[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

haven't worked out. Like, what sort of coordinate system would a particle use?
Relative, absolute? Cartesian? How many axes? I'm not really serious about it
being Cartesian it couldn't be and remember, the coordinates or whatever you
want to call them have to be self-sensing
. The particle has to be what it knows it is, and to be where it knows it is.
Unless we start calling in observer-induced phenomena, which I do in my
momerath& though that isn't finished, yet."
"How much information does a particle have to carry?" Martin asked.
"To differentiate itself from every other particle a unique particle
signature and to know its state, its position, its motion, and so on& about
two hundred bits."
Martin looked to one side for a moment, frowning, getting interested despite
his weariness. "If the universe is a computer, what's the hardware like?"
"The momerath explicitly forbids positing a matrix for this system.
None can be described
.
Only the rules exist, and the interactions."
"There's no programmer?"
"The momerath says nothing about that. Just, no hardware, no explicitly real
matrix. The matrix is, but is not separate from what takes place. You are
interested, aren't you? "
He was, but there seemed so little time to think even the thoughts he needed
to think, and make the necessary plans. "I'll look the work over when I can.
You know I'm bogged."
"Yes, but this could be important. If we see something that fits, something
around Wormwood maybe, something high tech that doesn't make sense unless I'm
right, then we can apply whole new ideas."
"Obviously," Martin said. "Thanks."
Jennifer smiled brightly, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
"You're sweet, but I
thought you'd ask about something& "
"What?"
"About the noach how we communicate with nearby craft and the remotes."
"Along the privileged bands?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly. There wouldn't be any distance limitations
if the moms used the privileged bands to chat. Remember, we can't chat beyond
ten billion kilometers. "
"All right, how, then?"
"By setting up a resonance. You could change the bit or bits that distinguish
one particle from another. The particles seem to resonate, to be somewhere
else for a very short time. Signals could be sent that way. But there's a
limit how far. I don't know why, yet, but I'm working on it."
"Let me know what you come up with," Martin said.
"Can I talk about it with the others? Get others to work on it?"
"If they have time," Martin said.
She smiled again, bowed ceremonially in mid-air like a diver, and laddered
through the door.
* * *
There was little time for anything but work, drill, sleep. Theresa slept with
him, but they were too tired to make love more than once before sleep, down
from their coasting average of two or three times per day.
Martin curled up against her in the warm darkness of his quarters, in the net.
His limp penis nested between her thighs, just below her buttocks, slight
stickiness adhering his prepuce to her skin. His hand on her hip, finger
caressing lightly; she was already asleep, breathing shallow and even. Her
hair in disarray tickled his nose. He moved his head back a few centimeters,
opened his eyes, saw a dim memory of the momerath that had absorbed him in
most of his time outside drilling and attending to the active teams. The
Page 65
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
personal momerath; what all the children were doing now, trying to think their
way through to an individual judgment, to the most important decision of their
lives.
There was much more than just analyzing the data Hakim provided. There was the
intuition beyond rational thought; the unknown process of personal conviction,
of human faculties at work, that made their judgments different from what the
moms might have decided by themselves.
They probably had the power to destroy whatever life existed around Wormwood.
The system did not look strongly defended; and in strategy, appearances could
count for everything. An appearance of strength could be important& To appear
weaker than one actually was could invite assault, never useful.
Going over it again and again. Gradually sleep came.
The universe is made of plateaus and valleys, stars nestled in valleys, the
long spaces between the stars creating broad, almost flat plateaus along which
orbital courses approach but never reach straightness. Martin floated in the
nose of the
Dawn Treader
, the sleeping search team scattered in nets and in bags behind him. Through
the transparent nose, peering into the valley around
Wormwood, Martin contemplated their target, now the brightest star in their
field of view.
Within twenty hours, they would begin separation into
Tortoise and
Hare
. Martin would be in charge of
Tortoise
, Hans in command of
Hare
. Thirty-five children would accompany Martin, including Theresa and William
and Ariel; Hakim and the search team would go with Hans.
Hare would plunge through Wormwood's system ahead of them, collecting
information to be relayed
back to
Tortoise
.
Martin felt someone behind him and turned to see Ariel. She looked angry or
frightened, he could not tell which, and she was out of breath.
"What's wrong?" he asked. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]