SOS (r, f) = SOS (r) + SOS (f)
✦ ✦ ✦
Do the SOS (r) versions of us know what’s going on?
“Possibly Nagato…but, myself included, the rest of us are likely just going about their daily lives.”
The SOS Brigade dissociated, existing both in the real and a virtual world. Sure sent a chill down my spine.
“Let’s ignore the hard bits and assume, for simplicity’s sake, that the following is true.”
✦ ✦ ✦
SOS (r) + SOS (f) = 1.
✦ ✦ ✦
A formula even a little kid could manage.
“However, I have no clue what process we must follow to achieve this result.”
So those of us in the real world are just completely unaffected by the collision with these mysterious space particles?
“We’re unsure to what extent the r and f variables affect the real world, but I’d like to believe nothing terribly odd is happening there. Your take, Nagato?”
“Our real selves will be preserved in the original state for comparison.”
So just like we always were.
“Meaning (r = 1) or very close to it. A whole string of nines.”
So the real-world version was pure us, 99.999999999 percent. That was fine—or maybe not. The remainder bothered me, and I didn’t like it—gimme back my change.
“The ‘change’ in this equation would be our current selves,” Koizumi said, rolling the silver skewer across the tablet. “If we were simple personality clones, one could argue we had no choice but to go on living like this. But if our real-world selves are at the mercy of some unidentified science, I’m disinclined to leave well enough alone.”
Here, he chuckled.
“Role-playing with the SOS Brigade is hardly a bad thing. I’d been pretty sure we were just copies, after all.”
But our real selves and virtual selves are branches.
“Yes, and the two versions of ourselves are super positioned. Both real.”
Which wasn’t all good.
“This dissociation between real and virtual worlds is hardly a natural state. What will it lead to? I have no idea. Perhaps our real selves are beginning to notice something is amiss. What would happen if this situation begins to affect Suzumiya? Either one of them?”
We can’t just passively kick back and enjoy this theater. We’ve gotta do something proactive. If we ever want to get back…
No, hang on.
“One question.”
I looked Koizumi right in the eyes.
“Assume we do manage to escape this place. What will happen to us? We’re not gonna end up with two SOS Brigades, are we?”
“I don’t even want to consider that.”
“Then will we fuse with our real selves and be one again?”
“That would be the ideal.”
“You sound dubious. What else? Where might we go? Level with me.”
Nagato’s voice cut in.
“If SOS (r) + SOS (f) = 1 is achieved, the entanglement and superposition will be resolved.”
Her voice was as flat as her words were calm.
“In accordance with the probability theory convergence of wave functions, our current consciousnesses will dissipate with our existences. Leaving our real-world selves as the sole existing versions.”
So basically a death sentence.
“Resolving the duality of existence probabilities inherently involves the elimination of the other. Just as observation renders light either a wave or a particle,” Koizumi elaborated, sounding a mite choked up. “But, Nagato, by resolving this situation, are we certain we won’t end up with two of each of us in the real world?”
“Fermion.”
“……Well, by applying the exclusion principle, our (r) selves and (f) selves cannot simultaneously exist, and the quantum state will be resolved one way or the other. Since the elementary particles within our bodies are basically all fermions…is that the logic?”
Nagato opened her mouth and closed it again. Perhaps she realized that words were insufficient. Koizumi shrugged, giving up.
“Whatever the process, there’s no use considering which set of us should be eliminated. We can’t well return to the real world with our memories of time spent here intact, can we?”
I closed my eyes, considering that.
Our existence here was unnatural. Obeying some other being’s will, forcibly transferred from world to world. Perhaps this would continue forever. But if asked if I’d rather be eliminated—well, I sure wasn’t at the point where I could say yes right away.
Koizumi’s voice rang in my ears.
“If we look at the discrepancies, us having two conflicting sets of memories is one thing. The real issues would be some accident leading to two versions of us manifesting. No telling what would happen then.”
That would be like suddenly getting a twin. That was one thing for most of us, but the idea of two Haruhis made me want to run for the hills.
If it was just memories, then Koizumi, Nagato, and I would be fine. Asahina would probably work out somehow. But what about Haruhi? What would happen if she went back to reality remembering all these crazy adventures?
“What a nightmare.”
“There may be a fraction of a percent chance that we will be the true ones, and those of us in the real world are eliminated, but since they’re 99.999999999 percent pure, the odds of us being chosen are almost zero.”
“Likely even less,” Nagato said.
How do you represent the difference between almost zero and zero?
“But we know a woman who ignores the odds and effortlessly makes the impossible happen.”
Koizumi sounded downright sad about this.
“Hopefully, I’m fretting over nothing.”
If Haruhi got back to the real world with memories of this one, what ideas would that give her? If it was just ideas, that’d be one thing, but if it started affecting and influencing the real world…Well, I didn’t want to imagine the outcome. I’d rather go to the south pole and try to sell the penguins syrup-free shaved ice than bet on Haruhi alone getting amnesia. No way that would end well.
Seeing me lost in idle thought, Nagato said, “We’re merely going back to the original (1).”
I think that was supposed to sound like good news.
“That is not necessarily equivalent to death.”
Time to steel my nerves.
“Okay, fine. Let’s forget about our current selves.”
Perhaps some well-timed miracle would conveniently net us a flawless ending, but before we even got to that—
“Bringing these memories to the real world won’t do us a lick of good.”
That bugged me.
“Or is that what our enemy—whoever’s doing this—is actually after?”
“It is a possibility. One day, we suddenly gain memories of impossible adventures. A shock to us all—but to Suzumiya, these memories could well alter the world in unknowable ways.”
One could only hope she’d assume she’d been daydreaming a very long time.
I glanced her way, and Haruhi was sprawled back in her chair, nibbling on nuts from a bowl a serving lady proffered. Totally in watching a movie at home mode. Asahina had her fists balled up, eyes locked on the play.
Onstage, nothing-burger-face Menelaus was off to Crete for his granddad’s funeral, and Helen—just habitually abducted at this point—took her kidnapper’s hand and slipped out of the castle. Tense music blared as the Trojan contingent raced for their ships in the Spartan harbor.
Once aboard, the whole fleet took off, racing across the ocean back to Troy. Back at the palace, they discovered Helen’s elopement and ran around like they were being chased by bees. Helen had left a young daughter—Hermione—and the plaintive cries of this abandoned child brought tears to Asahina’s eyes.