Möbius Space

When the key in the fossilized human hand was found in a fossil-rich layer from the late Cretaceous, it was first believed to be an elaborate hoax. Then the device was discovered, not far away, partially embedded in the fossilized remains of a torosaurus.

To say it was kept secret would be a massive understatement. The crew that found it and dug it out disappeared, along with the device — fossil and all — and a select few scientists and engineers. The dig site itself was covered with a hangar in which was built a lab to study it.

Freed of the torosaurus, the device resembled a fancy, metallic door frame with a half-circle top. The metal showed little wear or corrosion, though the fossilized mud encasing parts of it still obscured any markings.

“What’s your thought, Wendy? Alien?” Dr. Allen Gardner, geologist, stared at the device while he sipped coffee, taking a break from removing the fossil crust.

Dr. Wendy Alcott, physicist, looked at the device. “It would mean that they are remarkably similar to us, so I doubt it. Besides, the hand—”

“I doubt the aliens use ASTM standards for their alloys.” Dr. Alisha “Web” Webber, engineer and materials science professor, interrupted. “It’s Ti-6al-4V, ASTM Grade 5. Titanium alloy; six percent aluminium, four percent vanadium.”

Wendy turned to face their interloper. “Hi, Web. Just random thoughts. Until I see evidence to the contrary, this is not likely alien, supernatural or deity-derived in origin.”

“And we’re certain about the age?” Web asked.

Allen nodded. “The way the left beam was embedded in the torosaurus, it’s like it materialized there. If this was planted, it would have required carving the fossil to fit the beam perfectly, with no tool marks, then assembling it, then doing the same with all the fossilized mud around the rest with the undisturbed coal seam above in place.”

“A simple yes would’ve sufficed.” Wendy put her safety goggles back on and picked up her hammer. “Let’s get back to it.”

Web stopped her and handed her a heavy sledge. “You don’t have to tap-tap-tap with that anymore. You’re not going to break it, and there’s nothing to blow up, so go for it.”

With the stone casing removed, the markings on the device were legible. “Alcott-Weber-Gardner Gateway #1.” Below it, a date less than a year in the future.

It took a few days to determine how to open the device. The interior was lined with rotted electronics, wires of an undetermined nature, and a spent betavoltaic nuclear battery.

Working together, Wendy and Web recreated the wiring, discovering it was a room-temperature superconductor in the process. Allen spent the days comparing photos and schematics of nuclear batteries to the husk of the one left in the device and narrowed it down to one of two.

“What do you think it’s a gateway to?” asked Web.

“Based on the evidence, I’d say it’s a time gateway,” Wendy said, “even though if you’d asked me last year, I’d have said it was impossible.”

“We wouldn’t be able to build it if we hadn’t found it first, and we wouldn’t find it if we hadn’t built it and sent it back in time.”

Allen chimed in. “That’s only true if isn’t jumping to an alternate universe.”

“As in, we built it in another universe, sent it back in time with some poor schmuck, and it ended up in this universe.”

“Right.”

“That still begs the question,” Web said, “of how the three of us ended up working on it together, and how we figured out things like the superconductor and circuit.”

“Too true,” Wendy said. “Until I got the call to investigate this, I hadn’t even considered the possibility of either time travel or inter-dimensional travel beyond the paradoxes they posed.”

Allen grunted. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be involved at all if they didn’t need a geologist to confirm dating, so how my name came up makes no sense.”

“You know I’m going to build it whether you help or not, right?” Web asked.

Allen grabbed her arm and released it as soon as he realized. “What happens if we don’t build it? Does it just disappear? Does this timeline collapse and we cease to exist?”

“Allen, you watch too much science fiction. We are here, and this…gateway…exists whether we like it or not,” Wendy said. “Our actions don’t change any of that. At least, I don’t think so.”

Web moved to the dry-erase board and grabbed a marker. “Maybe this only makes sense if we could see it from a higher dimension.”

“How so?” Allen turned his focus to the board, waiting for one of Web’s diagrams.

She drew a quick sketch. “Like a Möbius strip. A three-dimensional object with a single, two-dimensional surface.”

Confusion crossed Allen’s face. “So, we could be in some sort of Möbius…time…thing?”

“More like a Möbius space.” Wendy took the marker and began writing formulae on the board. “Web, you’re a genius. If we twist three-dimensional space through a fourth dimension, we end up with a single, continuous space existing in two times.”

Their copy of the device was complete a few months later, matching the date laser-engraved on the original. Web set up the engraver, and was set to mark it, when she stopped. “What if,” she asked, “we called this one number two?”

“My hypothesis,” Wendy said, “is that it wouldn’t change anything. In fact, you could call it anything you like.”

Web keyed in the directions for the engraver and let it do its work. She put the engraver aside and said, “It’s ready.”

“Who wants to turn it on?” Allen asked.

“I’ll do it,” Wendy said. She turned to the power switch. “This requires a key?”

“Just like the original.” Web handed her the titanium key.

The device powered up with a low hum. The air in the opening shimmered, and a new landscape appeared through the portal.

“Look, there,” Allen pointed. “That’s gate one.”

Web shuddered. “Gruesome. It’s through that dino. Does it look like the other gate is operating?”

Wendy squinted. “Maybe. Hard to tell.”

Web grabbed her phone and taped it to a broom handle. She turned on the camera and stuck it through the portal.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a better look,” she said, pulling the phone back in to look at the recording.

“Um, doctors,” Allen said, “look at the original.”

They turned to look and saw that it looked only partially substantial, as though it was there and not there at the same time.

“It looks like it’s here/not-here and active/not-active at the same time,” Wendy said, moving closer to it.

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near it,” Web said. “Remember what we found first.”

“Yeesh.”

“And you might want to see this.”

Allen and Wendy turned toward the open portal to see their doubles stepping out of the original and examining the skewered torosaurus.

Web stepped out and waved at her double, who waved back. “This is freaky,” they said in unison.

Web stepped back into the lab and turned off the portal which shimmered, then disappeared with a thunderous bang of air rushing into the sudden vacuum.

“Why did you do that?” Wendy asked.

“I don’t want to know which one of us loses a hand in that iteration.” Web sat down and leaned against the once-again solid original device. “Any guesses what happened to gateway number two?”

“I think we…as in other timeline we…dig it out of the ground from right here, and build number one,” Allen said.

“The Möbius space,” Web said. “It’s a continuum where that reality, and this reality are joined in a twisted loop. Maybe even more. The paradoxes are hurting my brain.”

Wendy thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. The biggest problem with time travel being impossible, is we now know it isn’t. Time travel doesn’t create paradoxes, time travel is a paradox; at least until we have a solid understanding of Möbius space…or whatever it actually is. Everything else follows from that.”