still feel the waves heaving it up and down and on the edges water was spilling over from time to time. It also became clear now, why Mr Tuniak had taken his cane. Here on the platform he actually needed it, otherwise he very likely would have fallen down. I hope he doesn't take it the wrong way, but today – for the first time – he actually looked old to me. Standing next to the time machine, above him the grey and clouded sky, surrounded by a similarly grey sea he looked like a man who had seen a century pass by.

“Where are we?”, I asked.

“The North Atlantic”, he answered. He pointed at the horizon. “The north pole lies that way.” He glanced at his watch. “Don't worry, we will be picked up. I called ahead. Ah, here it is!”

The water right next to the platform seemed to boil. Bubbles of air were rising in quick succession to the surface, followed closely by a small submarine. A porthole opened on its top and Carla looked out. I recognized her immediately, having last seen her when I had visited the Island Leviathan several weeks ago.

“Ahoi!”, she called. She moored the submarine with two ropes to the platform. Then we helped Mr Tuniak on board. The submarine seemed quite modern, but it was very small. Officially four people were supposed to be able to crew it, but the three of us already had difficulties finding enough space for our arms and legs. “Dad has taken the big boat”, Carla said, once we had settled in. “Shall we take the short route or the scenic one?”

“The scenic one, of course.” Mr Tuniak pointed at me. “We want to impress our guest.”

We dived.

The submarine had four bull-eyes, through which I could look out into the ocean. But the light diminished rapidly and soon we were moving in complete and utter darkness. Carla navigated the boat as if she had done nothing else in her entire life. I don't think she even looked once at her instruments during the whole dive.

“Five hundred metres”, Mr Tuniak said. “Halfway.”

I had no idea how quickly we were moving. With no point of reference and with constant speed it was difficult to tell how fast we were.

Carla switched off all the lights inside the submarine. They had already been dimmed, but now the darkness outside also found its way inside.

“Look out on the left”, Carla said. “We are lucky. Long John Silver is around.”

Looking through a bull's-eye, I was surprised to discover a faint glimmer of light outside. It was very weak, but the closer we got, the stronger it became. It was a jellyfish with what seemed to be tentacles of infinite length. At first I had no idea how big the animal was, since there was nothing else out there to compare it to. Thankfully, the jellyfish took care of that problem for me. It was swimming close to the bottom of the sea and suddenly its light illuminated parts of a sunken ship. I drew back in shock. The jellyfish must have been over thirty metres long.

“That's Long John Silver?”, I asked.

“Yes”, Carla answered. “He sometimes comes for a visit.”

The jellyfish continued on its journey, completely ignoring our little submarine.

“We are nearly there”, Carla promised.

According to the instruments of the submarine we were about a thousand metres under the surface as we reached the underwater station. Carla put the submarine on a platform under it. The platform moved upwards and into the station. Then we had to wait, because the water had to be pumped out of the airlock.

As we left the submarine, a woman was waiting for us. Mr Tuniak introduced her as Cate. She must have been around 60 and like her daughter her skin was extremely pale.

“My daughter has told me about you and Xander's little project”, she said to me. Then she turned to Mr Tuniak. “Although I still don't know why you decided to do it. When you were a child, you couldn't even sit still long enough to tell anyone what you did in the afternoon.”

“I'm getting old”, Mr Tuniak said.

The inside of the station looked as if Jules Verne had had a hand in designing it. Only the airlock for the submarines looked the way I had expected it, with metal walls, steal beams on the ceiling and touch-screens. But everything changed as we entered the main part of the station. A dark red carpet was lying on the floor (we had to leave our shoes in the airlock) and the corridors were round and made using wood panelling. There was electric light, but the lamps were made of a golden metal and shaped into various forms, no two alike; with very few modifications they could have been used for gas lights as well.

We entered the common room. It looked like a captain's cabin from the early 1800s, but much bigger. Through the ceiling I could see the ocean. Colourful fish were swimming around the station. I paused for a moment. The ocean outside had been so dark, it would have been impossible to even see the tip of your own nose.

“It's a projection”, Mr Tuniak explained.

“Today the theme is the ocean, other times it is just a clear sky, sometimes a forest... whatever we want it to be”, Carla said.

In one corner were several bookshelves, with two sofas in front of them and several chairs that were just this side of not being thrones.

There were also two computers, although at first, I didn't recognize them for what they were. The screens were framed in wood, the keyboard looked as if it belonged to a typewriter and instead of a mouse, there was a marble ball embedded in the table surface (it was not real marble, of course, but that's what it looked like).

“It's called steam-punk design”, Mr Tuniak explained.

On one wall a huge medallion was hanging. It was made using two marble plates (this time it was real marble), a light one and a dark one and at first glance I thought it was the yin-yang-symbol. But then I saw that each side was actually a face, the light one that of a woman, the dark one that of a man.

“What is that?”, I asked.

“The symbol of the Gemini Foundation”, Mr Tuniak answered.

“Are you a member?”

“No”, he said. “You can't join alone, it always has to be two people.”

“They offered you membership, you just would have had to nominate a partner”, Cate said. Turning to me, she continued: “His mothers, for instance, are members. Kim and I as well.” Kim was her husband and Carla's father.

“And what are you doing?”, I asked. “What is the Gemini Foundation's purpose?”

“It probably would be easier to tell you what it doesn't do”, Cate said. “They finance countless scientific projects all around the world. That's probably the simplest description I can give you.”

“The aim of Gemini is scientific research”, Mr Tuniak added. “It's mainly about theories and not really about practical applications. First and foremost is the accumulation of knowledge. The practical uses for that knowledge usually present themselves afterwards.”

“And what kind of research are you doing here?”, I asked. “Marine biology?”

“That too”, Carla said. “That's my project, mine and Henrik's. Mum and dad are more interested in outer space.”

“Down here?”

“Oh, no”, Cate said. “For that you have to go even further down.”

A lift took us down to the lowest part of the station. Here, its appearance changed again, this time into that of a factory. Countless pipes were running through the open spaces, accompanied it seemed by thick bundles of cables. We went to a control station, which I can best describe as several computers put together on a balcony. Below that – and therefore below us – was something that looked like a huge safe door built into the floor.

“What is that?”, I asked, feeling that I was repeating myself.

“A water tank”, Cate said. “Our neutrino detector.”

Neutrinos, they explained, were very small particles, even smaller than atoms. They had the ability to travel through practically everything. Stars, planets and moons were no obstacles for them and thus they could travel unimaginable distances through the universe. Every second billions of these particles are passing through our bodies without us noticing. To detect even a single one of them is extremely difficult, but if you are very patient and have something like a huge tank of water at your disposal, it is possible.

“When we got enough money again, we want to install these detectors on the outside of the station as well and then use the ocean as our detector”, Cate explained.

“And why are you interested in these neutrinos?”, I asked.

“Well, that depends on whom you are asking”, Cate said. “I'm interested mostly because they can tell us a lot about what is going on in stars like our sun or what is happening during a supernova.”

“And dad's interested, because he thinks this way he can make contact with aliens”, Carla added. “Look at this!” She pushed a few buttons on the computer and the screens showed a long row of numbers.

“What is that?”, I asked like a broken record.

“Nobody knows”, Cate said.

“But it is too regular to be a natural phenomenon”, Carla said. I had no idea what was regular about those numbers, but I took her word for it.

“I have to admit that if you want to communicate through interstellar space, neutrinos would probably be the best way to do it”, Cate said.

“But in the finest tradition of Gemini, you would never admit that in front of dad, would you?”, Carla asked with a smile.

“I didn't know about this”, Mr Tuniak said. He was looking very interested. “Did you show it Fedor? Maybe he can find something.”

“No, since we have no idea where he is at the moment”, Cate said. “I wanted to call you because of that anyway. But we have been receiving this signal only for the last seven months and at first were sure that there was a natural source behind it.” She didn't have to add that she hadn't changed her opinion on that subject.

“And even if dad is right... the signal must have been sent several thousand years ago, our response would come far too late”, Carla added.

“It probably would”, Mr Tuniak agreed. “But such signals may not only be for communication. They can also simply be a mean to tell everyone who listens: We were here.”

NEXT WEEK: 

The universe is one big coincidence. Cosmically improbable coincidences happen all the time. We just don't notice them all.