SPOOKY ACTION AT A DISTANCE

The Magisterium of science argues that the actions of the laws of physics have consequences. These consequences may be good or bad, resulting in blessings or curses. The Magisteria of magic and religion have similar beliefs, but often with different conclusions. 

Ultimately what we conclude is good or bad, a blessing or a curse, or even reality or illusion depends in large measure upon our Magisterium, our personal point of view, and how much cognitive dissonance we are willing to tolerate before choosing what we want to believe. 

This is a story about this distinction. 

Or not.

———————————————————————

I am Dr. Trudeau Brown, and my son is Harry Brown. He is 15 years old, and thinks I know nothing. I am a tenured professor of mathematics and hold two doctorates. I realize I do not know everything, but one thing I do know is that Harry knows nothing - or more accurately, very little.

Forgive me for saying so, but Harry also has the hostile, flat stare and mumbling taciturn speech pattern when speaking to adults, that is so epidemic among our teens. In addition, Harry has a plain appearing face, with a doughy and slightly rotund physique that he gets from his mother. He is generally picked last for most physical activities with his peers. His one athletic passion is soccer for which my son regrettably has no talent. Despite his many shortcomings, he is a fairly intelligent lad. He is, however, loathe to demonstrate that intellect in any meaningful way on penalty of death or gruesome medieval torture.

Yesterday was Friday, 17 November 2023. I had finished a fairly rigorous week of work and research at University of California Irvine. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend with no particular activities to stimulate me physically or mentally. My wife, Sharon, confronted me at the front door upon my arrival home. She announced that she was going to punish Harry this weekend for failing to clean the cat litter box for three successive weeks. Harry's punishment was to spend the weekend with me and help me shop for an infinity mirror for Christmas, among other tasks.

I pointed out the flaws in her premises. I offered to negotiate alternative punishment scenarios for Harry that did not involve me. Sharon, having been sufficiently immunized with at least two, and possibly three Old Fashions prior to my arrival, home, said "Not gonna happen!”

“You realize you are punishing me for Harry’s transgressions.” I asserted.

“Works for me.” she replied.

The next morning, Harry and I were standing in front of “Tian Bo’s Exotic Antiques”, newly opened on our block. My revised strategy to salvage the weekend was to enter the store, purchase, then gift wrap the first Infinity mirror encountered. I will also need a receipt for Sharon's inevitable return of the item after Christmas. Then I will leave Harry at soccer practice, and spend the following two hours at Jersey Mike's BAR & GRILL updating MY “vaccinations.” I will retrieve Harry and return home. That will be sufficient for today, I told myself. I will address tomorrow, well… tomorrow. 

At that moment, a group of teens playing tag football across the street yelled “catch!" Harry and I both looked up to see an errantly thrown football heading directly toward the large plate glass window of Tian Bo’s establishment. Harry sprinted toward the football with speed I had not anticipated him to possess. He jumped into the air and snagged the ball with one hand. He was miraculously able to avoid the window, and then deftly spun and rolled through the front door of the store which had been fortuitously opened by an exiting patron. The football popped out of Harry’s grasp when he hit the floor of the antique store. It bounced, then struck a vase a few feet away. 

The vase appeared flawless, of Ming Dynasty vintage, and was most certainly priceless. The vase immediately began to wobble. The oscillations gathered speed, widened, and the vase began accelerating toward the floor. Harry jumped to his feet, stabilizing himself by placing his left hand on a table next to him. He yelled “ow!” glanced briefly down at his left hand, puzzled. He then recovered and grabbed the falling vase with his right hand, dampened its oscillation, and restored it to its upright and stationary position. 

I marveled at Harry’s previously unrecognized athletic ability. I was even more amazed at the successive improbabilities that I had just witnessed. It was then that I noticed a small shiny bronze of irregular shape on the table where Harry had placed his hand. It was glowing with an alternating pattern of red and black colors but made no sound.

Harry and I stood by the table and stared at the flashing artifact.

“Any pain? Did it shock you?” I probed.

“Uh, Uh.” Harry replied, shaking his head. “It buzzed my hand when I touched it. Actually kind of tickled.” Harry smiled. “did you see my awesome catch?”

At that moment, Tian Bo, or at least my presumption of who Tian Bo must be, arrived at my side.

He was a short, stooped gentleman, ageless in appearance, sporting an elegantly manicured Fu Manchu facial hair style that was all white. He spoke with a thick Mandarin accent. His voice was solemn, but the corners of his mouth curled briefly into a tight smile. “We need to talk.” He said as he gently picked up the artifact from the table, “Both of you please follow me to the back consultation room.” “Ping Ling!” He looked to the corner in the back where a young girl was stocking items on shelves. “Close the store and lock up now. We will remain closed today and possibly all weekend.”

Ping Ling bowed toward the old man and nodded. 

We followed the old man into a back room containing a large oak table and several chairs of oriental design. The walls of the room were lined with books. Some of the books appeared to be incredibly old. He gestured for us to sit, but he remained standing, studying us intensely for a minute or two. He placed the artifact carefully on the table, and sat down across from us. He looked at Harry and spoke quietly. “Do you realize what you have done?”

“Yeah” replied Harry. “I just saved a big-ass window and a fancy-ass vase.”

“Harry!” I exclaimed. “Watch your language!”

“You think that is a blessing for me.” Tian Bo proposed quietly. “But imagine an alternative scenario, an alternate reality, if you will. Now hypothetically speaking, what if the vase is a cheap knock-off produced in Garden Grove, California for twenty dollars and later insured for $500,000. Would the failure of the vase to strike the floor and break in the course of business be a blessing or a tragedy for the beneficiary of the insurance policy?”

“One cloud does not make the sky.” Tian Bo continued quietly.

“What are you say—?“ I started.

“Is this some bullshit scam?” Harry finished, standing now and anxious to leave.

“Not anymore.” Came the soft voice of Ping Ling behind us. She had slipped in unnoticed and quietly taken a seat at the table. 

“Come on Dad!” Harry whined. “Let’s get out of here! Take me to soccer practice!” 

We stood, preparing to depart, when we observed that our egress was blocked by two rather large Chinese gentleman with shaved heads, arms folded, at attention by the only door in or out of the room. 

“Oh, great!” muttered Harry. “We’re going to be murdered by the Triad.”

“Harry!” I pleaded. “Your comments are making the situation worse.”

At that moment, a middle-aged woman burst into the room and elbowed her way past the two guards. Her hair was sticking out in all directions and strands of hair wrapped in foil with multiple colors were visible. She glanced our way, but did not acknowledge us.

“This better be good!” she announced, directing her comments to Tian Bo. “You interrupted my perm.”

“Take a look at these readouts.” Tian Bo responded. He was speaking now in perfect native English without a hint of Mandarin. This woman rapidly perused the strange numbers on her lap top and began typing vigorously. I could sense that her concern was increasing exponentially as she reviewed the computer information in front of her.

She then briefly stopped her data entry and looked up at Tian Bo. “You were right to call me. Will you do the honors?” She suggested, as she resumed typing.

“Certainly” Tian Bo replied. He gestured toward the woman. “Allow me to introduce Penelope Blackwater, Detangler First Class, with the QES, that is, the Quantum Entanglement Services, Orange County Branch.” After a short pause, he continued. “You know my name. Just call me Bo. I am a CPA operative with the QES.” 

“You’re some kind of accountant for the Chinese Mafia?” offered Harry, a dubious tone to his voice. ”Are you even Chinese?"

Bo laughed. “I’m from Brooklyn. And no, I am not that kind of CPA. I am a Certified Portal Advisor, you know, for inter-dimensional portals. my job is to monitor known portals for quantum entanglements. I notify Penelope when a breach occurs.” He nodded toward the woman who was furiously typing on her computer. “She’s the QES genius when it comes to locating and detangling quantum events.”

“Which brings us to you.” Bo continued. “Your activities earlier, that is to say, your son’s activities, triggered a Level 4 non-linear temporal event with chirality. A small wormhole entangled with this dimension has been opened, or has not been opened, or will be opened, or not, and must be closed to avoid catastrophic consequences — something along the lines of a death, unintended pregnancy, or possible disruption of a national election.”

“Stop!” I interrupted. “You need to wait while I explain this to my son.”

“Dad!” Harry whined. “I know this all ready. I’m not a moron.” He spoke, as if quoting something memorized. “In linear time, events unfold in a straightforward, chronological order from past to present to future. A non-linear temporal event means the occurrence does not follow a linear sequence of time. A non-linear event involves disruptions, reversals, or complexities in the temporal sequence. A chiral event means the event has a mirror image that cannot be super imposed on the other image. The image has ‘handedness’.” Harry looked at me in a defiantly triumphant manner. I pay attention at school, you know.” he quipped sarcastically, then added “I still say it’s all bullshit.”

I glared at Harry, then turned to Bo and Penelope. “but I still don’t understand what we have to offer now that this “event” has occurred and you, the “experts”, are here to correct it. Why can we not leave?” I demanded.

“We need to locate the quantum entanglement quickly before the pending disaster becomes fixed in universal Space-Time.” Answered Penelope. “I am using Harry’s physical DNA signature in this Space-Time to track the entanglement.” Penelope continued. “We know approximately WHERE Harry is located in conventional Space-Time. His physical manifestation is in this room. But his tangled quantum manifestation, or more plainly stated, “WHEN” he is located, is uncertain, ever changing, and unpredictable.”

“What if something happens to Harry’s DNA…?” I was skeptical, but becoming increasingly worried at this point.

“I will be perfectly honest.” offered Bo. “There is no danger at all!” I rolled my eyes. So did Harry. So did Ping Ling, I observed, when I glanced back in the room. I suppressed a smirk.

“You still haven’t stated exactly how all this works” I pointed out, not yet willing to suspend my disbelief and embrace what I mostly believed was “snake-oil science”, at best.

Penelope nodded and continued with her explanation. “My patented proprietary program contains algorithms based on chaos theory. I am sending millions of pings every second into Space-Time to track Harry's entangled DNA. The ping coordinates are recorded by the Nechoshet and displayed in changing color patterns and oscillation frequencies that show whether we are approaching or receding from the entanglement. Through a series of successive approximations we continue to narrow down the quantum deviations. When we are within 2 meters, I can initiate my dampening algorithm which immobilizes the entanglement, allowing us to trap it with the Faraday cage and untangle it.”

“What's the Nechoshet”, I asked.

“The Mar'ot Nechoshet. Surely you know what that is!” Penelope spoke with impatience and irritation. “Abiathar’s bronze infinity mirror! Procured for King David! Rescued by Abiathar’s son, Ahimelech, and placed with Solomon’s treasures! Ring any bells?” Penelope mimed rapping on my forehead with her knuckles. I was not pleased, but remained silent. 

Penelope looked up and abruptly stood. “We don’t have much time.” She announced to me. “I have a fix on Harry's entangled DNA. It is in your attic, less than 2 meters from the attic opening.” I have initiated the dampening field. We have 10 minutes to complete the detanglement. I’ll bring the Faraday cage.” She quickly moved past Harry on her way out the door. “No time to explain anything else!” 

I didn’t speak. I just shrugged. We both ran out the door toward home.

Harry reached the house first, banged open the front door and ran for the stairs. “No time to talk.” I heard him say to Sharon. “We’ve got to get rid of a wormhole before something bad happens!”

“Why don’t you just call the pest control guy?” Sharon retorted.

Then, as I reached the door ahead of Penelope and Bo, I heard her mumble “Teenagers and husbands! Both worthless as tits on a butch bulldog!”

“I heard that!” I proclaimed as I sprinted through the door.

Sharon snorted and took a swig of her drink. I was close enough to see that the drink de jour was a Vodka Martini.

At that moment, Bo and Penelope entered the house through the open front door. 

“And who the hell might you be?” Sharon demanded.

“I’m Penelope Blackwater, I’m the Detangler and he,” nodding toward Bo, “is our CPA.”

Sharon turned to face the stair case and yelled at me. “What the hell is going on with our taxes and why are we having a rodeo?”

Harry started wheezing as he climbed into the attic. Harry has exercise-induced asthma, usually easily managed, but he did not have his rescue inhaler with him today. He looked down and saw that Penelope was approaching the top of the stairs. She reached up and handed him the small Faraday cage.

“OK.” Harry hesitated. “What do I do now?” 

“There will be a flashing bright blue-green light in the floor near the attic opening. Put the Faraday cage over the light.” 

This pyramid thingy? He asked. His wheezing was growing louder.

“Yes” Penelope replied.

Penelope checked the Nechoshet and saw that the artifact was glowing a steady blue-green and no longer flashing. “Excellent!” She affirmed.” “You can come down from the attic now. Your work is done.”

When Harry emerged from the attic, he did not look well at all. His hands were trembling, he was pale, diaphoretic with a croupy cough. “Dad, I can’t breathe!” He wheezed.

I held Harry in my arms as we descended rapidly to the living room. “Call 911!” I shouted.

Emergency Medical Services arrived 3 minutes later and started working on Harry. An IV was started and Harry was given a breathing treatment with a medicine called albuterol which did not help. He was then given a shot of epinephrine which also did not help. The lead paramedic said quietly, but not so quietly that I could not overhear. “Prepare for intubation. Get the meds. Etomidate and Sux. Notify control. We will transport code 3 in less than 10.”

I had been standing by, helpless. Sharon was behind me. I turned to Penelope and Bo and asked. “I thought we fixed the quantum entanglement?”

Penelope responded “the momentum of the event doesn't go away immediately. It takes time. sometimes a lot of time."

"And maybe this has nothing to do with a quantum event". Bo added. "This might be totally coincidental.”

“In other words, you know nothing and you can do nothing.” My words were miserable in my mouth.

The moment before the paramedics became irrevocably committed to intubation, the third paramedic interrupted “hold on guys. I wanna try something. Let's give him a treatment with Xopenex. A different vial of medicine was opened and placed in the nebulizer.

Almost immediately, Harry's work of breathing began to improve. His color change to a healthy pink. He was no longer struggling. The paramedics smiled and bumped fists. 

“Harry!” I almost shouted. “You're going to be OK, son!” 

He looked up at me evenly. He did not say a word. He then slowly raised his right hand with his middle finger fully extended and placed it in my field of vision. I did make note of the fact that his fingers were no longer trembling.

As the ambulance left for the hospital, I picked up the medication bottle the paramedics had used. I read the label. Levalbuterol, or Xopenex, is (R)-albuterol. It is the R-enantiomer of racemic albuterol. It is a pure chiral compound. The “good” enantiomer of albuterol. 

Sharon slipped beside me and placed her hand in mine. 

Are we nominal again?” I asked quietly.

“Let’s just say I’ve taken my divorce attorney off of speed dial.” Sharon murmured.

Apparently, we had corrected the quantum entanglement after all. 

…..or maybe not.