Southend U3A

Writing for Fun

The C.E.R.N. Cancellation - Jan Osborne

February 2014

Damos Petrakis was a particle physicist working for C.E.R.N: the European nuclear research laboratory based near Geneva. The Large Hadron Collider housed deep underground had been built to allow experiments to try and solve the mysteries of the Big Bang and the origins of matter.

The matter, antimatter particle collision experiment of 2012 had created worldwide consternation. Many people thought that the physicists were dabbling in quantum experimentation with very little idea of the physical outcome except that which was based on theoretical, mathematical prediction. Fears abounded that high energy proton collisions would create mini black holes that would grow and annihilate Earth. The particle collision had caused mini black holes but they had been too weak to cause damage and disintegrated after a few seconds. This side effect outweighed the fact that Higgs-like Boson particles, which until now had only existed in theory, had been formed. The success enabled monies to be made available in 2013 to upgrade the Hadron Collider.

After an absence of eighteen months the scientists had returned to CERN in early 2015 to work with a redesigned and now much more powerful machine. Damos was checking the new mathematical data to predict the outcome of a proton collision experiment, much like the one in 2013, but using greater acceleration forces on much more highly energised particles. During the last few months Damos had been working on a new theory of his own that raised serious issues about the stability of any black holes that would be produced. No one would take his concerns seriously and his anxiety increased to fever pitch. Now all preparations had been made and today, Monday, the twentieth of April the great event was to take place at one pm Geneva time.

However, at this precise moment Damos was on the 9.30 am, two and a half hour flight from Geneva to Athens. His destination was the University where he held the Chair in Physics. Yesterday afternoon, after a huge row with director Carl Andersen, he had been told he was now off the project and ordered to take leave of absence and go home and rest. A flight had been booked for him leaving first thing in the morning. Clearly his boss thought he was heading for a nervous breakdown and that his 'End of the world' theory was unfounded and built on data that he thought was the product of a mind that was slowly coming unglued.

Damos's immediate reaction was to e-mail his new deadly calculations to a dear, trusted university colleague Nikolas with the request to disregard protocol and ensure that this material be fed into their supercomputer. He was to do it immediately regardless of whose work had to be delayed. He had to have proof that his calculations were sound and stop the experiment. He had calculated that the increased power that the modified proton accelerator could now generate would produce collision forces above the Planck energy limit and that a black hole created this time would be powerful enough to destroy the earth.

The stewardess brought the large whisky and soda he had ordered. He downed it in one then ordered another. His stomach growled in protest. A dog eared notebook was open on his tray and the pages of maths rifled through again and again as he scanned for errors. Damos could find no fault but he continued looking, muttering aloud and pulling at his hair which irritated his flight companions.

In an alcoholic haze he tried hard to make sense of what he could see through the taxi window but was blinded by the bright hot sunshine bouncing off the windows of the passing shop fronts in Athens. Suddenly his mobile rang. He jumped with surprise and all his notes slid to the floor. Pitching forward to retrieve them caused his head to come into violent contact with the chrome bar on the seat in front and he let forth a stream of abuse in Greek that impressed the taxi driver no end. Fumbling and still cursing he answered his 'phone. A startled Nikolas cautiously asked if that was Damos and was relieved that it was he, although a little perturbed by this angry reception.

Frantically Damos struggled out of the taxi dropping his briefcase and flight bag on the ground to shove a wad of notes into the driver's hand as payment. The driver grinned and drove off. It was now nearly twelve o' clock by the university tower clock and he had just been told by Nikolas that the supercomputer had still not finished its calculations but it could be any time soon. He could hardly bear it. He had to have proof to e-mail those at C.E.R.N before one this afternoon so that Armageddon could be averted.

Would he get an answer in time? His stomach churned as the fear coursed through his body. He picked up his briefcase and holdall and headed for the laboratory in a clumsy run. Once inside his office he threw himself into his chair and frenetically typed strings of codes to gain access to the supercomputer. Still there was no answer. He glanced at the wall clock and seeing that it was 12.40 broke into a sweat. Dear God! Only 20 minutes to go. What the hell could he do? He grabbed the 'phone with trembling hands and misdialled C.E.R.N. Taking a deep breath he tried again. This time he got through to a receptionist. 'I am Damos Petrakis put me through to the operating centre at the Hadron collider.'

'Sorry, but Dr Damos Petrakis is not available at the moment.'

'Look, you idiot, I am Dr Damos Petrakis I demand you put me through to the Hadron at once!'

'I do not have to listen to abuse. I am going to hang up!' The line went dead.

Furiously he threw the handset at the wall, then horrified that he might have broken his only means to avert the Apocalypse, flung himself onto the floor in the direction he had last seen the instrument.

'What in Hades are you doing Damos?'

Damos jerked himself to his feet and looked once again the wall clock. It showed five minutes past one.

'Is it really five past? he roared at Nikolas.

Glancing at his own watch he said, 'Yes it's five past.' He then staggered back as Damos launched himself at Nikolas and hugged him fiercely.

'Oh thank the heavens. Oh God be praised. I must have been wrong all the time.' Wiping the tears of relief from his eyes he slumped down into his chair and started crying in earnest.

Nikolas, not knowing all the facts from the scant information in the e-mail he had received, looked in concern at his dear friend's strange behaviour.

'Look, you stay here, old friend, and rest and I will get us some food and a good bottle of Ouzo to celebrate whatever has made you so overjoyed.' With a quick pat on Damos's back he hurriedly left.

Once the storm of tears had abated, Damos, exhausted, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Sometime later he was awoken by Nikolas plonking down a huge glassful of Ouzo in front of him. Leaning back in his chair he raised his glass and downed it in one. Slamming his glass on the table he thanked his friend and thought of his colleagues at C.E.R.N. How he would be glad to see them again and even to eat humble pie for being such a Doomsday merchant. Out of habit he glanced at his watch. It showed the time to be nearly one pm. How could this be?

Then the full horror dawned on him. It really was one pm at C.E.R.N. There was one hour time difference between the two countries. It was two pm here. The experiment was about to take place any sec . . . . . . . . .