— March 21, 2218 —
On a warm and breezy March evening, I decided to put this adventure into writing. Despite having access to all kinds of technological marvels, I’ve always held a special place for the enchantment of primitive technology. That’s why I’ve been waiting for a week to get my hands on a restored typewriter from 1922, a relic from the past. Even though one might accomplish great feats, as you age, it takes more effort to figure out something you’ve never used before. I spent the last two days learning how to use this vintage typewriter, which is new to me but ancient in terms of history. I hope that this 200-year-old veteran won’t fail me halfway through. I’d rather not entertain the thought that I might be the one to give up on it. If someday this writing falls into someone else’s hands and they wish to publish it, others besides me will have experienced these events firsthand. I am now too old and isolated from the world to go to someone and say, “Publish this.” When we’re young and eagerly await the future, we often hear our elders talk about how they miss the past, but I couldn’t grasp it until now. Some things can only be truly understood through experience. Especially when you’ve aged as much as I have, the situation becomes even more dire. Since I decided to live in isolation from the world, I haven’t seen another human being (I’ve heard that various new species have been created, and it’s hard to tell which ones are considered “normal” humans in this uncertain age). Hopefully, my satisfaction with this situation won’t upset you. Before I delve into the narrative, I must admit that addressing a living organism, no matter how advanced, feels vastly different from addressing artificial entities. If we trace everything back to its origins, what has transpired here is a scientific phenomenon dating back long before my time. It’s a continuation of our evolving understanding of the universe, starting with the emergence of quantum physics in the early 1900’s and later joined by the theory of relativity. After completing my undergraduate studies in experimental physics, I applied to the Max Planck Institute and was accepted. My life took a completely different turn in the spring of 2021. The flight from Albuquerque, United States, to Munich was the longest I had ever taken, and it felt like it would never end. I stayed in the institute’s guesthouse in Munich for about three months, which was quite comfortable. During this time, using public transportation actively saved me a lot of time, so on days filled with extensive research, I would often choose to stay overnight at the institute. My dedication seemed to have an impact, as Dr. Shaun Calhoun, the Director of Experimental Physics, invited me to join the experimental research team working on M Theory, which focused on the nature of spacetime and interactions between dimensions. Until then, I had struggled to decide in which field of physics I would specialize, but Dr. Shaun’s invitation essentially determined my area of expertise. Experimental physics involved testing the predictions of theoretical physics, and at the time, this field didn’t seem particularly appealing to my imagination. However, I would gradually learn what lay beyond our perception in this seemingly unexciting domain. With Dr. Shaun and his team, I worked for four years to lay the experimental groundwork for M Theory. The team consisted of sixteen members. In those years, the idea that a single physicist could open up new horizons had become a relic of the 1900’s. Now, it was clear that exploring new frontiers required large teams. Despite this shift in the scientific landscape, I continued to resist the idea. After four years of hard work, we completed the experimental infrastructure needed to test M Theory, and in the first quarter of 2025, we received permission from the Institute to conduct the experiment. The experiment relied on high-energy collisions of subatomic particles (on the order of gigaelectronvolts) bombarding helium nuclei. While leading scientific centers of the time warned against it, suggesting that such an event could create a singularity and potentially destroy the entire solar system (similar to the concerns raised years ago with the Large Hadron Collider), these recommendations didn’t go beyond causing a minor delay in our plans. In March, the analysis of the data collected revealed that we were present in only one of the intertwined temporal dimensions, extending beyond our known dimensions. Among the results was the revelation that the universe had dimensions beyond those we knew, with at least one of them potentially being another temporal dimension. This was considered a second leap in physics after the post-quantum era, and during these years, physicists proposed numerous new theories. If my memory serves me right, around the beginning of the summer of 2025, Dr. Shaun’s team decided to split into four subgroups for more detailed research. While Dr. Shaun tried to persuade me to lead one of these subgroups, I declined, ultimately bidding farewell to the Institute that fall. Leaving behind such an opportunity might seem foolish to most, but Munich had overwhelmed me. I had never claimed to have a sound mind in the first place. My return to New Mexico became possible through an application I made to New Mexico State University. I taught courses in various physics departments during this time, which proved valuable for the critical gap process I needed to undertake. I spent about two years researching, building upon the M Theory data I had obtained firsthand. If I can live alone on Ceres today, it’s because of those days. In April 2028, I concluded my research and completed the temporal and spatial theory that defined who I am. Although I had completed it at the time, I chose not to publish it. I was hesitant to put forth an empty theory and potentially provoke unnecessary reactions from people. I believed that publishing it would only be possible in an environment where it was supported by experimental data. Deciding that I should chart a new course, I abandoned this opportunity while it was still available. I believe I’ve provided enough detail about the beginning, and my joints are sounding alarms for me to stop. The surveillance AI may turn off the lights to halt me. If I wake up to a new day tomorrow, I’ll continue from where I left off.
O'Conner Sycamore 