Cover by Maciej Rebisz . “A fun and wildly imaginative sci-fi book,” Dave T. NetGalley reviewer; If you can’t wait to find out everything (or maybe want a copy for re-reading), get the complete novel here (note: buying it direcly from me is noy just cheaper, but gets you also the goods on how and why I wrote it and all its influences);
[NOTE: this is a note from LateralSys, hence the long block quote.]
It shouldn’t be possible, light escaping from a black hole. Yet the point mass we’re orbiting is way too small to be a mini neutron star or strangelet ball, as it’s approximately 90 picometers at its largest diameter. Yes, there are ways to measure that with red and blue shifts from carefully targeted lasers. And at that size, and that mass it’s most definitely a gravitational singularity.
Theoretically, there is one solution for this: a so-called naked singularity. In technical terms, the solution is a Super Extreme Kerr Object—SEKO—which is a black hole rotating so fast that its centripetal force overcomes its gravitational force, allowing photons (and other particles) to escape from it. That’s because the event horizon has been lifted.
In our Universe, nobody has been able to create a SEKO because the moment you want to accelerate the rotation of your rapidly rotating Kerr black hole to the exact point where rotation overcomes gravity, the particle(s) used to provide that extra rotation somehow get gobbled up by the black hole, increasing its mass just enough so that it remains non-naked. Or, if they come in at the wrong glancing angle, they don’t provide enough momentum to push the Kerr object over the edge. Hence the beings who produced this must have a trick up their sleeve that we—and several aliens masterminds—haven’t thought of. Or they have a different advantage, which we’re not aware of.
Because of the extremely high rotational speed, the mass has become a ring (a flattened torus) and through this ring, messages can be sent. It’s now a portal to a different place, most probably to a different Universe.
Depiction of a naked singularity
While light can now escape from this naked singularity, we must also realize that a black hole—except for some faint Hawking radiation and thermal blackbody radiation—is not a source of light. That pulsating light beam—that disperses into the light show that so mesmerizes you through an effect called reverse critical opalescence—must come from somewhere, possibly even from another Universe altogether.
FYI: when matter falls into a rotating black hole, some of it gets sucked in beyond the event horizon, but some of it will rotate around the black hole, forming an accretion disk. The infalling matter, on its way to the event horizon, heats up and sends out radiation (until it disappears beyond the event horizon). If the black hole is big enough, and if sufficient matter falls into it—it’s absorbing a sun or planet—then the radiation can be seen over astronomical distances, and that radiation has a certain characteristic called critical opalescence. This is akin to the critical opalescence that some liquids or gasses experience when they go through a phase shift: at first, the liquid (or gas) is clear, then—at the very threshold of the phase shift—cloudy bubbles begin to form until their milky cloudiness completely overrules the liquid’s opacity. Critical opalescence turns the phase-shifting liquid (or gas) fully opaque, until the phase shift is completed, after which the gas (or liquid) becomes transparent again.
The critical opalescence of a black hole is actually the accretion disk filtering out the higher frequencies of the radiation of the infalling matter. In other words, the disk luminosity will only have the low-frequency component, as the critical opalescence opaques the higher frequencies. However, with a naked singularity, the radiation—from the infalling matter—will feature the high energy (and high frequency) tail.
On top of that, the thermal blackbody radiation of a black hole with a mass larger than that of the Moon will be colder than the cosmic background temperature, meaning that its Hawking radiation—the radiation it’s emitting—is less than the radiation it’s absorbing from the cosmic background radiation. In other words, such black holes will only gain mass—even if tremendously slowly—and will only start to shed mass if the cosmic background radiation—through the expansion of the Universe—becomes lower than the black hole’s blackbody temperature as defined by its Hawking radiation.
However, if the mass of a black hole is lower than that of the Moon, its blackbody temperature as decided by its Hawking radiation is higher than the cosmic background radiation, and it will effectively shed mass—again, at a tremendously slow pace. If my assumptions are correct, then the mass of the naked singularity is about a fifth of that of asteroid Vesta, and a black hole with half the mass of Vega will have a blackbody temperature of 1220 Kelvin. So I’m estimating our naked singularity’s temperature at about 2600 Kelvin, or pretty bloody hot.
Since the event horizon is lifted, the black hole’s own blackbody radiation does not experience critical opalescence, meaning its higher frequencies are not filtered out. But this is only a tiny amount of radiation—mostly in the infrared—measured in femtoJoules. Hence, the blackbody radiation is not sufficient to power the light effects you see. Therefore, the light is not powered by the naked singularity itself but is sent through it—by someone in the other Universe—and not filtered by critical opalescence.
Presto: the pretty light show you have been—and are—witnessing.
On top of that, this SEKO is highly charged, as you—and everybody else in here—have noticed through the fast-rotating electromagnetic field. This probably also influences the light show in this place, but also provides an easy way for intrepid explorers to recharge their batteries as if somebody really wishes that at least some of us make it to the Core.
Do keep in mind that this particular SEKO has a portal or eye of only about 70 picometers across. This means it’s too small for the smallest atom—Hydrogen—to pass through. An atomic nucleus can pass through—like the H+ ion—and all types of (electromagnetic) radiation. However, there might be areas of negative gravity inside the ring—gravity becomes repulsive through dilatonic effects, which prevents the passage of massive particles—so if you want to send signals through, it’s best to use the lightest particles possible, like, you know, massless photons, to make sure they get through.
And the fact that these light beams are pulsed is interesting, to say the least. Unless you believe the aliens who created this Enigmatic Object only put up all these hurdles as a kind of entrance fee before you can witness the weirdest natural light show in the known Universe. Until proven otherwise, we must assume that there’s a reason these aliens want us here. If these pulsed beams are their taps on our shoulder, we should consider tapping them back.
However, in a SEKO—and some other black hole solutions—there is another event horizon: the Cauchy horizon. Space and time are mixed here in the Core because both the event horizon and the Cauchy horizon are lifted. The lifting of the—for a lack of a better word—‘normal’ event horizon means that space-like geodesics sweep from the SEKO, which, together with the now unleashed dilaton field effects cause the wobbles in the gravitational force you experience. While interesting—do record them for posterity—you can ignore them.
The lifting of the Cauchy horizon is another matter, though. Just outside it, closed space-like geodesics exist—the shortest possible lines between two points on a curved surface—which is normal in a large enough gravity well in our Universe, and these are normally contained within the ‘normal’ event horizon (which usually envelops the Cauchy horizon). Inside the Cauchy horizon, closed time-like geodesics exist—the shortest possible lines between two times—this means if you cross time-like geodesics, you literally travel in time.
If the Cauchy horizon is lifted, as well, then nothing is containing these closed time-like geodesics anymore, meaning they might be everywhere here in the Core. They might be mixed with the usual closed space-like geodesics, and because of frame dragging they might not emanate in concentric circles from the SEKO, but rather be slightly ellipsoid. Which most probably means that we, in our orbit, are crossing closed time-like geodesics at every turn. Thus we are traveling in time. Because we cross the time-like geodesics, we see the future and past echoes of ourselves (and those of the Moiety Alien).
However, the mathematics is extremely complex and not fully clear. So I don’t know if we are traveling forward in time, or backward, neither how fast. So don’t be surprised if we meet our past selves when—I certainly hope when, not if—we get out of here. On the other hand, if we are moving forwards in time, we might try to get our business in here done a.s.a.p., because dog knows at what time in the future we might be heading back.
Not to put any pressure on you…;-)
—LateralSys;
Contrary to what her weird systers KillBitch and LateralSys might believe, Na-Yeli the slow CEO thrives on working out solutions under pressure. She might shit her pants when she’s between mountains moving at stupendous speeds, she might not come up with ideas so out of the box that the box itself starts to question its own existence, but once a problem not involving mad heroics nor non-existing mathematics is laid out before her, she can move onto it like an unstoppable force.
Zoom out first and ignore little details like time travel, dilatonic effects, Cauchy horizons, and critical opalescence. The big picture is that this is a SEKO, a naked singularity.
For the gravitational effects throughout the Enigmatic Object, the hyper-advanced aliens who made this might also have used a Kerr black hole—one that’s only rotating very fast. A SEKO is much harder to produce and maintain, so it must be there for a reason.
If LateralSys is right, then the SEKO is a portal to another place, most probably to another Universe. Suppose that this is the Universe of the hyper-advanced aliens. Normally the two universes are separated from each other, but this SEKO connects them.
It’s hidden behind the craziest and most complex labyrinth in our known Universe, so presumably, the other-Universe aliens don’t want just anybody—crazy Eddy, mad Suzy, their cats, dogs & neighbors—to be knocking on their doors. Only the very best—the most intelligent and brave—get through.
It makes no sense for the hyper-advanced aliens to constantly transmit a message through the SEKO, as they have no idea—unless they somehow monitor the openings between the layers—if or when some alien of this Universe will come through. So basically, it’s up to me to start knocking, she finishes her train of thought.
Accretion disk around a naked singularity (well, it might be interpreted as such…;-)
She didn’t come unprepared, as there have been communication protocols for this for a very long time. They establish the basic Universal constants—at least for this Universe—and, what we assume is, basic mathematics, using a binary system that can be easily transmitted through pulses and pauses. On top of that, if the equipment from the other side is up to it, amazingly fast transmission rates can be achieved.
So Na-Yeli prepares to send the first protocol the next time—she completes a full orbit every 98 seconds—she faces the north-side opening of the ring singularity, let’s call it ‘the eye of the SEKO’. She’s done some measurements, and the intensity of the light exiting the south-side of the SEKO’s ring is in the order of magnitude of the photon density emitted by the Sun at its corona. In comparison, the best laser beam she can send into it will be scattered before it even reaches the SEKO’s opening, let alone that anything coherent from her signal can get through. So she must send her signal in at the non-emitting north-side of the naked singularity.
She’s repositioned her orbit so that she faces the ring singularity’s opening straight-on twice per rotation. Her probes have carefully measured the radiation coming out of its south-side, and they’re your ordinary, run-of-the-mill photons, even if packed extremely tight. If all else fails, she wants to capture those—before they reflect and become part of the enchanting light show—to see their original structure. But first, she wants to try to send a message through.
But at which angle? Only when exactly facing the eye of the SEKO? That would limit the usage of this portal quite heavily. Huge masses do bend light, and astronomers are well aware of the effects of gravitational lensing. But this black hole doesn’t have that much mass—it’s about twice as heavy as 16 Psyche from the Asteroid Belt, or about 1/1700th of the mass of the Moon. It will barely bend the path of her photons, so she should be able to send her message in at quite a wide angle. She decides to send the tried-and-true communication protocols in an almost 180-degree arc facing the singularity’s ring opening at the north-side, utilizing about 50% of her orbiting time. On purpose, she selects a relatively low transmission rate, hoping to establish contact first before increasing the frequency of her pulses.
On top of that, her aim has to be true. The dilaton field effects vary the gravity field, making her orbit quite wobbly. And she’s aiming at a hole of a mere seventy picometers. However, according to LateralSys, the gravitational lensing effects will help her a little bit, allowing her to be a couple of picometers off. Great help that is, indeed.
She has to assume that part of her message won’t get through, so she has to double or triple up the message, insert repetitive pieces with fault corrections. But even that won’t help if she misses her goal altogether, and nanometer wobbles are already way too big, and what she feels must certainly be micrometer wobbles, at least.
Just shoot anyway and hope chunks get through? Not a good way to get a message across, let alone a good way to make a first impression. She could try to measure the exact wobbles she makes during the 180-degree arc she tries to send it through, and compensate accordingly. Measure with better than nanometer precision, and then compensate with better than nanometer precision, while incorporating the lightspeed lag over 14.5 kilometers (48 and 1/3rd nanoseconds). Nanoquick nanomachines. Unfortunately, they operate too close to the quantum level, so that random chance throws a spanner in the works.
A measly 70 picometer opening. Na-Yeli understands that a larger opening would have required a larger black hole whose gravitational effects would have wreaked havoc through all the layers of this Enigmatic Object. But this quest for precision is inhumane ...
Or she can move into a closer orbit, but this will bring her not only into an immensely massive gravitational field—which will mash her to a very fine pulp—and even if she somehow survived it, she would not have the power to escape that deadly attraction. For her own sake, she’s marked the 10-kilometer distance from the SEKO as the safe distance.
Next possibility, move a probe into closer orbit and use it as a relay? But even at one hundred meters from the SEKO, the gravitational field is a distressing three point one million G. Not even her sturdiest—non-Kitti—probes can withstand the tidal forces in that orbit.
Then she wants to slap her head. She was focusing too close, didn’t see the forest for the trees. Just aim a wide beam at it, wide enough that she can’t miss it. Some 99.99999% or so will miss, but one section—exactly 70 picometers across, plus a few extra picometers thanks to gravitational lensing—will simply beam through.
Easy as pie, and fuck the wobbles. Just make the beam wider than the wobbles, and presto.
A laser beam message shooting through the hole of a naked singularity (well, it might be interpreted as such…;-)
Because of this, it takes her several rotations to get the full protocol through—slightly under nine minutes—after which she will wait a similar period, and then try again. But she doesn’t have to wait long, as the pulsed beams exiting from the south-side from the eye of the SEKO right after her next 180-degree arc are changing.
Wow, that didn’t take long, she thinks, but let’s analyze these first, lest they’re not my own signals beamed back at me. LateralSys’s remarks about the closed time-like geodesics and time travel are fresh in her mind. The communication programs quickly assure her that it’s not the original signal they sent—not the exact one, neither a mirrored nor otherwise scrambled version of it—but a truly new signal.
That was the good news. The bad news is that they can’t make sense of it quite yet.
—some things seem to make sense— the communication AI signals —while others are opaque. it’s almost as if some of their physics are quite similar to ours, while some of it is quintessentially different. we’re looking for the best common ground. unfortunately, this might take time—
Time is not something Na-Yeli wants to waste—especially since she doesn’t know if they’re inadvertently traveling forward or backward in time—so she decides to test if she can increase bandwidth. “I’m going to resend the protocol, but then with a higher transmission rate,” she says, “if we get something back, just quickly tell me if it’s exactly the same message—”
—but then at a higher rate— the communication AI anticipates —roger—
Na-Yeli doubles the transmission rate and waits. In the next arc, she receives an answer that just feels twice as fast. —same message, double speed, roger— the communication AI confirms.
She doubles the transmission rate again, gets pinged back, and keeps increasing the messaging ping pong until they reach the maximum transmission rate of her equipment. Cool, Na-Yeli thinks, I can send them the whole Encyclopedia Galactica in about forty seconds. Now if only we could understand what we were sending. Which is the communication AI’s job.
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Author’s note: the penultimate part of Forever Curious. Conclusion following next week Wednesday. Oh well, experienced readers know that this will be a cliffhanger, as Na-Yeli & Co will have to get out of the Enigmatic Object. That particular—and harrowing—trek will be narrated in the second part of this duology titled Forever Thrilled, starting January next year. Many thanks for reading and stay tuned!
