Synchronicity

Teodosia ducked as her young opponent threatened her skull with a swing of her left hand finbo — the simple wooden weapon wielded by stick fighters. Spinning her own pair of finbos, she searched for an opening. Her inexperienced foe prepared to strike again and, in doing so, exposed her throat. Teodosia considered taking advantage, but such an attack could cause serious harm. She didn't wish to hurt the girl. However, she must act soon. Her shoulders and arms ached. Nearing fifty, she no longer enjoyed the stamina and strength of youth. At least she had experience on her side.

Noting her sparring partner masking a limp, she smiled. With her loose dreadlocks and slender, ebony limbs wrapped in colourful Maasai robes, Sylvia reminded Teodosia of herself when she first entered Kenyatta University. Teodosia came to Nairobi on an athletic scholarship and chose her major on a whim. She never dreamed theoretical physics would come to consume her life. Once the works of Maxwell and Schrödinger introduced her to a world beyond the mundane, her original dream of professional sports fell by the wayside.

Yet she still enjoyed these early morning sparing sessions in the campus gymnasium. The smell of clean sweat and leather transported her back in time and allowed Teodosia to escape her busy schedule for a while. The physical exercise also provided the mental focus required for her complex research. That was especially important today of all days. Thinking of which, it was time to finish this fight so she could get back to work. Finbos were not her only weapons. Feigning a strike with her left finbo, she thrust her right foot into Sylvia’s stomach.

The youth doubled over and collapsed onto the padded training mat.

“Focus,” instructed Teodosia. “You left yourself vulnerable. Synchronise your finbos’ movements. Think of them as one weapon, not two separate finbos.” Her own twirling finbos reminded her how similar versions of Earth within the Multiverse spun with a synchronicity that belied the subtle differences in their orbits around their respective suns.

Sylvia struggled to her feet. “Thank you, Professor. I will try harder.”

Teodosia returned her finbos to their stand and grabbed a towel from the rail beside the door. “That’s enough for this morning. Let’s pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it, ma’am. And I’ll see you later with my camera.”

“Don’t be late. Footage of today’s experiment could win the Pulitzer.”

Sylvia shook her head, probably thinking Teodosia joked. She didn’t.

After showering and changing into a white blouse and a pair of trousers, she exited into the lush green gardens of Kenyatta University’s East Coast Campus. This new teaching and research complex was proposed after archaeologists surveying this remote region stumbled upon Waungwana ruins a decade ago. At first, only the archaeology department showed any interest. However, Teodosia soon perceived the untapped potential of this site for her own research. Since then, other academic departments had established outposts, including the media department where Sylvia studied.

Teodosia marched across the diagonal path bisecting the largest quadrangle on campus and entered the concrete and glass structure that housed the theoretical physics department. Though modern in design, this building concealed the ruins of a tiny masjid inside its heart. The ancient structure remained untouched for centuries, which made it perfect for her purposes. She walked down three corridors and through two security checkpoints before arriving outside her laboratory. There she nodded to the two armed guards.

“May I see your ID, ma’am?” asked one.

She dutifully plucked the ID from her pocket.

“Thanks. Sorry to delay you.”

“Don’t be sorry. Your vigilance is commendable.”

She pressed her thumb against the biometric lock. It clicked, and the heavy door swung outwards. Stepping inside, she breathed in the sterile air of her queendom. After slipping on a lab coat, she powered up her laptop and checked her calculations for the hundredth time. As expected, they were perfect.

Today, she and her small team would make history. Her invention would change the world. Just as importantly, for the first time in modern history, Africa would be at the forefront of a major paradigm shift in science and engineering. This was the most important breakthrough in humanity’s brief span of existence. It was only fitting that Homo sapiens’ first venture into the Multiverse should set forth from the Cradle of Mankind. Her portal opening machine would bring prosperity to Kenya and boost economies across Africa. No longer would the Dark Continent limp behind the West in terms of science and wealth. Instead, the rest of the world must play catch up.

She took the traditional-looking necklace from around her neck and plugged the attached flash drive into her laptop. The valuable data pertaining to this project only existed in two locations: her laptop and this flash drive. The risk of industrial espionage was too high to consider storing the complex equations and associated statistics elsewhere but keeping two copies significantly decreased the risk of accidental loss. She uploaded the latest results to her flash drive and put the necklace back on.

Stepping through an airlock into the inner sanctum of her laboratory, she shook her head. Who would have thought ghosts were real? Rumours spread by the first archaeologists who explored this site clued her into the possibilities. Only she had understood that ghosts were misinterpreted. These seemingly supernatural phenomena were accidental travellers who slipped from one closely related dimension to another then back again. Unbendable laws of physics prevented them remaining for more than a fleeting moment. Ancient ruins provided the optimum conditions for synchronicity between alternative worlds. As realities spontaneously split to create viable alternate timelines, structures left untouched for centuries became locations where little changed between dimensions. At these focal points, alternative realities remained so similar that transition from one to another became possible when all the other elements aligned exactly.

She walked around the sprawling mess of exposed, colourful wiring and gigantic electromagnets dominating the spacious room. Each complex component was configured according to an exact pattern predicted by her calculations. At the heart of this machine stood an ancient doorway that had remained unaltered for years. With larger ruins elsewhere around this area, this structure had been overlooked when the other more exciting ancient buildings were excavated. The door originally served as the main entrance to the masjid but now only connected one area of open ruins to another. Beautiful Arabic script decorated its arch proclaiming the glory of Allah. This was fitting for a location where she soon intended to play God.

As she admired the elaborate carvings, her three research assistants entered.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Shall we make history together?”

They nodded with excited grins. She had hand-picked these three graduate students. Each young man was gifted in his field yet none was capable of reproducing the others’ work or fully comprehending her theories. Without Teodosia to coordinate their efforts, it would be impossible for this trio to replicate her work. Within minutes, the three assistants stood ready to play their parts.

Sylvia entered, now wearing Western clothing, video camera in hand. Because Sylvia was a media student, she wouldn’t understand much that happened here today, but she could create a riveting documentary to showcase Teodosia’s work.

One of the assistants manoeuvred a small, four-wheeled robot into position in front of the ancient doorway. Though it looked like those used on Mars missions, it was actually purchased from the Kenya Police Service Anti-Terrorist Unit. They used this machine to defuse terrorist bombs. She repurposed it to make history.

Sylvia aimed her camera at the portal opening machine, and a green light lit.

Teodosia motioned to her team. “You know what to do.”

The assistants pressed buttons and set dials. The huge magnets hummed into life. Static electricity crackled in her hair as microscopic particles all around oscillated, rapidly changing position, trying different orientations until the exact pattern existed in this world to match another very similar version of Earth. An LED flashed indicating synchronicity had been achieved. This enabled a tear to be ripped through the fabric of reality. Feeling like Ground Control during the inaugural Apollo spaceflight, she counted: “Ten, nine, eight…”

A swirling white light manifested inside the ancient doorway. Her heart raced as she witnessed the physical realisation of her theories. This was success beyond her wildest dreams. The light slowly expanded until it encompassed the entire space. The arch no longer entered the ruined masjid in their world. Now it provided a portal into an alternative reality.

Sylvia’s eyes widened, and she gaped at the spectacle. “What in Heaven’s name is it?”

“Eureka,” whispered Teodosia.

The assistants grinned and lifted their chins to one another as if they were the ones who created this miracle. Teodosia ignored their jubilation and smothered her own excitement. “Get to work, guys!” She checked the readout on her display, making notes on her laptop about the radiation emanating from the portal. The levels were higher than expected. “Roll out the robot.”

The robot whirred into action, headed towards the light. Delicate sensory equipment attached to its surface relayed back normal background radiation levels, air composition, humidity, and temperature readings. A camera attached to its head provided high-definition video. The signal strength was strong, and Teodosia hoped this would continue when the robot passed through the archway. As it disappeared into the light, she held her breath. The signal remained strong. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled. Her screen displayed an area of open ruins encased within a modern room identical to the one inside which she now stood. The robot turned in a circle, and the picture changed dramatically.

“What in Hell’s name is that?” she asked.

On her screen, a huge gap appeared in the wall. Black smoke billowed through. Fire became visible behind. Her dials indicated high levels of radiation and toxicity. From where she stood, Teodosia smelled smoke. “Power down the magnets,” she ordered. “Something’s wrong.”

A dark shadow flashed across the screen, headed past the robot towards the portal. A fearsome woman jumped through the archway. She wore a tattered Army uniform with hand grenades hanging from her belt. Because of the sneer twisting her dirt-smeared and scared face, it took Teodosia a moment to recognise herself in the woman’s features.

Sylvia screamed. The assistants froze in terror. The doppelgänger ignored them all and hurtled towards Teodosia. Twin finbos appeared in the ferocious woman’s hands. Teodosia only had a split second to register surprise before her double thrust a finbo straight into her throat. She choked and collapsed to her knees. Her doppelgänger followed up with multiple blows to her head. Agony wracked her skull. Her vision faded to black.

***

Teodosia stared at her deceased alternate self and dropped her finbos with a clatter. What a tragic waste. But there was no time for remorse. In her own world, enemy soldiers would overrun the campus within the hour. Her duty was to erase all evidence of her mistake. She tore the necklace and attached flash drive from the corpse’s ruined neck and glared at the trembling assistants, who each stepped backwards. Snatching up the blood-splattered laptop, she edged towards the swirling portal. “Stay back!”

They would never comprehend what she sacrificed to save this version of reality from the chaos that infected hers. Grasping a grenade in each hand, she gripped the safety pin rings in her teeth. The metallic tang of cold steel mingled with the taste of blood that was at the same time both hers and not hers. Teodosia pulled the pins and rolled the grenades beneath the two most vulnerable parts of the portal opening machine. “You have four seconds. Run!”

She slipped back through the portal into a smoke-filled hell. Laboratory equipment burned nearby. She tossed the necklace and laptop into the flames. Before this day ended, nothing would survive that enabled others to reproduce her work. Not even herself.




Word Count: 1997



Written for:

SURVEY

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