Entanglement (9 page)

Peter began to dig through boxes of tea.

“The herbal stash. Pomegranate. Mellow Mint. Peach Orchard. How about Lemon Zinger?”

“Fine. Zinger's good.”

Peter smelled the bag. “Really? You want something with it?”

“No, I'll take it straight.”

Peter made the tea, then poured out a bowl of mixed nuts. They sat together at one of the tables.

“So, then what's the big difference between what you're doing, and the Standard Model with the Higgs thing?” Jack asked.

“Well, for starters, my math is a lot prettier. But beyond that, there are implications, which is what really matters. What are the implications of this field of subtle energy, in which all things live and breathe and have their being? The idea at the core of it is the oldest idea in the books. We are one. The uni-verse. The poetry of oneness.

“We're not separate objects floating around in empty space, but part of one undulating, pulsing, multidimensional uni-being organism, from the realm of all suns and planets down to the subatomic quantum level. All vibrating together at varying frequencies, transmitting, absorbing, digesting, reflecting, radiating light and energy, endlessly held together by this invisible yet omnipresent force of consciousness.”

Jack's eyes were alight with amazement as he listened to Peter, whose own face was flushed.

“Dude, you need to go to Burning Man, because they would friggin' love you there.”

The two men watched it rain for a moment. Then Jack said, “So before, what was that thing you started to show me—when you were drawing the circle?”

Peter crossed to the back wall, picked up a piece of chalk and drew a wheel. “Actually, this was told to me by my mother when I was a kid.” He started drawing spokes. “All paths and religions are like spokes on a wheel. And the farther out you are from any of them, the more superficial, the more disparate and distant, they'll seem from one another. However, the deeper you go, the more similar they become. They meet in the center.

“All things are interconnected through consciousness. From the farthest reaches of outer space, the macrocosm; to the farthest reaches of inner space, the microcosm and quantum physics—all are reflections of one thing. I had the audacity to put out a paper that intimated that science is just another teaching trying to find its way into the center of the circle. The aim of which is consciousness.”

Jack said, “That must have gone over great with the scientific community.”

Peter quickly erased the chalkboard in the lounge and smiled ruefully. “Yeah, it was a big hit. That's why I rarely publish anymore.”

“To hell with them, dude. They're all just part of the system,” Jack said. “So is that why you're hiding out here?”

Peter seemed startled by his comment; this conversation was getting too close for comfort. The truth was that he preferred the lab to his apartment, where everything reminded him of Manuela. It was easier here, where he could control his environment, just like one of his experiments. None of these were topics he intended to discuss with Jack—or anyone else.

“Who says I'm hiding out? I like to think I've chosen to cultivate my ideas in an open-minded atmosphere. There's something about being around kids. Especially when they're this age, at the dawn of self-awareness. They're so open, and they're asking questions. It's inspiring—they're not afraid to indulge in wild and outrageous possibilities.”

“Is that why you said I understood your ideas better than you do?”

“Well, that's part of it. But it has to do with this.” Peter touched his chest. “Direct apprehension. The power of the heart to transcend thought. We're talking about the field of subtle energy that is the conduit between our consciousness and that of all worlds. It's in us. Small children have access to it. They don't separate themselves from their world. But as we grow older, buffers emerge. Societal indoctrinations start to hypnotize us, and gradually there's a tendency to lose that connection. Soon,
boom
, we're shut down, and it takes a shock to blow the heart back open to the intuitive, nonverbal language of feeling.”

Jack nodded. “When you're a twin, you can never entirely separate yourself from the outside world. You look over there, and, well,
there you are
. Maybe that's why we still retain this sensation of just knowing through feeling.”

There was a crack of thunder as the huge downpour increased outside, giant raindrops pelting down from the sky.

Peter studied Jack closely for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, there may be something to that. Sympathetic resonance. There was this experiment in Geneva in 1997, where a scientist took a photon, a single particle of light, and split it into two separate twin particles with identical properties. Then they fired the twins in opposite directions down two fiber-optic pathways for a distance of seven miles, so by the time each twin reached its target, fourteen miles separated them. At that point they were forced to choose between two random routes that were identical in every respect.

“The two particles made exactly the same choice at exactly the same time. Each time the physicist repeated the experiment, the results were the same. Information was being passed between the two particles instantaneously. Somehow they were communicating. This phenomenon is referred to as quantum entanglement.”

Jack said, “So it's almost going to a molecular level—Charlie and me—quantum entanglement.”

“Or ‘spooky action at a distance'—that's what Einstein called it. Could be a good title for my book,” Peter said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Jack said, “But wait a minute. If even science is saying we're psychically connected, then there really must be something wrong with Charlie.”

“Science would never say ‘psychically connected.' It's all just speculative … we're just talking.”

“Yeah, we're talking
too
much. What time is it anyhow?”

Peter looked at his watch. His expression was enough; Jack took off running toward the physics lab.

Jack tore into the room and went straight to his laptop.

“Charlie! I'm sorry, I'm here, don't hang up!” He stopped dead in his tracks.

On the computer screen, Charlie's name was still grayed out. So was Ernesto's. No messages. Nothing.

Peter walked into the room. “Jack!”

Jack quickly checked his e-mail. Nothing. “Oh, God. No!”

“Did you miss him? What happened?”

“He didn't call. Something really
did
happen.”

“Jack, calm down. Listen to me. You don't know for sure.”

“Or what if he did call, and I missed it! Because we were so busy talking!” Jack began to pace back and forth, his fists clenched, a strange look on his face.

Peter studied him and made a decision. “What did you see, Jack? Tell me now. What did you see?”

“I saw Charlie in the desert. I saw sand and a hill and a ridge. And in the distance what looked like a coyote—”

“A coyote?”

“Or something like one … and the guys, they were talking. But then there was this horrible buzzing, screaming sound! And then, I felt it burning through me! This horrible feeling! Burning through me!”

Enraged, Jack pushed over a lab table, causing equipment to crash to the floor.

“Jack, that's not happening. Get it out of your head. That's not real.”

“It was real. Why would I see it if it wasn't real?” Jack put his hands to his temples, his breathing strained.

“I don't know. Maybe it was a premonition like you said—”

“But how can I warn Charlie if I can't speak to him?”

“All right, just relax, Jack. It'll be okay.”

Jack breathed deeply as he focused on a large poster of outer space that hung on the wall beyond Peter—a poster of endless stars.

After a moment, he closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he was envisioning another flash of bright sunlight and then a Humvee followed by two other army vehicles, moving across the desert. The caravan was heading in the opposite direction from the last time he'd pictured it.

Jack fell back against the wall and put his face in his hands. He was shaking.

“Oh, my God, it's happening, right now! I can feel it! Charlie …”

Peter went to Jack and grabbed him by the arms, trying to control him. Jack struggled but ended up falling to the floor. Peter got down by his side and tried to calm him.

“Jack, listen! Panic doesn't help. It's a waste of time. There's a link between you and your brother, so use it—like a radio frequency.”

“I want him back,” Jack wept.

“
Wanting
won't work. You have to focus.”

“I don't know how! It's too late.”

“It's
not
. Bring him into focus. Open your heart up to him. And make him aware that you're guiding him back to safety.”

“I can't,” Jack cried, sounding like a small boy. “I don't know how.”

“What does it feel like to know he's safe? What would it feel like to look up at that screen and see your brother's face on it?”

Jack did his best to look up at the computer, tears welling in his eyes.

“It feels good. It makes me feel so relieved.”

“What are you going to say to Charlie?”

“I don't know, I don't know. Charlie, please be okay.”

“He
is
okay, Jack. He is! Now, let him know how important he is. Use the energy field that connects you to see that he's fine. What else are you going to say?”

Jack's face was transformed by hope. “Charlie, you jerk! I thought something happened to you, but you're okay, you're safe.”

Jack closed his eyes. He could see inside the moving Humvee.

Charlie sat in the front seat, talking with the driver. Suddenly Charlie stopped and turned to look behind him, as if he'd heard someone's call. He shook his head, as if to dislodge the sound.

The driver asked, “What's wrong?”

“I don't know—I hear something. Do you?”

The driver looked at him skeptically. “Nah, man. I don't hear anything. Are you okay?”

Back in the physics room, Jack opened his eyes. He appeared to be in a completely altered state.

Peter leaned down to him and said, “Stay connected. Let Charlie know how important it is to you that he's safe. Show him how much you love him. Wake him up with that love to another level of feeling. And awareness. Of everything around him.”

Jack shut his eyes again, and this time, he saw his brother even more clearly, bumping along in the Humvee, light glinting off his sunglasses. He was still chatting with the other soldiers.

“Yes, Charlie's all right,” Jack said. “I see him. He's safe.”

The Humvee reached an area where there was a high hillside ridge, now on the right side of the caravan.

Tears poured down Jack's face. “He's smiling. He's alive.”

There was a sudden flash. On the desert hill up ahead, an animal resembling a coyote stood on the ridge.

Jack gave an echoing cry, “Look up, Charlie!”

Charlie stopped talking and cocked his head, as if he'd heard something again.

An echo of Jack's shout traveled across space and time.
“Look up!”

“Jack?”
Charlie whispered, then turned in slow motion and looked up at the ridge.

Simultaneously, Jack opened his eyes, turned, and looked in the same direction as his brother.

Jack's eyes fluttered. Emotionally exhausted, he passed out.

Peter positioned him comfortably on the floor. He grabbed his meditation pillow from his desk and placed it under Jack's head.

“Jack, you're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay,” he whispered.

CHAPTER 9

The rain had stopped, and the clouds were gone, leaving the sky the tenderest shade of blue. The clock in the classroom read 6:15. Weak rays of morning sunlight slanted through the venetian blinds. Jack was curled up on the floor sleeping, Peter's jacket covering him.

Peter sat in front of Jack's computer, his head resting in his arms on the lab table, hovering in the region between sleep and wakefulness. Suddenly there was a
ding
sound, signifying an incoming e-mail.

The sound was loud enough to fully awaken Peter. He had been having a dream, and he sat for a moment to see whether he could recall it. The dream had been about Manuela, as so many of his dreams were. He almost always dreamed about her face, either flashing by in a passing car or standing at an apartment window—it was always fleeting, always heart tugging. But this dream had been the most powerful and bizarre. She had been flying through the air and had urged him to join her.

“Wait, you have to show me how,” he'd cried out.

But she only laughed at this. “You
know how
. Come on!” And as he woke, he was doing it, soaring over a vast ocean with her shadow far ahead of him, into the blueness.