Chronopunk: A novel (Episode 3)
If you went back in time, what knowledge would you gift the past to save the future?
Chapter 7
Mody gets an apartment in Bucktown, deliberately choosing a location removed from the University of Chicago campus. Minimizing his impact on present-day events is paramount. Though the mission necessitates some intervention, Lisa has underscored the need to avoid disturbing the natural course of events beyond those critical moments. Lingering near the university would heighten the risk of meddling in affairs that might ripple back to Lisa herself, jeopardizing the delicate time symmetry parameters underpinning the mission. Since Lisa, in her academic days, never gravitated toward trendy locales, Bucktown remained off her radar, making it a good choice for Mody to set up base.
Lisa lived in Lincoln Park, north of the Loop, in a sleek Mies van der Rohe high-rise. After spending her early childhood in Orange County the family relocated to Los Altos in the Bay Area, where her father joined Synopsys, a prominent chip design firm. She had once dreamed of attending Stanford, but ultimately enrolled at the University of Michigan, earning degrees in physics and mathematics. This path led her westward to Chicago, where she pursued a master’s in physics and unraveled the infamous Mongarthy time-lapse problems. It was during one of her countless commutes from Hyde Park to Lincoln Park that the call came from Australia. The voice on the line—Mongarthy’s—was unmistakable. To the time-travel research community, Professor Mongarthy had rock star status. He had tackled the so-called “hard problem of time travel,” an intergenerational conundrum that some deemed unsolvable. Yet Mongarthy, armed with a PhD from Oxford and inspired by David Deutsch’s philosophy, disagreed. He embraced the view that whatever the laws of physics permit is possible—or, as he famously quipped, “If master physics doesn’t object, we’re free to act as we please.”
The call reached Lisa at a pivotal moment in Mongarthy’s research. He believed he had devised a solution to the intergenerational time-lapse problem, yet certain elements of the mathematics refused to align with general quantum mechanics. Specifically, he grappled with complexities in the Schrödinger equations. It was precisely this challenge that prompted his move to Sydney, where he had accepted a position at the University of New South Wales.
“The Aussies were willing to give me a pass with Erwin”, he often joked.
Most institutions, including Stanford—where he had earned his first tenure—dismissed his unorthodox perspectives on quantum mechanics.
“Mongarthy is undeniably brilliant, yet at times he appears consumed by an ambitious overestimation of his own abilities. We don’t want another Einstein—what we need are influential papers to shape the field,” remarked Dean Jennifer Thomson during one of her town hall meetings at Stanford.
Mongarthy left California to escape such petty criticism. Australia, though geographically remote, had long been a cradle for groundbreaking scientific work. Much seminal research, particularly in cosmology, had indeed emerged from Down Under. Yet the country retained a certain New World allure—an audacious defiance of entrenched academic norms and conventions. “Some of that vitality,” Mongarthy once observed, “stems from their lack of arrogance and entitlement.” It was an open secret that he had severed ties with the scientific establishment, casting himself as a renegade. Still, his brilliance was undeniable, and when Lisa hung up the phone, she nearly wept. Receiving an invitation from Mongarthy to join him in his work must have felt akin to a summons from Schrödinger himself—or perhaps Richard Feynman. Like Mongarthy, both men had little regard for social niceties or academic pedantry. And, much like his illustrious predecessors, Mongarthy embraced towering intellectual risks with indifference to others’ opinions. His scientific ethos found its perfect echo in a Feynman quote displayed above his desk at the University of Sydney:
‘Paul Dirac had the courage to simply guess at the form of the equation and try to interpret it afterwards.’
When Lisa first visited Mongarthy in Sydney, she immediately sparked a conversation about the quote.
"Oh my gosh, this is my favorite science quote!” she exclaimed.
“This is science. What else is there?” He replied.
At that moment, Lisa realized she wouldn’t even return to the US. Her destiny lay right there in that office, collaborating with this man to tackle some of the most challenging physics problems of their era.
Much to the dismay of Charles and Tara Chu, Lisa’s parents, she phoned that same day and asked them to send her belongings to an AirBnB she had rented while still sitting in Mongarthy’s office.
“I’d love to invite you to stay with me for a while,” Mongarthy said, “but with the stifling moral scrutiny that’s taken over campus since the ’20s, I suggest renting an Airbnb until you settle somewhere permanent.”
“It’s a shame we can’t just be human anymore,” he said, “but that’s exactly what we’re working to change here.”
Lisa didn’t quite grasp what he meant. She’d understand soon enough.
Chapter 8
Charles Chu earned his PhD from the University of Washington, where he met Tara—the woman who would become his wife and Lisa’s mother. A passionate admirer of both science and sports, Charles excelled at both. His swimming career nearly took him to the Olympics, if not for an untimely shoulder injury that cut his dreams short.
Born to Taiwanese parents, Charles always saw his life’s mission as continuing the remarkable legacy of Taiwanese immigrants in the United States. After marrying Tara, a striking Midwestern math major, the couple settled in Orange County near USC, where she began her career as an assistant professor. Meanwhile, Charles worked for various defense companies before deciding to return to academia to pursue a PhD at UCLA.
Lisa embodied a seamless blend of USC and UCLA, two of Southern California’s finest academic institutions. With Tara’s Scandinavian heritage and Charles’ refined Chinese demeanor, she was not only strikingly beautiful but possessed an intellect as sharp as a finely crafted samurai sword.
Los Angeles was the ideal place for a girl like Lisa to grow up. She effortlessly showcased her beauty along the beaches of Orange County while dazzling with her intellect at cocktail parties in West Hollywood—thriving in both worlds. Early success in commercial acting brought her not only financial independence but also valuable connections. Her first serious boyfriend, a UCLA basketball player, introduced her to the world of sports, which she embraced with enthusiasm.
"Sports was the perfect playground for me," Lisa would later reflect. "It's full of good-looking men with an innate drive for excellence and commitment."
By the time she was drafting her college admission essays, Lisa had already made a name for herself as an accomplished beach volleyball player. Despite her perfect grades, top SAT scores, and a spot on her high school’s varsity beach volleyball team, it still wasn’t enough to get her a spot at Stanford.
“Maybe it’s because I’m too flashy,” she sighed. “They don’t like people like me in Palo Alto.”
Eventually, she chose the University of Michigan over Berkeley, drawn in part by its sports culture. “Michigan is like a locker room with a school attached,” she joked. “I can play, play, and study.” The double meaning was no accident—Lisa remained a player both on the field and in her social life throughout college.
Lisa was equally at ease dating football players as she was tackling complex science projects. “Girls like Lisa don’t come along every day,” joked Pat Daniels, the Wolverines’ starting kicker and high profile boyfriend. Her mother, however, was far less enthusiastic about Lisa’s preference for football players.
"I didn’t raise you to be a cheerleader. Why waste your time with these jocks?" she would scold.
"Mom, Pat is at the top of his class. He’s on track for a PhD in engineering—unless he gets drafted into the NFL. Just because he showcases his skills in front of a hundred thousand people doesn’t mean he’s not a good person," Lisa would argue.
Lisa’s relentless pursuit of excellence was obvious to everyone but herself. While Tara worried about it, Charles took a more laid-back approach. “She’ll figure it out. Let her be. She’s living the college experience. As long as she stays at the top of her class, I don’t care what she does on weekends,” he’d say.
“But traveling like a groupie with those men isn’t right,” Tara insisted.
“Come on, Tara, she’s neither a groupie nor a cheerleader. She just happens to be in love with a football player. That’s all.”
“Charley,”—Tara used this version of his name to signal a serious conversation—“it’s not healthy for her to be jet-setting around and spending so much time on social media. This isn’t going to end well.”
“End well? Tara, you’re overreacting. It’s not like she’s doing drugs or anything.”
“Yes, it’s exactly like that. It’s as if she’s on a high.”
“And what happens when this guy drops her or cheats on her with some bimbo, huh? Have you thought about that?” Tara pressed.
“Stop worrying about Lisa and her ability to handle life,” Charles replied. “So far, she’s done pretty well in every aspect. Don’t forget where she grew up—Hollywood. She navigated all those social sharks without falling into the trap of the Hollywood dream factory. She could have ended up doing soap commercials for a living—or worse. Instead, she chose to study physics at one of the best schools in the country. She’ll manage Michigan just fine, too.”
The real test came a year later when Pat was drafted in the third round by the Miami Dolphins. His rookie contract alone promised more money than Lisa could ever hope to earn. Now, the question was whether she should follow him to Miami.
Lisa was torn. She still had two years left at Michigan, and while a long-distance relationship was possible, the idea unsettled her. In the end, it was Pat who brought up the difficult conversation.
"Look, Lisa, I adore you. But do I love you enough to ask you to come with me? I don’t know. My life is about to become a whirlwind—travel, games, media… You think college football is intense? The NFL is like living in a public square, with everyone watching your every move.
You’re too ambitious to be sidelined as ‘the sidekick’ of an NFL player. And let’s be honest—that’s exactly how the media will portray you, no matter what we do. They’ll reduce you to a cheerleader with a degree or something ridiculous like that. I don’t want that for you."
"You… you’re breaking up with me?" Lisa’s voice cracked.
"Call it what you want. I just don’t think you should throw away your studies to follow me to Miami. Whether you call it a breakup or just being realistic, it’s the same thing."
Lisa stood up without a word and walked out of the room. That was the last time she saw Pat in person.
Chapter 9
"Yo, Pat... he wazz actually right, ya know? Like, in his all... self-righteous, macho kinda way, he did what was best for both of us. Dude was off to be some big shot in the NFL, all glorr—glamrrr... fancy n’ stuff, and me? Pffft, I wasn’t built for that life. Sooo, he dumped me. Makes sense, rrright?"
Lisa raised her tequila glass, looking at Jenny with blurry eyes. Their favorite Lincoln Park watering hole wasn’t just a hangout—it was their unofficial therapy room. Whenever one of them felt down, the other played the shrink, listening intently as they knocked back tequila shots.
"You knoooow," Lisa slurred, taking another sloppy sip, "he’s a biiig shot now, down there in Miami… Miamiiiiii. But ya wanna know what reeeally hurt? It wasn’t the breakup, nahhh. Noooope. It was that he stopped thinkin’ ‘bout me with every lil’ decision. I could feeel it—he was switchin’ gears. Somethin’ in his… his demee—demeanerrr… yeah, that... it changed."
Jenny nodded slowly, resting her head in one hand. “Yeeaah… that’s it,” she mumbled. “Him not f-focusssing on me. That’s what got me. I caaaan’t stand it when men make dezzisions without me in m’nd.”
"Lezzz tossst to jocks and their gooodly—godly bodies!" Lisa slurred, rolling her eyes before slamming back her tequila shot in perfect sync with Jenny.
Lisa had settled in Chicago after being recruited by Professor Zahra Shani, a leading figure in time travel physics, to pursue her master’s degree. Shani had hoped Lisa would commit to a PhD, but she wasn’t ready for that level of commitment just yet. “Let’s do the master’s and then see,” she told a somewhat disappointed Shani.
Chicago was the perfect antidote to Lisa’s post-Pat trauma—no jocks, no glamour, and no obsession with college football. It was exactly what Charles and Tara had wanted for her. She was now fully immersed in mathematics and hands-on experimental work at Fermilab near Naperville.
In many ways, Chicago was the opposite of LA. The weather alone was a stark contrast—where LA had a pleasant mix of warmth and cool breezes from the Santa Ana Mountains, Chicago was relentless. Whether it was the biting winter winds or the sweltering summer heat, the city’s climate was unforgiving. But that suited Lisa just fine. Chicago wasn’t about spectacle; it was about work.
“It’s the kind of place where you get what you see and see what you get,” Lisa would often describe the city on Lake Michigan.
She carried an obvious navel of the world complex, a trait common among those who grew up in New York or LA. To her, every other major city felt like an overgrown suburb clogged with traffic. To be fair, Chicago was essentially a sprawl of suburbs with dreadful congestion. But it was also home to the University of Chicago, boasting one of the nation’s top physics programs—the real reason Lisa was there.
She threw herself into the study of physics and time-lapse symmetry with the kind of dedication and intensity that Professor Shani had hoped for. While she occasionally went on dates, her defenses were firmly in place after what had happened with Pat, making it nearly impossible for anyone to get too close.
“Men here are like chicken soup when you’ve got the flu,” she’d joke. “You need it, you enjoy it… but thinking about it just makes you feel worse.”
Lisa’s reluctance to engage in worldly pleasures, coupled with Chicago’s relatively subdued nightlife, made the city an ideal setting for her to immerse herself in academics—which she did with lazer focus. Her master’s thesis was “groundbreaking” in the words of one of her co-advisors, and could have easily passed as a concise PhD, prompting Professor Shani to encourage her to stay and pursue the full doctorate. Lisa weighed the option, drawn by Shani’s inspiring work on time-lapse symmetries, but then an opportunity arose from Sydney. In Lisa’s estimation, Shani, for all her brilliance, couldn’t rival Mongarthy. His research aligned perfectly with the challenges Lisa was eager to tackle, and with his towering reputation fueling her ambition (and ego), she saw the potential to accomplish something truly extraordinary.
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