This might be hard to believe, but I figured that if this was really happening, there it was, and just like the thing with the serial killer, it didn’t take me long to accept it.
From that time forward, almost every night, I’d call myself, or sometimes get called by myself, but not once did I end up talking to the same me I talked to the first night. Actually, not once did I end up talking to the same me at all—I know this is a strange expression. The one on the other end was always a me I’d never met, and at the same time a me I shared knowledge and experience with. There were differences in the details—for instance, the “me” I talked to this night had talked to a lot more “mes” than I had—but the moment the call connected, the other’s information soaked right into my head. Just as I’d known who it was without words the first time, the other one’s thoughts, and what she was about to say, it all bubbled up in my head as if it was me. Sometimes it was hard for me to even tell who was talking.
Regardless, we talked aloud. We tacitly understood that we already understood each other before we spoke, but it just seemed like things would be confusing otherwise. At first, we got stuck, but after accepting it, we were able to talk as if it were perfectly natural. And after I accepted it, the one on the other end was always a “me” who’d already accepted it. It seemed that basically the “current” me was the reference point.
So, we accepted things as they were and talked about all kinds of stuff—especially this situation. Who in the world was this “me” I was talking to? How did this happen?
“You think it could be what Tenjou talked about? Like, ‘me’ in a parallel world?” I asked.
“It could also be another possible ‘me.’ It could be either the Copenhagen interpretation or the Many-worlds interpretation. Or there’s even this thing called the Pilot-wave theory!”
I’d never heard of the Pilot-wave interpretation before, but by the time “I” said it, I already understood it—as far as “I” did, at least.
“I” continued to speak, apparently a more diligent student than I had ever been. “Well, it’s not as if we could figure out which is correct when even all these smart scientists still haven’t settled on a conclusion. What we should be thinking about now is why the heck is this happening to me?”
“Good question. The ‘me’ who I talked to yesterday had a hypothesis about that. She said maybe it’s because of my left hand. So…take this with a grain of salt since it was ‘me’ saying this and not a scientist, okay? If we look at this from the point of view of the Copenhagen interpretation for ease of understanding, first of all, the properties of a quantum are such that it’s not determined until it’s observed.”
“Right.”
“And Yukari repaired Tenjou’s body with steel bars. But Tenjou can only observe that as her own body, so the repaired part of Tenjou’s body is, in a sense, just a normal body. Are you following me?”
“Go on.”
“But then in my case, well, you remember what Yukari was saying? That I’m multipurpose, adaptable, able to support all kinds of peripherals, and whatnot? So unlike Tenjou, I was able to accept this left hand as just being like that and adapted. Being like both a left hand and a cell phone.”
“Hmm.”
“So what I’m speculating is, in quantum terms, right now, my left hand is a superposition of a left hand and a cell phone. Because I’ve adapted to that, I’m able to use it as either one. Something like that…”
Maybe my left hand was a superposition of the countless possibilities of the Copenhagen interpretation, or else in a state of interference between the countless parallel worlds of the Many-worlds interpretation and had still not been determined. Or perhaps it had been determined as just that. Regardless of which interpretation was correct, it didn’t change the results. Behind my left hand was my body, my head, and myself. Thus, through this left hand, I was connected to the countless versions of myself across the countless possibilities or parallel worlds…
“That could be why, through this left hand, I’m able to talk to the ‘mes’ I wouldn’t normally be able to meet because of wave function collapse or loss of interference.”
“Huh… So in other words, here I am using my left hand as a cell phone, so that means I recognize it not only as a left hand but also as a cell phone. I accept the mes of other worlds or other possibilities, and that’s why we’re able to talk like this—so that’s how it is?”
I groaned. “It sort of makes sense to me and sort of doesn’t. Ugh…I’m feeling dizzy. I really wonder how this is happening. If it’s the case that I’m talking to a possible me through my left hand, then does that mean as soon as I hang up and the cell phone stops being a cell phone, it’s determined as only a left hand and you disappear? Until it becomes a cell phone again…”
“Hey, wait a minute. Why would I disappear? Aren’t you the one who would disappear?”
“Hey, hey, hey! I’m the one who—huh?” I realized I couldn’t remember who’d made the call. Not that it would change anything… “I guess we’ll go with parallel worlds, then, huh? Not that that makes a lot more sense to me…”
“Yeah…”
I said good night and hung up. And then I started to disappear—just kidding, but I did break open a bag of snacks to replenish my energy. I thought about the one I’d just been talking to. Had she disappeared? Or was she snacking just like me in a parallel world or something? But I think that even in the many-worlds interpretation, worlds are both created and destroyed—well, in any case it wouldn’t change the result, and I doubt I’ll ever talk to her again.
Am I really the same me I was before the call?
I knew things I didn’t before the call, like the pilot wave interpretation, but that didn’t prove anything, nor did it change the result. I stopped worrying about it.