This remarkable item is quite unclassifiable. Is it an essay? A story? A fact article? But it very definitely is a fundamental problem of modern science! For those not in the field of modern physics, the current search for monopoles, Quarks, tachyons and gravity waves is accurately described.
The institute for Advanced Studies was situated in a quiet, spacious estate, and its large, airy buildings were surrounded by gardens of considerable beauty. Everything had been done to exclude distracting influences, and to enable those working there to carry on their research without disturbance. On the surface at least, all was peace and harmony.
Smithson was strolling in the grounds, thinking about his work. He was an expert in the philosophy of science, with a subsidiary interest in the psychology of scientists themselves. He had only just come to the Institute, but he had already become aware of the interpersonal tensions which seethed beneath calm surface of the Institute.
Thinking of this, he told himself wryly that there was ample scope here to indulge his subsidiary interest, as well as to work in his main field.
It was a warm day, and he strolled idly through a small wood by the side of a little stream, looking at the multicolored flowers which grew by and in the water. The stream tinkled slightly as it went over a stony part of its bed, and then gurgled down a little waterfall. The sky was blue and the sunrays cut down through the leafy foliage above.
Moss was soft beneath his feet, as he strolled and pondered upon the postulates needed for a system to formalize the process of scientific discovery. Following a path he came to the edge of the wood and saw ahead of him the Institute buildings, big and old, forming a square around a stone quadrangle. Continuing, he was soon out of the wood, coming up the driveway to the main entrance, an ornate arch which led into the quadrangle.
He paused and looked back at the wood, listening to the birdsong from the trees and bushes, smelling the many scents of summer in the air, and hearing all around him the gentle um of insects. To work, he told himself reluctantly. He must go to his workroom and put on paper the postulate system he had been working out as he strolled in the wood, a system which he hoped would make a modest contribution towards the formalization of the processes of science. Turning back to the gateway he began to go through it.
He then heard voices from the window of one of the common lounges. They were angry voices, shouting voices, hoarse with indignation and self-righteousness. Smithson had not been at the Institute long enough to recognize the people involved, but he groaned to himself. How, he asked himself, could he proceed with his work of formalizing the processes of science, when he was continually confronted with the intrusion of the personality of the scientist himself into these processes?
Footsteps became audible from inside the gateway, echoing slightly on the cobbles of the quadrangle. A figure came hurrying round through the gateway, and almost collided with Smithson. It was Professor James, Principal of the Institute, a small and harassed-looking man, rather short-sightedly peering through his steel-rimmed spectacles. He looked up with a start as he saw Smithson.
"Oh, "I’m so sorry, Dr. Smithson," he said. "But I was thinking about something else." The principal looked back anxiously towards the window from which angry voices were still coming.
"Who are they, and what is the matter with them?" asked Smithson, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"It’s Grundsel and Holderness," replied Professor James. "Dear, dear, they are always quarreling. Why can’t they work in peace and discuss their work calmly?"
The principal was having difficulty in controlling his anxiety. He knew who they were, because this scene was by no means unfamiliar to him. They were Holderness and Grundsel, disputing their work as they had done before. Images of them came to the principal’s mind as he listened to their voices. Holderness, a large man who gave the impression of continual and deep irritability, an expert in the field of magnetics, whose current aim was to detect a magnetic monopole. And Grundsel, short and peppery, who was working upon the construction of a psionic detector.
The principal cleaned his glasses in agitation as the quarrel floated clearly down to them from the lounge window. It was getting hotter and more violent now, and the voices were beginning to each round the quadrangle. The principal cringed, and Smithson covertly smiled, at what they heard.
"Charlatans should never be given facilities at a scientific institute," shouted one of the protagonists.
"People who waste their time chasing there products of their won imagination ought to be thrown out on their ears," bawled the other.
Professor James was becoming even more agitated, and Smithson looked longingly out through the gateway, back to the quietness of the wood, wishing that he had stayed there for a bit longer and so avoided being embroiled in this fracas. But he could guess what the principal was going to suggest.
"Dear, dear," said the professor. "How can people work with those two going on like that? I do wish that they would go away and do their research somewhere else, away form each other." He sighed at the remoteness of this wish, and then looked with sudden, transparent hopefulness at Smithson. This was what Smithson had been waiting for, without being able to see any way to avert it.
"Go and see if you can calm them down, Dr. Smithson,." Pleaded the principal. "You are new here, and you might be able to give them a different point of view. At least, you might be able to separate them." He wiped his glasses again. "Please do that. Nobody else here will; bother with them any more, and they don’t seem to take much notice of me."
Smithson smiled to himself as he thought of the diminutive principal coming between any enraged combatants, and agreed to carry out a peace mission. The principal scurried away with a sigh of relief, and Smithson walked into the quadrangle and went through the door and up the stairs to the lounge. He entered, bracing himself against the verbal blasts which were still emerging from the room. His acquaintance with the two men was brief, and he was also uncertain as to how he would be received.
"Gentlemen, please," he said in a conciliatory voice. "Can I help you to resolve your disagreement?" Holderness and Grundsel turned to glare at him, and he recoiled slightly under their intense gaze The lounge was normally a comfortable place, where researchers exchanged ideas while resting in deep armchairs, but it was now deserted except for the two combatants, everyone else having fled.
There was a slight pause. Smithson had interrupted the progress of the quarrel, and he took advantage of this, speaking before they could recover and resume.
"What is the nature of your disagreement?" he asked. "Perhaps you could explain, I can use my own specialty to do something to resolve it." He noted that Holderness and Grundsel were now scowling at him rather than each other, but he felt that even this was an advance, because it was now much quieter. He continued.
"Why don’t you let me see your equipment, and explain the theory behind your work? I have heard briefly about your work, and I am very interested in these problems."
But this was the wrong thing to say, and two voices burst out at the same time.
"We have nothing in common…"
"We don’t work on anything like the same kind of problems…"
Smithson struggled on. With soothing words, he persuaded them at last to take him to look at their latest apparatus. They left the lounge, went down the stairs, out into the quadrangle, and set out towards Holderness’ laboratory. The sun was still shining, and Smithson thought wistfully of the peace in the wood beside the little stream, where he could calmly pursued his plan for the formalization of scientific research.
As they walked across the quadrangle, he caught sigh of the principal, Professor James, returning through the gateway. However, the professor ducked quickly back through the entrance, to wait until they had passed. Smithson could imagine him lurking there, polishing his glasses jubilantly now that quiet had been restored to his Institute.
They continued, Holderness leading the way up some steps at the other side of the quadrangle, to show them into his laboratory where stood his monopole extractor. He assumed his lecture-room manner, and began to explain the apparatus.
"This is a monopole extractor, for the detection of magnetic monopoles. The mono[pole, as you know, was first predicted in 1931 by Dirac, when he carried out his mathematical quantization of the magnetic flux. I will not bore you with details of the theory; I refer you to Dirac’s paper ‘Quantized singularities in the electromagnetic field’, which, I am sure, you are well qualified to study for yourselves."
He paused, trying to look ingratiatingly at Smithson and scornful at Grundsel, simultaneously. The result made Smithson turn away to hide a smile, while Grundsel ground his teeth. Holderness continued.
"Dirac noted that the wave function representing a particle is multi-valued. A change by one period, or wavelength, leaves its amplitude unchanged, which means that it has no physical significance. This makes possible the existence of lines of mathematical singularity, nodal lines of magnetic flux which will not affect the wave functions of other particles, and which therefor, will, no be observable."
He paused again, making another attempt to look pleasantly at Smithson and unpleasantly at Grundsel, simultaneously. The attempt degenerated into a grimace, and Holderness hastily continued.
"But I am sure that I need not go into detail. It is sufficient to say that, although nodal lines themselves are not observable, their points of termination assume physical reality. This point of termination would be a source of a magnetic flux, the equivalent of an isolated magnetic pole. These are magnetic monopoles, stable particles like the electron or the proton."
Holderness turned to demonstrate his apparatus. "This is what I am looking for," he said. "I want to detect magnetic monopoles, something which nobody yet has succeeded in doing. This is not easy. Magnetic monopoles are too massive to be produced in accelerators, so they cannot be made to order. And the probability of their being detected in cosmic radiation is far too low to make it worthwhile trying to detect a natural free monopole. But it has been calculated that natural monopoles will be trapped in ferromagnetic material with enough binding force to withstand external disturbances of a thermal nature, or external magnetic fields. Therefore, magnetic monopoles should accumulate in ferromagnetic material during periods of geological time, and it should be possible to extract them by exposing them to a strong magnetic field."
He drew their attention to the details of the apparatus. "My equipment," he said, "contains a pulsed magnet which generates up to 700 kguass, considerably above what calculations indicate is need to extract monopoles from iron or magnetite."
He showed them the rest of his equipment; acceleration chamber, generator, capacitor bank, high voltage charging circuit, high current discharge circuit, and coaxial cables. He then explained further.
"When a monopole is extracted it will be accelerated to 30 GeV, at which energy level it will be identified. It can also be retrapped in an iron target, for further experiments."
Holderness turned to Smithson to conclude his explanation. "The apparatus is portable, and I take it out to areas where there are exposed veins of magnetite. The magnetite is then subject to magnetic pulses, sufficient to extract monopoles form a depth of a few centimeters. Nothing has been found yet, but I am confident that it will turn up."
Smithson considered this to be a sound line of research; he knew the basic theory, and thought the experimental endeavor was worthwhile. But before he could voice this, Grundsel emitted a loud and jeering laugh, pointing to the monopole extractor with a gesture of exaggerated incredulity.
"Crawling round the rocks looking for imaginary monopoles," spluttered Grundsel through his mirth. "And he says that my research is futile." Holderness clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward.
"Gentlemen, please," said Smithson, stepping between them. Through the window of Holderness’ laboratory he could see into the quadrangle, where the sun was bright on the cobblestones. Over the other side, he could see Professor James talking animatedly to some of the other researchers. Smithson cursed to himself, thinking that the principal had probably forgotten the matter completely by now, having pushed the dirty work off onto someone else.
"Now let’s go see your apparatus, Dr. Grundsel," said Smithson, in an effort to avert the violence which seemed imminent. At that suggestion, Holderness brightened and began to laugh.
"Yes," he agreed eagerly, "you must have a look at his conglomeration of stuff. You’;; have the biggest laugh you have had for years" It was Grundsel'’ turn now to glower; he turned quickly and left the room, while the others followed.
Out into the quadrangle and across the cobbles they went, shielding their eyes from the sudden exposure to bright sunlight. They continued until they reached the wing where Grundsel had his psionics research laboratory. Going up the steps, they entered, and Grundsel began to explain what he was aiming for in his research.
"The phenomena I am concerned with are outside the conventional frame work of science, and are not concerned with reality as it is understood in the physical sciences. No, the operative concept of my work is that of topological connectivity." Grundsel paused, repeating the term, rolling it around his mouth with satisfaction. He then went on.
"The basic idea here is that certain phenomena, up until now inexplicable, can be explained in terms of the properties of total topological properties of total topological formations. More simply, if one arranges materials into the requisite patterns, one find that the pattern has properties which derive from the pattern itself, rather than from the materials. The ancient magicians seemed to be groping towards such a concept, in their reliance upon symbols such as the pentagram, or in their belief that a person could be influenced through the medium of a symbolic representation of the person, such as a doll or wax model."
Grundsel pointed to his apparatus, and Smithson leaned over to examine it. Holderness ostentatiously turned his back and nonchalantly directed his gaze out through the window into the quadrangle. Smithson ignored this, and studied the apparatus with some interest. It looked, he thought, rather like a cross between an advanced modern sculpture, and a greatly enlarged model of a complex molecule. Strings and wires were suspended from intricate supports, and moving parts slowly rotated in counterpoint to one another. Smithson had some difficulty in visualizing the overall shape and structure of the apparatus, and he began to think that its properties in terms of connectivity must be very intricate and complex.
"It has no power source," continued Grundsel, "because the concept of power does not apply to it. Its properties derive from the total relationship deriving from the totality of its components."
"What is its purpose," asked Smithson, beginning to grow interested. As with the monopole extractor,. He began to feel that there was here a worthwhile line of investigation, outside the orthodox, but with a theory that made definite sense.
"My aim," replied Grundsel, "is to detect the human brain, at a distance from the individual concerned, and without any physical contact. This apparatus is continually moving, which means that its topological properties are continually changing. Such change is analogous to changing the wavelength on a radio pickup. I estimate that, when my apparatus produces the right topological configuration, it will become a receiver for a similar topological effect deriving from a human brain. Such a brain effect will, of course, be the result of the topological qualities of the totality of neurons."
Before Smithson could reply, Holderness turned form the window with a sneering smile. "A kid could make something better from a construction kit," he said, "and it would be just about as much use."
It was now Grundsel’s turn to clench his fists and take a menacing step forward.
Smithson again stepped between them, wanting only to avert the looming violence; he shepherded them out of Grundsel’s laboratory. They went down the stairs and then out into the sunlit quadrangle. Smithson'’ interest had been aroused by both of these research projects, and he would have liked to discuss them individually with their authors, in the absence of the distracting presence of the other’s hostility.
He idly wondered, as they strode across the quadrangle, why the two were so hostile. It must be a combination of factors, he mused. Their researches were totally different in basic conception, and their personalities were inclined to clash. But he did not pursue this line of thought at that time; al he wanted now was to disentangle himself from the situation while still remaining on good terms with both of the men, so that he would be able to discuss their researches with them individually at some future time. This, he feared, would not be easy to achieve.
"Well, what is your opinion of my research?" asked Holderness and Grundsel simultaneously. Smithson thought hard in an attempt to give a diplomatic reply which would satisfy them both and offend neither.
"I would say that you both come into the category of pioneers, extending science into areas as yet not covered in detail by the mainstream," he said, trying to be as vague as possible. "Furthermore, you are both looking for the rare event, something which is calculated to happen with very low frequency, but which is, nevertheless, of great significance if it does occur. I myself am very interested in this. I feel that science concentrates too much upon studying phenomena which are reproducible at will, and that because of this, rare events of great significance tend to be missed."
Smithson really was interested in this matter, and he had the hope of diverting the conversation into a general discussion of the topic. His hope, however, was vain, and he realized that he had, despite himself, said the wrong thing. Both men bridled, and he realized with a sinking heart that he had turned their wrath upon himself. Both spoke at the same time, saying the same thing.
"Do you mean to say that you think that my work comes into the same category as his?" Realizing what they had said, they glared again at each other, and then back at Smithson. The damage was done. He tried to placate them, but they strode away across the quadrangle, each heading for his own laboratory, leaving Smithson staring after them.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see the principal. "Were you able to smooth out their difficulties?" asked the professor a trifle nervously, as he watched Holderness and Grundsel vanish into the buildings. The principal clearly expected nosy conflict between them to break out again at any moment.
"Not really," replied Smithson. "They hate each other and they researches have no common ground at all."
"Dear, dear," said Professor James. "I do so wish that they would finish their work. Then they might start on something else which they would not quarrel over." His face brightened. "Or they might leave the Institute."
The principal turned to leave the quadrangle, and Smithson went with him, feeling suddenly that he would like another stroll in the wood.
"What do you think of their researches?" asked Professor James. "Do you think that either or both of them will find what he is looking for?"
Smithson pondered. "I cannot really say, from the little information I picked up form them. But both of them have theories which make sense, and their apparatus is carefully constructed."
Outside the gateway, the principal went his way, and Smithson strolled back towards the wood, feeling the sun warm upon him as he went. Reaching the wood, he walked beside the little stream, pursing the general train of thought suggested to him by what he had seen. Research into rare events he was definitely in favor of; it was a firm conviction of his that much was lost because of an excess emphasis. Upon studying the reproducible. This gave the impression of an ordered, systematic universe; but if many significant rare events had been missed, this impression of order might, to some extend, be an artifact of scientific method.
But there were difficulties in interpreting rare event research. What, he wondered to himself, would it mean if Grundsel’s and Holderness’ apparatus produced the result they were looking for? If the monopole extractor produced readings which indicated that it had indeed extracted and retrapped a magnetic monopole. And if the topological apparatus produced a reading which indicated that it had reacted to the topological properties of a human brain. In either case, would this imply conformation of the theory which had governed the construction of the apparatus?
Smithson lowered himself to the ground beneath a large tree, leaning back against the smooth bark of the big trunk. Looking upwards, he saw the sun filtering through the foliage above, forming intricate patterns of light and shade. Still he pondered, listening idly to the tinkling of the stream.
The problem in studying rare events, he told himself, was the gap between the apparatus and the theory. With reproducible effects, the apparatus could be refined and checked, until one was fairly certain that it was reacting to the phenomena being studied. But with rare events, it could be difficult to decide wheter or not a single instrument reading had the intended significance. Specifically, if Grundsel’s machine produced certain readings, was it really reacting to a human brain, or was it being affected by something totally extraneous? And similarly, if Holderness’ machine produced certain readings, was it reacting to a rare magnetic monopole, or to something else entirely?
Finally, he shelved the idea and tu4rned towards his rooms, strolling up the drive and back into the quadrangle. Given the current state of enmity between Holderness and Grundsel, there did not seem to be much immediate possibility of exploring the implications of the research with either of them. And so he went back to work, continuing until, looking up, he saw the red rays of the sunset illuminating the ancient stone buildings. Reference to his watch told him that it was time for the evening meal, and he hurried out towards the dining room to take his place for dinner, preferably as far as possible from Holderness and Grundsel.
In this he was successful;, and he found himself sitting between two men he had not met before. A plump, bald man was sitting on his left, while a burly man with light hair sat on his right,. Bother of these individuals seemed glad to see a new face at the Institute, and by the time the first course had arrived, they had introduced themselves. Smithson made a mental note of their identities; the plump, bald man was named Broke, and the light-haired man bore the name of Tudor.
Quiet conversation could be heard throughout the big room, as the members of the Institute discussed their work with each other during dinner,. Looking up, Smithson saw the high ceiling with its black beams, while on all sides around him the paneled walls glowed with the dark luster of old wood. Antique silver cutlery shone softly from the table top, and a quietly dressed serving staff moved unobtrusively around the room.
"What is the nature of your research?" asked Smithson as his two neighbors worked their way thought the soup.
"I am seeking to detect gravity waves," replied Broke.
"And I am trying to isolate the quark," said Tudor.
Smithson was aware in a broad way of the nature of both of these fields of research, but for a moment the significant common element in them escaped him. Then he choked slightly upon a spoonful of soup as it struck him. Rare events again. Both of these men were carrying out research into Rare events, seeking for effects not only as yet undetected, but also for which the estimated probability was low. His interest was now roused, and he decided to seek more details.
"Indeed," he said as an opening gambit, "I am very interested in research of this type. Only this afternoon I was discussing their work with two of your colleagues, Holderness and Grundsel, who are working upon a similar type of problem." Then he realized that this had been the wrong thing to say, as both of his companions choked over their soup.
"Please," said Broke. "Don’t mention those two." He winced at the thought. "We see and hear far too much of them as it is."
"Yes," agreed Tudor. "Their researches are good, but when they get together… They were at it again this afternoon, just as I was trying to work out a particularly complicated bit of math,."
Both men looked down the table, and Smithson followed their gaze to where Holderness and Grundsel were sitting on opposite sides of the lower end of the table. The people ion either side of them were leaning away to talk to each other, leaving Holderness and Grundsel isolated, reduced to having an irritable conversation with each other across the table.
Smithson hastily changed the subject, asking broke to elaborate upon the nature of his work. The soup was now finished and the second course had been served. Broke, in between mouthfuls of steak, elaborated with enthusiasm upon his research.
"I use two aluminum cylinders, each about one point five meters long. One cylinder is zero point size meters in diameter, while the other has a diameter of two hundred millimeters. Each cylinder is instrument to record longitudinal oscillations which occur near the angular frequency of then thousand radians per second. These oscillations are detected piezoelctrically, by means of quarts strain transducers in the center of each rod."
Broke paused to eat some more steak, while both Smithson and Tudor waited wit interest to hear the rest. Then he resumed.
"This apparatus is sensitive enough to detect relative displacements of the end faces of the cylinders, much smaller than nuclear radius; this means strains of less than one part in to the sixteenth power. I have the two cylinders at a distance of two kilometers apart, and am looking for coincident oscillations. If I find thee, I will know that they correspond to disturbance which is spread over at least two kilometers."
"I see," commented Smithson. "You hope to detect the arrival of gravitons sent out by collapsing supernovae or rotating star systems."
"Exactly," replied Broke.
"But couldn’t disturbances in your cylinders be caused in a variety of ways?" objected Smithson. They could be due to earthquakes, large magnetic field fluctuations, intense sound, or the tilting of the apparatus, as well as gravity waves."
"I agree," replied Broke. "And therefor, I have other apparatus near to the cylinders to check on this. I have low and high frequency seismometers, tiltometers, and a gravimeter. I hope to find coincident excitations in the cylinders which cannot be explained by terrestrial effects, and which, therefore, can be attributed to gravitational radiation."
Smithson considered this as they finished their steak, and as their plates were collected b the unobtrusive serving staff. Then he turned to Tudor and asked him to describe his work.
"Three quarks for Muster Mark," laughed Tudor. "you know, of course, teat the existence of the quark was first suggested as a result of the unitary symmetry theory, which arose as a means of classifying the variety of elementary particles which had been discovered. Unitary symmetry provides a framework for the two hundred or so known particles, so that these can be arranged, according to their properties, into groups of eight or ten particles. The members of each group are seen as variants upon the same particle."
He paused while the sweet was brought to the table, and they began to eat it. All around them, the member of the Institute were talking quietly among themselves. Down the table, Smithson caught sight of Holderness and Grundsel, still conversing with each other, rather red in the face with the effort of trying to maintain a veneer of public politeness.
"Yes," said Smithson. "The omega minus particle was predicted by unitary symmetry, and discovered by the appropriate experiments."
"Exactly," replied Tudor. "And unitary symmetry, also suggests that there ought to exist another triplet of particles, not yet observed. These predicted particles, the quark, are thought to have certain distinctive qualities. For instance, they are expected to have electrical charges of one third and two thirds of that of the electron; this makes them distinctive, because all other particles discovered have charges which are whole-number multiples of the electron’s charge. Quarks are also expected to have baryon numbers of one third, in contrast to all other known particles, which have integral baryon numbers. Finally, the mass of a quark is predicted to be higher than all other particles."
"Which method are you using to look for the quark?" asked Smithson, finishing his sweet and pushing the plate away.
"I am basing my search upon the fact that since the ionizing of charged particles in matter is proportional to the square of the particle’s charge, quarks must have an ionizing power much less than that of known particles. This makes them easy to spot in bubble chamber photographs."
"I see," remarked Smithson. "You look for weak tracks in the bubble chamber records, which would be evidence of low ionization."
"That is so," replied Tudor. "For instance, a beam of 27GeV protons can be directed onto an internal copper target, and the products of interactions in the target are allowed to enter a bubble chamber."
"How frequently do you expect to find anything notable?" asked Smithson.
Tudor pondered for a moment, and then replied. "Well, in a run of almost fourteen thousand pictures, each containing about ten tracks, as many as twenty tracks were of less than normal density. But all of these, unfortunately, could be explained as being due to the fact that the particles concerned did not arrive at the bubble chamber when it was fully sensitive, which would itself reduce the number of bubbles produced."
Rare events indeed, thought Smithson to himself, as he finished his meal and signaled for coffee. To bring out the point to his own satisfaction he asked Tudor a further question.
"What is the estimated incidence of quarks, as compared with other particles?"
"Less than one part in ten to the ninth power," was the reply. "That is calculated on the basis that none have been found in the experiments so far done. Other experiments have been done to try to detect quarks in the natural state, without success yet. Probability in these works out at about one in then to the thirty-third power nucleons in air, and one in ten to the twenty-seventh power in seawater."
Coffee came, and they lit cigars and leaned back in their chairs. The serving staff cleared the tables, leaving them white and gleaming in the subdued lighting of the big dining room. Drawing upon his cigar, Smithson pondered, rather surprised that he had encountered the rare event problem four times in one day. How, he wondered, could one resolve the dilemma? On the one hand, if one ignored rare events, one could give a spurious quality of regularity to the universe. On the other hand, however, could any of these researchers even be certain that they had discovered what they sought, even if their instruments have a reading of the type required?
Loud voices erupted from down the table, to jerk him out of his reverie. Everyone turned to look and conversation was stilled. Then there was a muffled groan, as everyone saw that it was Holderness and Grundsel again. Holderness leaned over the table, brandishing an admonitory finger in the face of Grundsel, making an obscure point in a loud voice. Grundsel squirmed back in his chair, to avoid being transfixed by the finger, and replied in an indignant shout.
"Really, gentlemen," spluttered the principal form his place at the head of the big table. "It can’t be as serious as all that." They subsided, but the mood was now broken, and people began to drift out of the dining room. Smithson rose also, thinking that the example of Holderness and Grundsel typified another of the problems of science; quarrelling and rigidity on the part of the scientists, excess involvement in transient ideas, and a refusal to see science as a continuing process with movement as its basic characteristic.
Moving with Tudor and Broke toward the door, Smithson listened to their expressions of disgust at the behavior and continued presence of Holderness and Grundsel at the Institute. Then, as they went through the door. Tudor came up close to Smithson.
"Don’t take old Broke too seriously, either," he muttered confidentially. "He’ll never find gravitons in a hundred years, because they don’t exist. He’s just a metaphysician, like Grundsel and his topological theory." Tudor winked to Smithson and then turned away to return t his rooms.
Strolling down the corridor, Smithson felt Broke come up to him, to whisper briefly into his ear.
"Tudor is a nice chap," said Broke, "but I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for him." He laughed softly. "One part in then to the ninth power, and probability dropping all the time. He’s wasting his time on quarks, just like Holderness and the monopole." With a smile, Broke moved away, leaving Smithson to stroll on down the corridor.
Reaching the end of the corridor, Smithson went out through the swinging doors into the grounds. It was a warm, moonlit night, with sufficient light for him to see clearly. He crossed the quadrangle, went through the main gateway, and walked slowly down the drive towards the wood. As he went, he thought of the way in which Broke and Tudor had confided in him about their views of each other. How, he wondered again, could he work upon the formalization of the process of scientific discovery, hen he was continually confronted with the intrusion of the personality of the scientist into this process?
But he did not, at that point, have any chance to pursue this line of thought. Feet crunched on the gravel begin him, and he turned to see two men approaching. One of the spoke as they came near.
"Dr. Smithson, can we have a chat with you? We have both read your work, and have a great admiration for it. Could you give your views upon our research?"
Rather flattered by this approach, Smithson allowed them to introduce themselves, which they did, by the names of Bentham and Hubbard. They then walked on down the drive, exchanging pleasantries, until they reached a seat. They then sat down, and Smithson asked them what their fields of research were.
"I am trying to detect tachyons," said Hubbard.
"And I am making a study of dowsing," said Bentham.
At that moment, Smithson was glad of the surrounding darkness, because he winced involuntarily at what they said. Rare events, for the third time in one day! Was the whole Institute devoted to the study of rare events, he wondered. Groaning to himself, he sat back to hear the men give an account of their research.
For a few moments there was silence, as they lit up cigarettes and made themselves comfortable. In the distance, he stream in the wood could be heard gurgling faintly over the stones in its bed. The moon was bright overhead and the air was filled with the warm scents of summer. Night birds stirred and called in the wood, and a bat circled madly above them.
"You know, of course," began Hubbard, "that tachyons are postulated particles which move at a velocity greater than that of light. It has been suggested that such particles may exist, and that they may lose energy as they increase speed, rather than increase energy with speed as with sub-light particles. Various theoretical accommodations have been made to ensure that the characteristics of these particles do not produce paradoxes in terms of the special theory of relativity."
He paused, drawing deeply on his cigarette. Moonlight gleamed whitely on the dispersing smoke cloud, and Hubbard continued:
"It has to be assumed, of course, that tachyons interact with other particles, or they would be undetectable. I also make the assumption that tachyons would carry an electric charge, which means that they can be created in pairs with equal and opposite charge, by a photon beam."
Hubbard paused again to think, then continue. "What I am doing, therefore, is this: I surround a photon source, in this case cesium 134, with a lead shield. Photons with energies of 605 or 797 keV are assumed to create pairs of tachyons in the shielding. These tachyons will then be detected by means of the Cerenkov radiation which they emit when passing through the shielding. You know, of course, that Cerenkov radiation is the radiation emitted by a particle traveling faster than the speed o light in the medium concerned. Also, because it is difficult to remove the photon background near the target, the tachyons’ energy away from the target is increased by applying an electrostatic field of three kilovolts per centimeters in a vacuum of ten to minus six torr outside the led shielding surrounding the source.
"How far can you assess the probability of detecting tachyons with your apparatus?" asked Smithson.
"The production cross section, that is, the area needed to be hit for a reaction to occur, for a pair of charged tachyons in lead is four orders of magnitude less than that for electron-position production."
Low, thought, Smithson, as with other rare event studies. Not wanting to commit himself on the matter immediately, he turned to Bentham and asked him to describe his work.
"I’ve been studying dowsers," said Bentham. "it seems that there is a magnetic effect here. Thus, I have found a few dowsers who are able to detect a magnetic field of a few milloersted at a distance of about a meter. The dowsers begin by walking past a wire coil, once with the current on and once with it off, and they are told which is which. They then make further passes, without knowing whether the current is one or off, and are able to say correctly whether or not it is on."
Bentham paused to take out his cigarettes and offered them round. Lighters flared as they lit up, and then he resumed his account.
"I find that these dowser can detect magnetic gradients of zero point three to zero point five milloersted, but that below this level detection becomes inaccurate. One particular concern of mine is how the body detects such fields. It may be, for instance, that the protons in the body have different precession rates and relaxation times, and that when these are brought together by the movement of the bloodstream, detectable interactions occur."
The moon was now vanishing beneath a layer of cloud, and a cool wind was rising. Feeling this, they rose to return to the Institute buildings.
"The only trouble with this research," concluded Bentham, "is that it is difficult to find people who can perform, and when one has found them, they tend to be erratic. Their ability can come and go without any obvious reason."
As they strolled back along the drive, Smithson expressed his interest in both men’s research, saying that he would think about it and give them what comment he could. Once inside the quadrangle, they separated and headed for their rooms. Smithson returned quickly to his room, and turned in, but he found it difficult to sleep. In one day he had been subjected to a strong dose of rare-event research, and the problems of this area ran strongly in his mind.
To begin with, he thought, this was an area where fashions and whims had considerable influence. What was the difference, he asked himself, between working with a subject who could get a high score on the Rhine cards once a year, and looking at bubble chamber photographs for quark tracks which were expected to occur once, if at all, in tens of thousands of track records? The only difference, it seemed to him, was that there was a fashionably physical rationale for the quark, and none for the supposed extra sensory perception. Yet, he told himself, it would be possible for a physicist seeking the elusive monopole or tachyon to reject the Rhine cards with scorn.
But nevertheless, it did seem to Smithson that one must study rare events wheter actual or only postulated. To omit them from science, on the grounds that they did not fulfill the criteria of repeatability, could produce a totally misleading impression of regularity in the universe. Again he thought of the contradictions which existed. Physicists were quite likely to rejected the idea of studying certain psychic phenomena, on the rounds that it was not possible to set up repeatable experiments. On the other hand, it was accepted as very reasonable to look for quarks or gravitons, without direct evidence that they existed at all, and with no reason to believe that they could be subject to repeatable experiments if one instance were to be discovered.
Smithson turned restlessly in bed as these ideas ran in his mind. If one accepted that one should study rare events on the other hand, then one was faced with complex methodological problems. Since the even concerned was too infrequent, if indeed it occurred at all, how did one know that one’s apparatus had detected it, even if the correct readings were obtained?
If, for example, Hubbard detected one event of Cerenkov radiation, had he detected a rare tachyon, or was there some other explanation? If Tudor found a low energy track on one out of his multitude of bubble chamber photographs, was this an example of the elusive quark, or was it something else? If Bentham found one subject who could dowse at a better-than-chance level for a period of time, but whose ability then disappeared, how could he defend himself from later suggestions that his experiments were faulty, or that he had been cheating? If Broke’s cylinders produced a piezoelectric pulse, with what level of certainty could he say that this was a gravity wave? If Grundsel purported to have found an example of his topological effect, or if Holderness obtained readings indicating that a monopole had been trapped, how certain could they be that this was the correct explanation?
Smithson could not answer these questions, except by telling himself that a comprehensive study of the whole field of rare events should be made. And so he drifted into slumber, and soon he was experiencing a horrendous nightmare, which he realized dimly was the epitome of the difficulties which could arise from the study of rare events. He dreamed…
...That a magnetic monopole shaken by a fluctuation in the Earth’s magnetic field, disengaged itself from a buried vein of magnetite beneath the Institute. Acquiring relativistic velocity in the space of a fraction of a millimeter, it passed through the Institute and through Holderness’ apparatus without registering. However, by reason of a slight spatial distortion in its wake, it activated Grundsel’s topological detector.
…That, as one of the research of the Institute grappled with a particularly complex problem, the neurons in his brain momentarily acquired a degree of connectivity far higher than that usually possessed by the human brain. The resulting topological disturbance did not register on Grundsel’s apparatus, but it did have an effect upon Holderness’ monopole detector, producing readings which suggested that a monopole had been trapped.
…That a gravity wave, created aeons ago by a rotating star system in Orion, finally reached Earth. Reaching Broke’s apparatus, it failed to produce sufficient oscillations in his cylinders to activate the quartz strain transducers at the center of each. Instead, operating upon the brain of one of Bentham’s subjects, it made him feel as if he had detected a magnetic field of unprecedentedly low strength.
…That a magnetic field, used by Bentham in his experiments, interacted with protons in the bloodstream of a subject. Stirred by an unusual pattern of turbulence in the bloodstream, the field moved outward with unusual form and intensity. Reaching Broke’s apparatus, it produced a piezoelectric pulse which suggested that a gravity wave had been detected.
…That a tachyon, traversing space at many multiples of the speed of light, reached Earth. Failing to produce Cerenkov radiation in the lead shielding of Hubbard’s apparatus, it created a low-energy track in Tudor’s bubble chamber, suggesting the arrival of a quark.
…That a quark, the product of the interaction of a beam of 27GeV protons with a copper target, failed to register in the bubble chamber because it arrived at the moment of lowest sensitivity. Passing through the walls and across the quadrangle, the quark gave rise to a but of Cerenkov radiation in the lead shield surrounding Hubbard’s tachyon experiment.
..And that the result of this rare pattern of rare events was general joy at the Institute as six researchers rejoiced in the fact that their theories were confirmed. Even Holderness and Grundsel congratulated each other on their good fortune.
Smithson stirred in his sleep under the pressure of this nightmare, until there came to him the image of Holderness and Grundsel engaged in mutual congratulations. Savoring this, he smiled sleepily to himself, telling himself that this would be the rarest event of all-well worth all the others. Then he finally receded into real, restful sleep.