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Dream Log - The Whisper Zone
Jun. 30th, 2005 08:04 amOur little tin can spins slowly out in the Oort cloud, and there we map the dimensions. The von Oij Referencer peers beyond three dimensional space by generating a dirac delta gravitational singularity, and it's too dangerous to fool with such things inside the solar system.
We have made good progress in mapping the higher order dimensions. von Oij postulated that there are a near-infinitum of dimensions with lapping adjacencies beyond those few predicted by mathematics so far, and these can be tested and probed by unpacking a small area of space for a billionth of a second or so. For instance, what we have conventionally thought of as the seventh dimension turns out to be three separate 7-fold dimensions, each with different orthogonalities and adjacencies, piled on top of and around each other like newborn puppies trying to stay warm. But, we know, there must be more 7-fold dimensions lying beyond them where they cannot be easily perceived. We will get there eventually.
We have made some interesting discoveries, and some of them we have named. There is Serpentine, for instance, a skinny dimension that transcends the bounds of n-fold space and writhes its way through all the spatial realms like a river. There is Gemini, the twin 17-fold dimensions, that are practically identical but seem to swap places from time to time. And then there is the Whisper Zone.
Dan thinks the Whisper Zone is strange. It moves about from time to time. When we first mapped it, it seemed to be 37-fold. When we saw it next, it was 35-fold, having seemingly lost two axes over a 48-hour span. It seemed to have crept back up along Serpentine during that time. Even stranger, we had mapped a small 35-fold dimension earlier with some interesting symmetries in that same location, and when we looked again it was gone. The Whisper Zone must have absorbed it in some fashion.
The Whisper Zone defies exploration, however. We can't pin down its interior structure; just when we think we have a sense of its orthogonalities and vertices, it rearranges itself and all our work is lost. And when we look for it again, it has moved off somewhere else. More than once, Dan has quite seriously theorized that the Whisper Zone displays many of the characteristics of life.
I keep telling Dan that he's being silly. It's a region of n-space, not a paramecium. The phenomena we have witnessed can surely be explained by some factor we haven't yet considered. Perhaps there is some sort of uncertainty principle at work, for instance, or perhaps we are witnessing periodicity to its structure that is simply more complex than we have seen before.
Dan proposes we test our theories by detuning the von Oij Referencer Head. The Referencer is normally very precise; it peels away the layers of n-space very carefully to reveal the lower tiers. But if it is detuned, it can scramble space quite badly during its impulse. Dan predicts that if we hit the Whisper Zone with this, we'll see it withdraw. I'm certain he's wrong, and so we give it a try.
The Whisper Zone proves elusive. We eventually find it down deep at 127-fold, almost at the limits of our ability to probe. As soon as it is uncovered, it sends us on a wild goose chase. It climbs Serpentine at a rapid pace, pushes its way between two obstinate 65-fold dimensions, and tries to hide there. We unearth it again, but it doubles back on itself, and we spend hours trying to track it down. Eventually we find it sitting quietly next to Gemini, attempting to mimic its simplistic internal structure so that it will be mistaken for one of the twins.
Of course by now it is quite obvious that Dan is more right than wrong, but we are determined to carry through with the experiment anyway. We carefully withdraw from the Whisper Zone, and it appears to remain where it was, quiescent. We back up to 12-fold, detune the head, and plunge down as quickly as we can.
The Whisper Zone is still there. The detuned head attempts to bend space in the middle of it, destroying orthogonalities and displacing vertices. For a moment the inner structure of the Whisper Zone is revealed -- a complex pattern of whirling parts and shifting symmetries, instantaneously disrupted, as if an intricate ballroom dance were thrown for a loop by one of its major participants suddenly collapsing on the floor.
The Whisper Zone suddenly becomes opaque, drawing itself in upon itself and occupying a much smaller volume of n-space. Then it moves. Dan and I hover over the instruments, trying to track the thing.
"It's gotten to Serpentine," says Dan anxiously. He peers into his sigmascope. "It's rising."
I perform an instrument diagnostic. "Rising? Rising where?"
"Up. Up fast, straight up Serpentine." The simulation on the screen shows a small, hard ball. "It's already at 12."
"It's coming here. Good Lord, it's coming for us."
"It didn't like that," says Dan, grinning fiercely. "We're going to have to show it who's boss. Quick, hit it again."
The alarm goes off.
We have made good progress in mapping the higher order dimensions. von Oij postulated that there are a near-infinitum of dimensions with lapping adjacencies beyond those few predicted by mathematics so far, and these can be tested and probed by unpacking a small area of space for a billionth of a second or so. For instance, what we have conventionally thought of as the seventh dimension turns out to be three separate 7-fold dimensions, each with different orthogonalities and adjacencies, piled on top of and around each other like newborn puppies trying to stay warm. But, we know, there must be more 7-fold dimensions lying beyond them where they cannot be easily perceived. We will get there eventually.
We have made some interesting discoveries, and some of them we have named. There is Serpentine, for instance, a skinny dimension that transcends the bounds of n-fold space and writhes its way through all the spatial realms like a river. There is Gemini, the twin 17-fold dimensions, that are practically identical but seem to swap places from time to time. And then there is the Whisper Zone.
Dan thinks the Whisper Zone is strange. It moves about from time to time. When we first mapped it, it seemed to be 37-fold. When we saw it next, it was 35-fold, having seemingly lost two axes over a 48-hour span. It seemed to have crept back up along Serpentine during that time. Even stranger, we had mapped a small 35-fold dimension earlier with some interesting symmetries in that same location, and when we looked again it was gone. The Whisper Zone must have absorbed it in some fashion.
The Whisper Zone defies exploration, however. We can't pin down its interior structure; just when we think we have a sense of its orthogonalities and vertices, it rearranges itself and all our work is lost. And when we look for it again, it has moved off somewhere else. More than once, Dan has quite seriously theorized that the Whisper Zone displays many of the characteristics of life.
I keep telling Dan that he's being silly. It's a region of n-space, not a paramecium. The phenomena we have witnessed can surely be explained by some factor we haven't yet considered. Perhaps there is some sort of uncertainty principle at work, for instance, or perhaps we are witnessing periodicity to its structure that is simply more complex than we have seen before.
Dan proposes we test our theories by detuning the von Oij Referencer Head. The Referencer is normally very precise; it peels away the layers of n-space very carefully to reveal the lower tiers. But if it is detuned, it can scramble space quite badly during its impulse. Dan predicts that if we hit the Whisper Zone with this, we'll see it withdraw. I'm certain he's wrong, and so we give it a try.
The Whisper Zone proves elusive. We eventually find it down deep at 127-fold, almost at the limits of our ability to probe. As soon as it is uncovered, it sends us on a wild goose chase. It climbs Serpentine at a rapid pace, pushes its way between two obstinate 65-fold dimensions, and tries to hide there. We unearth it again, but it doubles back on itself, and we spend hours trying to track it down. Eventually we find it sitting quietly next to Gemini, attempting to mimic its simplistic internal structure so that it will be mistaken for one of the twins.
Of course by now it is quite obvious that Dan is more right than wrong, but we are determined to carry through with the experiment anyway. We carefully withdraw from the Whisper Zone, and it appears to remain where it was, quiescent. We back up to 12-fold, detune the head, and plunge down as quickly as we can.
The Whisper Zone is still there. The detuned head attempts to bend space in the middle of it, destroying orthogonalities and displacing vertices. For a moment the inner structure of the Whisper Zone is revealed -- a complex pattern of whirling parts and shifting symmetries, instantaneously disrupted, as if an intricate ballroom dance were thrown for a loop by one of its major participants suddenly collapsing on the floor.
The Whisper Zone suddenly becomes opaque, drawing itself in upon itself and occupying a much smaller volume of n-space. Then it moves. Dan and I hover over the instruments, trying to track the thing.
"It's gotten to Serpentine," says Dan anxiously. He peers into his sigmascope. "It's rising."
I perform an instrument diagnostic. "Rising? Rising where?"
"Up. Up fast, straight up Serpentine." The simulation on the screen shows a small, hard ball. "It's already at 12."
"It's coming here. Good Lord, it's coming for us."
"It didn't like that," says Dan, grinning fiercely. "We're going to have to show it who's boss. Quick, hit it again."
The alarm goes off.
