Free Superposition by David Walton Page B

at one time, whether you’re looking at them or not. But an electron isn’t. It’s smeared out over a whole area, with a certain probability. Or, like the coin, one of its characteristics—heads or tails, or which way it’s spinning—is similarly smeared.”
    She waited. Terry nodded, but whether it was because he understood or because he’d given up, I wasn’t certain.
    â€œNow, entanglement”—Jean cracked her knuckles loudly—“this is where we really start to blow your mind.”
    She moved to flip the coin again, but she was interrupted by a tinny orchestral version of “The Hall of the Mountain King” coming from somewhere under the table. “Excuse me,” she said.
    She lifted her purse, a massive black handbag that could have stored a collapsible tent and still had room for a sleeping bag, and began rummaging through it, trying to home in on the song, which was steadily increasing in volume. Finally, she found it, glanced at the display, then flipped it open and held it up to her ear. “I’m busy, Nick.” She retreated to a corner of the tiny room, facing away from us to imply some measure of privacy.
    â€œIs this all for real?” Terry said.
    â€œIt’s how the world works,” I said. “Everything you do, every day, is governed by this science. It doesn’t usually matter to you, and it’s operating on such a small scale that you never see it. But the reason you can see me right now is because the electrons in my face can absorb and then emit photons, which the electrons in your retina can absorb in turn. There are trillions of particles being annihilated and created in your cells every minute, allowing the electrical interaction necessary for their survival. So yeah, it’s for real.”
    â€œBut the whole bit about the coin being both heads and tails, until you look at it? It sounds ridiculous. How can my looking at something affect what it is?”
    â€œIn the macro world, not so much,” I said. “But you have to remember that in an electron’s world, a single photon is a pretty big deal. ‘Getting looked at’ to an electron means getting whacked by a photon. At that small a scale, looking at something does affect what it is.”
    â€œI can’t talk right now, okay?” Jean said. “I’ll be there when I can. This is important.” A pause. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be doing this to me. Yeah, okay. Bye.”
    She shut the phone with a snap and tossed it back into her cavernous bag.
    â€œSorry,” she said.
    â€œDo you need to go?” I asked. “We could try this again later.” Terry looked sour at the suggestion, but I ignored him.
    â€œNo, it’s nothing,” Jean said, sounding irritated. “I’m staying here as long as I need to, and Nick can just . . . forget it. Let’s get back to work. Where did I put that coin?”
    She found the penny, flipped it, and covered it again. “Okay. This is an electron’s spin state. As we said before, at this moment, since we haven’t looked at it, it’s both heads and tails. Undetermined. Or, for the electron, both up and down. You with me so far?”
    Terry gave an uncertain nod.
    â€œLet’s say that, without looking at the coin, I make a wax impression of both sides. I give one impression to Jacob”—she mimed handing me something which I pretended to take without looking at it—“and I put one in my pocket. Now, which do I have in my pocket, heads or tails?”
    â€œBoth at the same time,” Terry said. “With some probability wave.”
    â€œWhat about him?”
    â€œSame thing.”
    â€œVery good! He can be taught.” She stood and walked over to the corner of the transparent room. “I take my wax impression to Paris. Jacob takes his to Seattle.”
    â€œWhy can’t I go to Paris?” I