Hold Up the Sky

CONTRACTION

The contraction will start one hour, twenty-four minutes, seventeen seconds before sunrise.

It will be observed in the auditorium of the country’s largest astronomical observatory. The auditorium will receive images sent back from a space telescope in geosynchronous orbit, then project them onto a gigantic screen about the size of a basketball court. Right now, the screen is still blank. There aren’t many people here, but they are all authorities in theoretical physics, astrophysics, and cosmology, the few people in the world who can truly understand the implications of the moment to come. Waiting for that moment, they sit still, like Adam and Eve, having just been created from mud, waiting for the breath of life from God. The exception is the observatory head, impatiently pacing back and forth.

The gigantic screen isn’t working and the engineer responsible for maintaining it hasn’t shown up yet. If she doesn’t show up in time, the image coming from the space telescope can be projected only on the small screen. The historic sense of the moment will be ruined.

Professor Ding Yi walks into the hall.

The scientists all come to life. They stand in unison. Aside from the universe itself, only he can hold them all in awe.

As usual, Ding Yi holds everyone beneath his notice. He doesn’t greet anyone and he doesn’t sit in the large, comfortable chair prepared for him. Instead, he strolls aimlessly until he reaches a corner of the auditorium, where there’s a large glass cabinet. He admires the large clay plate, one of the observatory head’s local treasures, propped up inside. It’s a priceless relic of the Western Zhou era. Carved onto its surface is a star atlas as seen by the naked eye on a summer night several thousand years ago. Having suffered the ravages of time, the star atlas is now faint and blurred. The starry sky outside the hall, though, is still bright and clear.

Ding Yi digs out a pipe and tobacco from his jacket pocket. Self-assured, he lights the pipe, then takes a puff. This surprises everyone, because he has severe tracheitis. He’s never smoked before and no one has ever dared to smoke around him. Furthermore, smoking is strictly prohibited in the auditorium, and that pipe produces more smoke than ten cigarettes.

However, Professor Ding is entitled to do anything he wants. He founded the unified field theory, realizing Albert Einstein’s dream. The series of predictions his theory has made about space over a vast scale have all been confirmed by actual observations. For three years, as many as a hundred supercomputers ran a mathematical model of the unified field theory nonstop and obtained a result that was hard to believe: The universe that had been expanding for about fourteen billion years would, in two years, start collapsing. Now, out of those two years, there’s only one hour left.

White smoke lingers around his head. It forms a dreamlike pattern, as if his incredible ideas are floating out of his mind….

Cautiously, the observatory head approaches Ding Yi. “Professor Ding, the governor will be here. Persuading her to accept the invitation wasn’t easy. Please, I beg you, use the influence you have so that she’ll increase our funding. Originally, we weren’t going to bother you with this, but the observatory is out of funds. The national government can’t give us any more money this year. We can only ask the province. We are the main observatory for the country. You can see what we’ve been reduced to. We can’t even afford the electric bill for our radio telescope. We’re already trying now to figure out what to do about this.” The observatory head points to the ancient star atlas plate Ding Yi has been admiring. “If selling antiquities weren’t illegal, we would have sold it long ago.”

At that moment, the governor and her entourage of two enter the auditorium. The exhaustion on their faces drags a thread of the mundane into this otherworldly place.

“My apologies. Oh. Hello, Professor Ding. Everyone. So sorry for being late. This is the first time it hasn’t been pouring outside in days. We’re still worried about flooding. The Yangtze River is close to its 1998 record high.”

Excitedly, the observatory head welcomes the governor and brings her to Ding Yi. “Why don’t we have Professor Ding introduce you to the idea of universal contraction….” He winks at Ding Yi.

“Why don’t I first explain what I understand, then Professor Ding and everyone else can correct me. First, Hubble discovered redshifts. I don’t remember when. The electromagnetic radiation that we measure from a galaxy is shifted toward the red end of the spectrum. This means, according to the Doppler effect, galaxies are receding from us. From that, we can draw this conclusion: The universe is expanding. We can also draw another conclusion: About fourteen billion years ago, the big bang brought the universe into being. If the total mass of the universe is less than some value, the universe will continue to expand forever; if it is greater than that value, then gravity will gradually slow the expansion until it stops and, eventually, gravity will cause it to contract. Previous measurements of the amount of mass in the universe suggested the first alternative. Then we discovered that neutrinos have mass. Moreover, we discovered a vast amount of previously undetected dark matter in the universe. This greatly increased the amount of mass in the universe and people changed their minds in favor of the other alternative, that the universe will expand ever more slowly until it finally starts to contract. All the galaxies in the universe will begin to gather at the gravitational center. At the same time, due to the same Doppler effect, we will see a shift in stars’ electromagnetic radiation toward the blue end of the spectrum, namely a blueshift. Now, Professor Ding’s unified field theory has calculated the exact moment the universe will switch from expansion to contraction.”

“Brilliant!” The observatory head claps his hands a few times flatteringly. “So few leaders have such an understanding of fundamental theory. I bet even Professor Ding thinks so.” He winks again at Ding Yi.

“What she said is basically correct.” Ding Yi slowly knocks the ash from his pipe onto the carpet.

“Right, right. If Professor Ding thinks so—” The observatory head beams with happiness.

“Just enough to show her superficiality.” Ding Yi digs more tobacco out of his coat pocket.

The observatory head freezes. The scientists around him titter.

The governor smiles tolerantly. “I also majored in physics, but the last thirty years, I’ve forgotten practically all of it. Compared to you all here, my knowledge of physics and cosmology, I’m afraid, isn’t even superficial. Hell, I only remember Newton’s three laws.”

“But that’s a long way from understanding it.” Ding Yi lights his newly filled pipe.

The observatory head shakes his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“Professor Ding, we live in two completely different worlds.” The governor sighs. “My world is a practical one. No poetry. Bogged down with details. We spend our days bustling around like ants, and like ants, our view is just as limited. Sometimes, when I leave my office at night, I stop to look up at the stars. A luxury that’s hard to come by. Your world is brimming with wonder and mystery. Your thoughts stretch across hundreds of light-years of space and billions of years of time. To you, the Earth is just a speck of dust in the universe. To you, this era is just an instant in time too short to measure. The entire universe seems to exist to satisfy your curiosity and fulfill your existence. To be frank, Professor Ding, I truly envy you. I dreamed of this when I was young, but to enter your world was too difficult.”

“But it’s not too difficult tonight. You can at least stay in Professor Ding’s world for a while. See the world’s greatest moment together,” the observatory head says.

“I’m not so lucky. Everyone, I’m extremely sorry. The Yangtze dykes are ready to burst. I must go right away to make sure that doesn’t happen. Before I go, though, I still have some questions I’d like to ask Professor Ding. You’ll probably find these questions childish, but I’ve thought hard about them and I still don’t understand. First question: The sign of contraction is the universe changing from redshift to blueshift. We will see light from all the galaxies shift toward blue at the same time. However, right now, the farthest galaxies we can observe are about fourteen billion light-years away. According to your calculations, the entire universe will contract at the same moment. If that’s the case, it should be about fourteen billion years before we can see the blueshift from them. Even the closest star system, Alpha Centauri, should still need four years.”

Ding Yi slowly lets out a puff of smoke. It floats in the air like a shrinking spiral galaxy.

“Very good. You can understand a little. It makes you seem like a physics student, albeit still a superficial one. Yes, we will see all the stars in the universe blueshift at the same time, not one at a time from four years to fourteen billion years from now. This is due to quantum effects over a cosmic scale. Its mathematical model is extremely complex. It’s the most difficult idea in physics and cosmology to explain. I have no hope of making you understand it. From this, though, you’ve already received the first revelation. It warns you that the effects produced from the universe contracting will be more complex than what people imagine. Do you still have questions? Oh, you don’t have to go right away. What you have to take care of is not as urgent as you think.”

“Compared to your entire universe, the flooding of the Yangtze River is obviously not worth mentioning. But while the mysterious universe admittedly has its appeal, the real world still takes priority. I have other questions, but I really must go. Thank you, Professor Ding, for the physics lesson. I hope everyone sees what they want to see tonight.”

“You don’t understand what I mean,” Ding Yi says. “There must be many workers battling the flood right now.”

“I have my responsibilities, Professor Ding. I must go.”

“You still don’t understand what I mean. I’m saying those workers must be extremely tired. You can let them go.”

Everyone is dumbstruck.

“What… let them go? To do what? Watch the universe contract?”

“If they aren’t interested, they can go home and sleep.”

“Professor Ding, surely you’re joking!”

“I’m serious. There’s no point to what they’re doing.”

“Why?”

“Because of the contraction.”

After a long silence, the governor points at the ancient star atlas plate displayed in the corner of the auditorium: “Professor Ding, the universe has been expanding all along, but from ancient times until today, the universe that we can see hasn’t changed much. Contracting is the same. The extent of humanity in space-time, compared to that of the universe, is negligible. Besides the importance to pure theory, I don’t believe the contraction will have any effect on human life. In fact, after one hundred million years, we still won’t observe even a tiny shift caused by contraction, assuming we’re still around.”

“One and a half billion years,” Ding Yi says. “Even with our most accurate instruments, it will be one and a half billion years before we can observe the shift. By then, the sun will already have gone out. We probably won’t be around.”

“And the complete contraction of the universe needs about fourteen billion years. Humanity is a dewdrop on the great tree of the universe. During its brief life span, it absolutely cannot perceive the maturing of the great tree. You surely don’t believe the ridiculous rumors from the internet that the contraction will squash the Earth flat!”

A young woman enters, her face pale and her gaze gloomy. She’s the engineer responsible for the gigantic screen.

“Miss Zhang, this is inexcusable! Do you know what time it is?” The flustered observatory head rushes to her as he shouts.

“My father just died at the hospital.”

The observatory head’s anger dissipates instantly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Can you take a look…”

The engineer doesn’t say any more. She just walks silently over to the computer that controls the screen and sinks herself into diagnosing the problem. Ding Yi, biting his pipe, walks over to her slowly.

“If you truly understood the meaning of the universe contracting, your father’s death wouldn’t grieve you so much.”

Ding Yi’s words infuriate everyone there. The engineer stands suddenly. Her face grows red with fury. Tears fill her eyes.

“You’re not from this world! Perhaps compared to your universe, fathers aren’t much, but mine’s important to me. They’re important to us ordinary people! And your contraction, that’s just the frequency of light that can’t possibly be weaker in the night sky changing a little. Without precise instruments to amplify it over ten thousand times, no one can see even the change, not to mention the light in the first place. What is the contraction? As far as ordinary people are concerned, it’s nothing! The universe expanding or contracting, what’s the difference? But fathers are important to us. Do you understand?”

When the engineer realizes who she lost her temper to, she masters herself, then turns back to her work.

Ding Yi sighs, shaking his head. He says to the governor, “Yes, like you said, two worlds. Our world.” He waves his hand, drawing a circle around the physicists and cosmologists in the room, then points at the physicists. “Small scale is ten-quadrillionths of a millimeter.” He points at the cosmologists. “Large scale is ten billion light-years. This is a world that you can grasp only through imagination. Your world has the floods of the Yangtze River, tight budgets, dead and living fathers… a practical world. But what’s lamentable is people always want to separate the two worlds.”

“But you can see that they’re separate,” the governor says.

“No! Although elementary particles are tiny, we are made of them. Although the universe is vast, we are inside it. Every change in the microscopic and macroscopic world affects everything.”

“But what is the coming contraction going to affect?”

Ding Yi starts to laugh loudly. It’s not a nervous laugh. It seems to embody something mystical. It scares the hell out of everyone.

“Okay, physics student. Please recite what you remember about the relationship between space-time and matter.”

The governor, like a pupil, recites: “As proved by the theories of relativity and quantum physics that form modern physics, time and space cannot be separated from matter. They have no independent existence. There is no absolute space-time. Time, space, and the material world are all inextricably linked together.”

“Very good. But who truly understands this? You?” Ding Yi first asks the governor, then turns to the observatory head. “You?” Then to the engineer buried in her work. “You?” Then to the technicians in the auditorium. “You?” Then, finally, to the scientists. “Not even you? No, none of you understand. You still think of the universe in terms of absolute space-time as naturally as you stamp your feet on the ground. Absolute space-time is your ground. You have no way to leave it. Speaking of expansion and contraction, you believe that’s just the stars in space scattering and gathering in absolute space-time.”

As he speaks, he strolls to the glass display case, opens its door, then takes out the irreplaceable star atlas plate. He runs a hand lightly over its surface, admiring it. The observatory head nervously holds his hands beneath the plate to protect it. This treasure has been here for over twenty years and no hand has dared to touch it until now. The observatory head waits anxiously for Ding Yi to put the star atlas plate back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he flings the plate away.

The priceless ancient treasure lies on the carpet, smashed into too many pieces to count.

The air freezes. Everyone stares dumbstruck. Ding Yi continues his leisurely stroll, the only moving element in this deadlocked world. He continues to speak.

“Space-time and matter are not separable. The expansion and contraction of the universe comprises the whole of space-time. Yes, my friends, they comprise all of time and space!”

Another cracking sound rings through the room. It’s a glass cup that fell out of a physicist’s grasp. What shocks the physicists isn’t what shocks everyone else. It isn’t the star atlas plate. It’s what Ding Yi’s words imply.

“What you’re saying…” A cosmologist fixes his gaze on Ding Yi. His words catch in his throat.

“Yes.” Ding Yi nods, then says to the governor, “They understand now.”

“So, this is the meaning of the negative time parameter in the calculated result of the unified mathematical model?” a physicist blurts. Ding Yi nods.

“Why didn’t you announce this to the world earlier? You have no sense of responsibility!” another physicist shouts.

“What would be the point? It could have only caused global chaos. What can we do about space-time?”

“What are you all talking about?” the governor asks, bewildered.

“The contraction…” the observatory head, also an astrophysicist, mumbles as if he were dreaming. “The contraction of the universe will influence humanity?”

“Influence? No, it will change it completely.”

“What can it change?”

The scientists are scrambling to recalibrate their thoughts. No one answers him.

“Tell me, all of you, when the universe contracts or when the blueshift starts, what will happen?” the governor, now worried, asks.

“Time will play back,” Ding Yi answers.

“… Play back?” The governor looks at the observatory head, puzzled, then at Ding Yi.

“Time will flow backward,” the observatory head says.

The gigantic screen has been repaired. The magnificent universe appears on it. To better observe the contraction, computers process the image the space telescope returns to exaggerate the effect of the frequency shift in the visual range. Right now, the light all the stars and galaxies emit appears red on the screen to represent the redshift of the still-expanding universe. Once the contraction starts, they will all turn blue at once. A countdown appears on a corner of the screen: 150 seconds.

“Time has followed the expansion of the universe for about fourteen billion years, but now, there isn’t even three minutes of expansion left. Afterward, time will follow the contraction of the universe. Time will flow backward.” Ding Yi walks over to the stupefied observatory head, pointing at the smashed star atlas plate. “Don’t worry about this relic. Not long after the blueshift, its shattered pieces will fuse back together like new. It will return to the display case. After many years, it will return to the ground where it was buried. After thousands of years, it will return to a burning kiln, then become a ball of moist clay in the hands of an ancient astronomer….”

He walks to the young engineer. “And you don’t need to grieve your father. He will come back to life and you two will reunite soon. If your father is so important to you, then you should take comfort from this because, in the contracting universe, he will live longer than you. He will see you, his daughter, leave the world. Yes, we old folk will have all just started life’s journey and you young folk will have already entered your declining years. Or maybe your childhood.”

He returns to the governor. “If there is no past, the Yangtze River will never overflow its dykes during your term of office because there’s only one hundred seconds left to this universe. The contracting universe’s future is the expanding universe’s past. The greatest danger won’t occur until 1998. By then, though, you will be a child. It won’t be your responsibility. There’s still a minute. It doesn’t matter what you do now. There won’t be any consequences in the future. Everyone can do what they like and not worry about the future. There is no future now. As for me, I now just do what I wanted to do but couldn’t because of my tracheitis.” He digs out a bowl of tobacco from a pocket with his pipe. He lights the pipe, then smokes contentedly.

The blueshift countdown: fifty seconds.

“This can’t be!” the governor shouts. “It’s illogical. Time playing back? If everything will go in reverse, are you saying that we’ll speak backward? That’s inconceivable!”

“You’ll get used to it.”

The blueshift countdown: forty seconds.

“In other words, afterward, everything will be repeated. History and life will become boring and predictable.”

“No, it won’t. You will be in another time. The current past will become your future. We are now in the future of that time. You can’t remember the future. Once the blueshift starts, your future will become blank. You won’t remember any of it. You won’t know any of it.”

The blueshift countdown: twenty seconds.

“This can’t be!”

“As you will discover, going from old age to youth, from maturity to naïveté, is quite rational, quite natural. If anyone speaks about time going in another direction, you will think he’s a fool. There’s about ten seconds left. Soon, in about ten seconds, the universe will pass through a strange point. Time won’t exist in that moment. After that, we will enter the contracting universe.”

The blueshift countdown: eight seconds.

“This can’t be! This really can’t be!!”

“No matter. You’ll know soon.”

The blueshift countdown: five, four, three, two, one, zero.

The starlight in the universe changes from a troublesome red to an empty white…

… time reaches a strange point…

… starlight changes from white to a beautiful, tranquil blue. The blueshift has begun. The contraction has begun.

…

…

.nugeb sah noitcartnoc ehT .nugeb sah tfihseulb ehT .eulb liuqnart ,lufituaeb a ot etihw morf segnahc thgilrats…

… tniop egnarts a sehcaer emit…

… etihw ytpme na ot der emoselbuort a morf segnahc esrevinu eht ni thgilrats ehT

.orez ,eno ,owt ,eerht ,ruof ,evif :nwodtnuoc tfihseulb ehT

“.noos wonk ll’uoY .rettam oN”

“!!eb t’nac yllaer sihT !eb t’nac sihT”

.sdnoces thgie :nwodtnuoc tfihseulb ehT

“.esrevinu gnitcartnoc eht retne lliw ew ,taht retfA .tnemom taht ni tsixe t’now emiT .tniop egnarts a hguorht ssap lliw esrevinu eht ,sdnoces net tuoba ni ,nooS .tfel sdnoces net tuoba s’erehT .loof a s’eh kniht lliw uoy ,noitcerid rehtona ni gniog emit tuoba skaeps enoyna fI .larutan etiuq…

…