Alexander nodded. “Time and space are joined, but movement faster than the speed of light theoretically allows forward travel in time — or through vast distances in space, yes? The dimensional portal technology in Norway functioned this way. The energy the device used was not only powered by the ocean currents, but also by a special element that came from the other side of that dimensional tunnel — a kind of miniature black hole. A stable one. Infinite power. Enough to punch a doorway to a different dimension.”
“How?”
“Imagine two flat sheets of paper, separated by an inch of air. One paper is this world, the next is…someplace else. The machine, and the black hole, essentially pushed on the outside of both sheets of paper until they ruptured and formed a tunnel between the two.”
“You’re talking about an Einstein-Rosen bridge, right? A wormhole?” King asked.
“Yes, exactly.” Alexander smiled like a schoolteacher enjoying that his pupil was keeping up. “But imagine instead that you don’t need to travel far; it’s not like a ship going through a long tunnel, like in Star Trek. Because the Einstein-Rosen bridge doesn’t form between the surfaces of the planes or dimensions, leaving a long funnel-shaped tunnel. Instead, it draws the edges of the planes together to where they nearly touch. Travel between the dimensions was instantaneous, right? Like passing through a waterfall or even a thin membrane?”
King recalled the feeling from the previous year. “Something like that, yeah. So what?”
“So take away one of the pieces of paper. Fold the remaining paper over on itself in the shape of a sideways letter U, maintaining that inch of distance between the sides of the paper.”
“I don’t follow. Isn’t the paper flat? Doesn’t it have to stay that way?” King asked, interested in the discussion, now that it was beyond his understanding. He frequently looked at learning new things as a challenge to be overcome.
“Einstein’s theory suggested that any mass could curve space-time. Instead of paper, think of a sheet of plastic wrap. If you hold it tight from all four corners, but drop a heavy marble on it, it will bow and distort in the center of the wrap, correct?”
“Okay,” King said, understanding the reference, but not how an entire dimension could curve into a U shape. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Now, what if you used a larger infinite power source — say, another black hole — and you punched a wormhole from one side of the paper to the other. What would you have?”
Thinking he understood, King replied immediately. “Teleportation.”
Alexander let a small smile show. “Close. Remember that the wormhole is faster than light. It’s actually a distortion in space-time on both ends of the tunnel, right? Each side having been pushed inward until they meet. Or, in this case, pushed from one side until the tunnel blasts through the other side. In fact, imagine that instead of a black hole, you have a small ring of collapsing micro-stars that have yet to become black holes. Now picture them rotating and glowing, like the ring around Saturn.” Alexander drew a circle in the air with his finger. “Centrifugal force keeps it all from forming a singularity — or multiple micro-singularities. So there’s no gravitational force at the center of the ring, which would tear you — or anything — apart, as we saw in Paris. Instead, it’s just the opposite. A complete absence of gravity, like floating in space. Low friction. Easy to blast through the center of it, if you had a rocket or a faster-than-light drive of some sort. Keeping in mind the two sheet example, if the tunnel was only an inch thick, or less, even minimal force might be used to get from one side to the other. Theoretically, you would still be travelling faster than light once you entered the tunnel. Distances shrink, and space-time itself ceases to function as it would if you remained on the first sheet.”
“I think I get that,” King said, nodding. “So what happens? Where do you go?”
Alexander stood slowly, then offered King his hand. “Follow me.”
King snatched the AK, took Alexander’s hand and was pulled to his feet.
Alexander led them with the small keychain light to a broad opening in the wall and turned left, to a tunnel hewn from the rock itself. Twenty feet later, the tunnel dead-ended in a long sloping pile of rubble. Alexander turned to the pile and started ascending the slope of scree. King followed him up the loose rocks. Far ahead and above them, there was an opening to the bright blue sky. Alexander moved surely on the loose rock. He reached the top of the underground hill and the opening in minutes. King went slower, because of his rib, but he reached the surface shortly after the larger man.
At the top of the slope, they were outdoors. A brilliant cloudless blue sky greeted them, with a blazing yellow sun over head. King was relieved that it appeared he was still on Earth. Around them and behind them, the landscape was barren rock and sand. In front of them, twenty feet away, was a beautiful turquoise ocean, casting waves at an immense natural barrier of piled rocks that stretched over three hundred feet along the shore. King could see a more sandy beach to the left of the rocky barrier, and the land rose to larger rocks and boulders at the other end of the barrier.
Alexander turned around in a full circle, a broad beaming smile on his face. Then he looked at King and held his arms out to the side, encouraging King to take in the vista.
“The question, Jack, is not ‘where do you go?’ It’s when do you go.”
King looked at the man. He wanted to tell Alexander he was insane. Wanted to write off his claim as a delusion. But he couldn’t. How could someone who’d traveled between worlds believe moving through time was impossible?
Shit.
Alexander continued to sweep his hands around at the landscape. “Look around you, Jack. We are still in Carthage. We are standing outside the Omega facility, and what will one day be the ruins of Carthage. Except the buildings those ruins once were in our time, are not even here yet. Carthage has yet to be built!”
King looked at the shoreline. He had studied maps of the area before arriving from Malta, and he had looked at a map on the laptop with Asya all afternoon. He understood what Alexander was saying. He made mental adjustments for the slight alteration of the coast by time and erosion.
He was looking at the coastline of Carthage.
He drew in a deep breath. The mild pain in his ribs, dulled by the ibuprofen, assured him he wasn’t dreaming. He knew Alexander was telling the truth. They’d traveled backwards through time. It was ridiculous, but not impossible. In his mind, nothing was impossible. Not anymore. But one question remained unanswered. “When are we?”
Alexander looked him in the eye. “800 BC, give or take a year.”
TWENTY-SIX
“That’s…” King cleared his throat. “That’s a long time ago.” Even in the alternate dimension, he’d never felt so far from home.
“Actually, it’s now,” Alexander said, walking toward the breakwater of giant stones.
King followed him up the rise, taking in the view of the pristine Gulf of Tunis. He looked around again in a full circle. Untouched rocks and sand for as far as he could see, in most directions. Far north along the coast he thought he could make out a structure, but it would have to be only a single story building — possibly a rock. But the geography of the coastline was accurate. He tried to wrap his mind around it. He was seeing Tunisia before it was occupied. Then a history lesson caught up with him. “Wasn’t there a Phoenician city here before the Romans?”
Alexander was stalking around the breakwater, looking at rocks, and sometimes squatting down to peer closely at them before standing in a huff and looking elsewhere. He pointed absentmindedly behind him, at the large boulders to the south of the breakwater.