Free Schrodinger's Gat by Robert Kroese Page A

better off doing it with your fingers,” says Heller. “Your unconscious is unlikely to cooperate because it probably has better things to do. Anyway, that’s the problem with studies of psychokinesis, or telekinesis as it’s popularly known. They start by telling the subject, ‘Do X with your mind.’ So the subject tries to do X , but their subconscious is thinking about the shoes they’re going to buy with the money they got for doing the study. The psionic field detectors work the other way around. They look for disturbances in the statistical distribution of events on a quantum level and then try to locate the mind associated with the disturbance. The disturbances are faint, though, and there’s a lot of noise, so at this point we can only detect a pattern when several quantum brains in close proximity experience what we call a ‘catastrophic neural shutdown’ nearly simultaneously.”
    “ Like if there’s a mass shooting on Pier 39.”
    “ Precisely.”
    “ I still don’t understand how you can detect these disturbances before the event happens.”
    “ Ah,” he says, nodding. “That has to do with probabilistic futures. You see, there isn’t just one future; there’s an infinite range of possible futures, some more probable than others. All of these futures ‘exist,’ in a sense, but some are much more probable than others. The disturbances from the quantum brains extend a ways into spacetime, both forward and backward. The more probable the outcome, the stronger the impression is. So a violent death that is very likely to happen leaves a stronger impression than a less likely one. The overall strength of the impression is a function of how many people are involved, how probable the event is, and its proximity to the detector in spacetime.”
    “ And by ‘detector,’ you mean this doodad,” I say, indicating the doodad.
    “ Yes. They’re WiFi enabled, so all the data they gather can be uploaded to a central server. That box right over there.” He points at an ordinary looking tower computer.
    I can ’t help but laugh.
    “ I know,” he says, grinning. “Being a mad scientist ain’t what it used to be.”
    “ So how much advance notice do you get? Tali almost got us killed driving from San Leandro to Embarcadero, but I wasn’t sure if that was because she didn’t get much notice or because she missed her first appointment … oh, shit.”
    I pull my phone from my pocket. It ’s almost four p.m. I promised Deb I’d pick up the kids from soccer practice. I wasn’t that concerned about it when I thought I was going to be dead by now; figured that she’d make alternate arrangements. Death has its drawbacks, but it’s a pretty good excuse for missing appointments.
    “ I’ve got to go,” I say, “or my probable near future is going to get very unpleasant. Have you got a pen and paper?”
    He directs me to a notepad on the workbench. I scribble on it. “That’s my cell number. Please call me if you hear from Tali.” He nods. He doesn’t offer me a number and I don’t press him. “I still have some questions for you. Is it all right if I come back tomorrow? Say around two p.m.?”
    “ I’ll be here,” he says. He seems almost happy to hear that I intend to come back.
    “ Thanks for your hospitality, Dr. Heller. I’ll see myself out.” I shake his hand and leave, running back to my car. There’s no way I’m making it to San Leandro by four fifteen, but with a little luck I might be only fifteen minutes or so late.
    Luck is not on my side today. I ’m half an hour late, and the kids are pissed. They get in the car and slam the doors. Neither of them will talk to me. Just as well. I never know what to say to them. Meet my kids, ladies and gentlemen. Martin, ten and Sylvia, eight. They get A’s and B’s in school, have never been arrested, and are above average at Call of Duty on XBox.
    I drop the kids off and head home. I force myself to do some more unpacking. If I ’m