29.
***
Lynette and Scott stayed up into the small hours of that night, researching and trying to make sense of what new event was transpiring in Kevin's life.
"Got it," she said.
"What?" said Scott, putting away Kevin's laptop. She had been working on her own computer, and Scott had taken over Kevin's when her son went back to bed, both of them searching the 'net for some kind of clue as to what the long strings of mathematical ciphers that Kevin had written could mean.
"He wasn't saying 'Witten was white,'" said Lynette. "He was saying 'Witten was right.'"
"Oh," said Scott, trying to imply by his tone that she had made no further sense at all.
"It's right here," she said. "Edward Witten is a theoretical physicist."
"Naturally," said Scott.
"Don't be mad just because you haven't figured out what's going on yet."
"Mad? Dear heavens, you'd be rescuing us," Scott said with a smile. She liked it when he smiled. It did wonderful things to his face, changing it from something closed and guarded to something entirely new; something open and pleasant.
"Witten is a physicist who works on string theory."
"Oh," said Scott again.
"You mean you didn't know that?" said Lynette with an exaggerated shake of the head and a few tsk-tsks thrown in for good measure. "And you call yourself a teacher?"
"Physical Education. It's not the same as theoretical physics. Though they both have 'phys' in them, so I can see why you'd be fooled."
"String theory argues that all matter is made up of different kinds of strings. The paper you found, the one that Kevin was quoting in his laptop, was a paper about some basic string theory-related stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"Beats me," admitted Lynette. "I'm an accountant, not a theoretical physicist, though they both deal with numbers, so I can see why you'd be fooled."
Scott smirked. "Touché," he said.
"Anyway, it looks like Kevin has been doing some kind of mathematical computations of his own."
"And?"
"And apparently he thinks that some of the basic foundations of string theory geometry are incorrect."
Scott gaped at her. She couldn't blame him. The idea that a nine year old boy could even grasp what string theory was, let alone write commentary on it, was beyond her understanding as well.
"So what did this Witten do, exactly?"
"Well, basically, there are several different kinds of string theory. They all have different ways of looking at the universe. Witten's biggest contribution to the theory has been to prove that several of the major theories of string theory are in fact the same thing."
"Wait, a bunch of geniuses needed someone to point out that the same thing is the same thing?" said Scott.
"Don't get uppity. Basically there's been a problem in physics for the last few decades."
"Only one?" said Scott.
"If you're going to keep interrupting...," began Lynette.
Scott wrapped his hands around his hot cocoa and grinned impishly. "Never," he said.
"The basic problem is that Einstein's theories of general relativity - which is a fancy term for gravity - doesn't get along too well with some parts of quantum physics. So some brainiacs came up with string theory as a way to reconcile the parts that don't work. Instead of things being made of matter or energy - or both, as Einstein thought - string theory says that all objects in our universe are made up of either vibrating filaments called strings, or something called branes."
"Brains? As in the thing zombies eat?"
"No, not brains, branes. B-R-A-N-E-S. I think it's short for membranes." Lynette took a moment to sip at her own cocoa before continuing. "Anyway, string theory, uh, theorizes that there's this connection called supersymmetry that exists between different types of particles in our universe. The supersymmetry theory is that there are two types of particles called bosons and fermions, and there is exactly one fermion for every boson."
"Supersymmetry: the Love Connection of string theory."
"Not far wrong," said Lynette. "So one of the neat things about string theory is that it allows for different dimensions to exist. Seems to insist on it, in fact. And each particle - or string, or whatever, I'm probably screwing this up, but it's the best I can do - has a partner in one of the other dimensions. Superpartners."
"Wonder Twin Powers, activate!"
Lynette rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh a bit as well. "So anyway, there are all these different kinds of string theory. In the nineteen seventies, string theories were shown to require extra dimensions, but the physicists were still arguing about what set of mathematical equations were the right ones. But in the mid-nineties, a guy named Edward Witten -"
"As in, 'Witten was white.'"
"Right," nodded Lynette. "He proposed M-theory, which was basically a way of showing that all the major superstring theories were really one and the same, just viewed from different angles."
"And that's where you've lost me again."
Lynette thought for a moment. "You ever seen those pictures where one person looks at it and it seems to be an old crone, but another person looks at the same picture and it appears to that person as if it is a beautiful young woman?"
Scott nodded. "Optical illusions."
"Right! That's what this Witten guy did. He basically said that the strings that compose the universe, since they are strings, can be wrapped around things in different ways. So if you look at them in one configuration, you get one mathematical superstring theory, but if you look at them in another configuration, you get a different mathematical superstring theory. So it's not that any of the theories were incorrect, it's just that they were different ways of looking at the building blocks of the universe."
Scott was silent for a long moment, sipping his cocoa. And for some reason, Lynette was fine with that. Some people had to fill every moment with conversation, for no other reason than because they were afraid to be alone together. But she didn't feel that way around Scott. Just being beside him, working in unison on this problem of what was going on with Kevin - and, by extension, on the problem of Mr. Gray and John Doe - was enough for her. If he wanted to talk, fine. If not, she could think of far worse ways to spend an evening than sitting beside him.
Finally, he spoke. "Extra dimensions, huh?"
"Yeah, that's what this says. I think. Of course, it could be that I've just been reading a really detailed recipe for lemon cake with as much as I know about the stuff. But yeah, extra dimensions are definitely mentioned all over the place. Why?"
Scott said nothing for another moment, sipping his cocoa as though savoring it were the most important thing he had to do. Finally he spoke.
"Do you think Mr. Gray is from another dimension?"
Lynette almost guffawed in spite of herself. "Another dimension like, The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits kind of thing? Little green men and wormholes in space?"
Scott nodded. He didn't look like he was on the verge of laughing, either. In fact, he looked more serious than she had seen him since she brought up the whole idea of string theory.
"No, I don't think so," she finally said.
Scott nodded. "Me neither. I think that Mr. Gray was a hitman, pure and simple, who got caught up in this somehow just like we did. But," he said, and reached across the table to take her hand as though the importance of what he was about to say demanded physical contact, "here's a tougher question: do you think John Doe might be from another dimension?" Before Lynette could answer, he continued, "I mean, think about it: he disappears and reappears, seemingly at will; he knows things about the future, like where and when you and Kevin were going to move into the area; and he frankly just seems slightly off to me, like he doesn't belong somehow."
"I thought you said he was nice."
"Oh, he seemed nice enough, with the exception of knocking me down and drugging me. But he just seemed...I don't know. He seemed like he didn't belong here somehow." Scott leaned back. "I could just be talking out of my behind."
Lynette glanced below the table. "It's not a bad behind to be talking out of."
Scott blushed, which Lynette would have thought was immensely cute if she had not been intensely blushing herself.
What possessed me to say that? she thought to herself.
The she looked down and realized that, although Scott had just leaned back, he had not relinquished his hold on her hand. As though he, too, realized the same thing at that instant, Scott started to withdraw his hand. But she clenched her fingers tightly around his and did not let him go.
Her son was suddenly writing mathematical equations so complex that she had no chance of doing more than figuring out the general idea of the general idea of what he was typing about.
A man known only as John Doe had apparently decided to serve as some kind of part-time adviser from another dimension.
And there was a madman after her, Kevin, and Scott, who apparently had supernatural abilities and certainly had the will and skill to kill.
But in that moment, all of that seemed very far away. All that seemed up close and important, right then, was his hand. His fingers intertwined with hers. His eyes looking closely at her.
And his smile resting as light as a cloud on her face.
***