The Grand Scheme of Things

“Let’s go over the topic of free will,” Professor Grimwald announced, stalking over to the whiteboard centred on the stage inside the lecture hall. “I realise that we are studying physics, not philosophy, but it’s truly incredible how much the two subjects overlap.”

“Overlap?” I repeated amongst a sea of ignorant university students. 

“Yes, Daegel.” He tapped his marker against the whiteboard filled to the brim with scientific jargon that I doubted anyone could understand. “In physics, the ultimate question that we are trying to answer is how and why the universe is evolving in the way it is. This began with famous Greek figures like Aristotle who began to question the nature of the universe–although, interestingly, they were called natural philosophers. 

“Meanwhile, philosophy is a subject that aims at tackling the existential questions around why we exist the way we exist. As you can see, these two subjects intertwine much more finely than most people believe.”

He scribbled the phrase “free will” on an empty patch of the whiteboard. “Free will is a question that humanity has toiled with for millennia, from the dawn of civilisation itself. It is an idea that revolves around whether the individual has a choice over their future.”

A hand shot up from the corner of the room. “But they do!”

“Do they?” the professor countered. “Say that Person A travels to the supermarket on Friday. Did Person A choose to do this?

“One could argue that free will exists in the universe, as Person A consciously decided to go to the market. But is that so?”

Everyone sat upright as the lights flickered off, being replaced with a shimmering hologram of a model of the universe. 

“This is astrophysicists’ best attempt at mapping out the observable universe,” Professor Grimwald didactically instructed. “As far as we can see, this is it. But there have been growing theories that this is not the only universe out there.

“A puzzling phenomenon of quantum physics is that the wave function of a particle instantaneously collapses, from a probability of different measurements to one specific value. But some scientists have been led to believe that the wave function does not collapse; instead, the outcome of the wave function is branched into a different universe, generating a multiverse.

“This is called the many worlds theory of quantum mechanics, and it has been met with controversy. But, if it were the correct description of the structure and evolution of the universe, it would radically shake our view on free will.”

The hologram of the universe began to flicker with different variations, each stacked on top of each other. 

“Because, in a multiverse like the one that we find the many worlds theory in, Person A did not just go to the supermarket. There is bound to be another world in which Person A didn’t go to the supermarket, another in which Person A was turned around in the wrong direction, and another in which Person A fell asleep and did not find time to go to the supermarket. In the grand scheme of things, Person A has no autonomy in their choice; they are playing according to the predetermined ping-pong game of subatomic particles.”

“This is madness,” a voice murmured. 

“This is not madness,” Professor Grimwald snapped. “There are many other signs that the universe is not dictated by free will. For instance, entropy, a measurement of the disorder of the universe and the source of energy waste, and the nature of time have always been increasing since the beginning of time, yet we do not know why. The expansion of the universe is accelerating through unknown means. Thus, free will is likely to not exist–although I do need to compile more evidence to back up my claims.”

***

Thirty-five years later, on the evening of December 20, I remained hard at work in the astronomical observatory that I had founded two decades earlier on behalf of dedicating my career to searching for evidence of the multiverse.

While no direct evidence presented itself to the existence of universes beyond ours, my colleagues and I had compiled data regarding the presence of certain anomalies in the universe, such as the periodic flickers in the starlight of certain galaxies, the rapid change in the orbital paths of certain planets, and the fluctuating mass of hydrogen across the universe, among other phenomena. Yet, due to the fleeting nature of these phenomena, and the lack of theories explaining them, the discoveries remained pushed to the side of our workstation in favour of attempting to tackle the ultimate detection of the multiverse and free will. 

Until that very night. 

As I began to pack up my office for the night, my phone began to deafeningly blare like an air raid siren. The call was coming from the medical ward of Destina Laboratories, one of the most prominent research centres for astrophysics in the world. 

“Hello?”

“Daegel Ewald, correct?” the monotonous voice droned. “Do you know Professor Grimwald?”

“Professor Grimwald? Of course, I do!” My entire career had been based on the lecture on free will he had given me all of those years ago. 

“He has been suffering from a neurological disease for twelve months now,” the receptionist continued. “Despite the efforts of all of the brightest medical professionals, his condition has worsened. He has requested to meet you one last time before he passes on.”

“Professor Grimwald is ill?” I gasped, the world beginning to rumble back and forth. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying for the last minute,” the receptionist sniped. “He indicates that he wants to speak to you tonight. I trust that you know where Destina Laboratories is, correct?”

“It is a thirty-minute drive away from where I am right now,” I mumbled, desperately fighting back the nauseatingly frozen sensation creeping up my spine. 

“Perfect. I shall escort you from Entrance D directly to where Professor Grimwald is currently resting.”

***

I stood in front of the hospital bed. 

Professor Grimwald lay sprawled out, with an unnatural stillness to his face that was more suitable for a statue. His skin was almost translucent, and his brown eyes were now dilated. 

“Hello, Professor,” I greeted as I entered the room. 

His lips curled into a weak smile. “Daegel. I see, more than three decades have not changed you much at all.”

“My passion for physics is still as intense as ever,” I promised with a sad smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t have much time left,” he rasped. “The doctors that are tending to me are calling my condition an unprecedented neurological decay, and are blaming my diet and lifestyle conditions and whatnot on it, but I know that the true cause of my condition is buried in my work.”

“Your work,” I repeated.

“As you know, I pursued answers for whether free will exists in the universe–or should I say multiverse–for as long as I can remember. I’ve poured all of my life’s energy into proving that free will doesn’t exist throughout the multiverse.”

“You’re speaking exceptionally confidently about these claims,” I noted. 

“Indeed I am. You are now a highly esteemed astrophysicist as well. I’ve heard rumours that you and your team have discovered inexplicable phenomena throughout the universe that everyone failed to explain.”

A lump caught in my throat as I began to connect the pieces of the puzzle. “Yes.”

“The flickering starlight, the changing orbital paths, the changing mass of hydrogen, they’re all indications of something much greater.” He let that sink in. “These phenomena are all indications of a crossover of parallel universes.”

“Crossover of parallel universes,” I repeated, tasting the words in my mouth.  

“Indeed. Inside the greater multiverse, the coexisting realities of the parallel universes are not stable, and different spacetimes collide with each other frequently. But during these collisions, matter, and energy can interchange between different universes, the cause of the variations in starlight and the changes in the orbit of planets, as well as the transfer of hydrogen between one universe and another. 

“So you were right all along,” I concluded. “There is a multiverse out there.”

“But what’s more than that is, I finally proved that free will doesn’t exist anywhere within the multiverse.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve long believed that free will, if it existed, should be a measurable force, like gravity or electromagnetism. But I have never been able to form an equation linking free will to any aspect of the multiverse.”

“But you did?!” I gasped when he nodded. 

“The reason why I couldn’t form an equation for this long was because my hypothesis was wrong. I noticed that the most similar phenomenon to free will and destiny was increasing entropy, but my calculations always resulted in a divide-by-zero-error, as this new force, which I titled paradestinism, would have had to be concentrated inside an infinitely small point inside of the spacetime of the multiverse. No matter what I did, I would always end up with that disgusting divide-by-zero-error. But, a few days ago, when I was lying on this cot, I made an earth-shattering theory.

“I realised that the reason my theory was wrong could have been because paradestinism could not exist inside of the geometry of spacetime. So I ran calculations of the same equation inside of model geometries, and in one geometry, I solved for the value of paradestinism.”

A surreal sigh set in on Professor Grimwald, akin to a person cracking a code. And I realised that he had cracked the code: the code of the multiverse itself. 

“But what geometry isn't inside of the multiverse?” I wondered. 

“In my model calculation, I used a toroidal polyhedron, and the geometry of the multiverse slotted in perfectly to the centre.”

“So there’s something beyond the multiverse then,” I concluded, struggling to wrap my head around the fact. 

“That was my conclusion as well,” Grimwald agreed. “But after I figured it out, I began to wonder if anyone could access this area where free will exists, perhaps through weaknesses in the barrier of the multiverse. This too, I discovered.”

A cold shudder set in onto Grimwald. “Have you ever heard of the legends of the disappearances of the Britons?”

“No,” I admitted. 

“The legend says that the builders of Stonehenge, the Britons, vanished into thin air after setting the last stone brick into place. Historians and scientists dismissed the tale as the rambling of a demented maniac, but I began to wonder if the story was true. After all, all legends are based on facts. And a fact that I discovered confirms that the legend is true.

“Archaeologists that analysed the age of the stone bricks estimate that Stonehenge had been completed some five millennia ago. So I read up on star maps and the revolutions of the Earth.”

“You found something?”

“The date that Stonehenge had been completed was the Winter Solstice, December 21. A total lunar eclipse was happening on that night as well. But, what’s extremely fascinating is that the stars in the Milky Way were forming a straight line across the sky. I named this phenomenon a trizigy. A trizigy is an incredibly rare occurrence, so I began to suspect that the event may have had something to do with what happened at Stonehenge.

“Then I studied a map of Stonehenge, and did a rough sketch of it against a total lunar eclipse and the aligned stars of the Milky Way, and I realised that, if you connect up all of the points, it forms a toroidal polyhedron.”

“So the Britons never vanished,” I whispered, feeling the urge to vomit. “They were transported outside of the multiverse, to a place where free will exists.”

“Yes.” Professor Grimwald closed his eyes. “According to my calculations, a trizigy happens every five millennia…”

“...which means we’re due for another one!” I exclaimed. 

“In six hours and forty-three minutes, we will enter the Winter Solstice. Astrophysicists have noted that there is also a total lunar eclipse happening, and all of the stars of the Milky Way are aligned again.”

I glanced out of the window of the hospital ward and noted that the glittering stars, indeed, had formed a magnificent straight line across the sky, except for one star that was oriented slightly above the rest.

“Not all of the stars,” I corrected, pointing at the lone star. 

“In six hours and forty-three–no, forty-two minutes–Proxima Centauri will be,” Professor Grimwald corrected. “And once the trizigy is complete, a unique reaction will happen with light and the stone bricks, opening a doorway into the realm beyond our understanding. I do not know for how long, but my calculations predict that due to the unstable nature of the doorway, it will shut quickly.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” I whispered. 

“No one else does,” Professor Grimwald promised. “My research drove me into existential crisis and eventually madness, Daegel. I can feel the minutes ticking down for me, and I am willing to leave this world, under one condition.”

Professor Grimwald’s eyes met mine. 

“As long as people remain within the confines of the multiverse, Daegel, they will never get to experience what freedom is truly like. In the grand scheme of things, the evolution of the multiverse is a delicate calculus. And most people are suited to this environment where all possible outcomes have already been predetermined. But not you.”

A cold hand gripped my windpipe. “But not me.”

“From the moment I met you when you attended the university lectures, Daegel, I’ve sensed something otherworldly about you. How you posed questions that no one else had thought of–not even questions that I could have dreamt up. No one could have dedicated their lives to studying something as abstract as the multiverse and free will as you, Daegel. You do not belong in this multiverse. You belong where paradestinism exists, where you can pursue curiosity. I do not know what life with free will is; physics and maths can only take you so far in describing the nature of reality. But I do know that you are suited for it–and have been since you were born.”

Professor Grimwald clasped my hands and placed an ebony keychain in my palm. 

“This will illuminate when the trizigy is complete. Take it as the remnant of me. Finish my lifelong mission of discovering what free will truly is, and break all barriers to discover the most powerful secret of the multiverse: how to truly live.”

He smiled for the last time before life faded from his eyes.

***

Not a single rustle or chirp shattered the overarching silence as I trudged toward the foreboding stone structure looming in front of me. 

The maroon Moon was suspended in front of the line of the gentle lavender glow of glimmering stars. Through the combined light of the Moon and the stars, the night sky was painted violet. 

Proxima Centauri was nearly perfectly in line with the rest of the stars now, and as I watched, it was closing the distance even further. 

The centre of Stonehenge was a small clearing outlined by the stone bricks spanning radially outwards. While I hadn’t thought about it when I had travelled here before, I realised that the clearing was perfect to view the Moon and the stars centred upon the midnight sky. 

I checked my watch. It was 23:59, a minute before the Winter Solstice and the trizigy began. 

I held out the keychain that Grimwald had given me, and closed my eyes, while inhaling very deeply, mustering all of the courage that could exist in the multiverse and channelling it into me. 

“I can do this,” I repeated. 

Suddenly, the keychain began to glow an iridescent periwinkle. I prised my eyes open and noticed that Proxima Centauri had locked into place. 

“Escape your destiny,” I read, squinting at the curvy handwriting that had been etched into the keychain.

The stones around me began to glow blue, painting the central clearing in a cold cyan. And as I watched, a silver stream of pure light arched down from the sky and towards the clearing, gradually widening while rattling the ground with a magnitude 12 earthquake.

When the funnel of silver light touched the tops of the stone bricks outlining Stonehenge, a vortex of blinding white light flickered into existence directly above my head. 

“Escape your destiny,” I breathed. 

I leapt into the gateway.