Placebo by Steven James Read Free Book Online Page B

intentions and expectations about reality actually affect the outcome of reality. Without the observer the quantum wave function never collapses.” Admittedly, the collapsing quantum wave was a concept I needed a little more time to really grasp.
    As far as I could understand it, quantum physicists claimed that since possibilities do not become reality without conscious observation, matter could not exist without consciousness. So, according to Dr. Tanbyrn, philosophers ask, “If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one to hear it, does it make any sound?” but physicists are forced to ask, “If there’s no one there to observe the tree fall, does it even exist?”
    As he writes:
    Our universe is both a puzzle and an answer, both a mystery and an adventure. From the earliest explorations of the human mind to probing the mysteries of existence, we as a species have always been question-askers. And now, with the advancement of quantum physics, the answers we find only produce more profound questions about what is happening on the subatomic level of the universe.
    Remarkably, none of the explanations used to explain the activity of subatomic particles has been proven. Not M-theory, superstring theory, the multiverse. Basically, in understanding quantum physics, you need to remember that scientists still don’t understand the nature of life, that although they can test how energy reacts under different circumstances, they still don’t really understand what it is.
    In some quarters it’s even debated whether quantum physics should be considered science or a field of metaphysics.
    My mind is spinning, not only because of the mystical-sounding quantum theories I’m reading, but also, admittedly, at the thought of Charlene showering in the next room over. I try to concentrate on the intricate concepts of the book, but the sound of the running water and the knowledge of who it’s washing over is a little too distracting.
    Hoping to divert my thoughts, I step outside.
    Clouds have rolled in. The evening is cool. Jacket weather.
    A light mist touches the air.
    Almost dark.
    I read for a few more minutes but can still hear the water running inside the cabin, so I take out my cell and go on a walk to check if I can get a signal and to see if the files Fionna was going to send me have arrived.

    Two miles away
    Glenn Banner did not think of himself as an assassin.
    Yes, he had killed people, eleven so far, and always in the name of money, but still, when he thought of assassins, he pictured slick, highly paid professionals who hide on rooftops, snap ten-thousand-dollar rifles together, take out opposition-party political figures, and then, fake passport in hand, melt into the crowd on their way to another country to lie low for a couple weeks before their next hit.
    When Glenn thought of an assassin, he didn’t think of a guy whoworked most days as a mechanic, a guy who was just trying to make ends meet, a divorced dad who was doing the best he knew to put food on the table and have enough cash left over to spend some time with his daughter on weekends. Mary Beth was six and lived with her mother and her stepfather two miles from Glenn’s mobile home that lay on the outskirts of Seattle.
    No, he didn’t think of himself as an assassin.
    But none of that changed what he was.
    Lots of people had unsavory jobs they needed done, and that’s where Glenn came in. Sometimes it meant getting compromising photos of someone, or scaring off an ex-spouse, or beating some sense into a young punk who wouldn’t leave a guy’s daughter alone. Small jobs really, but they were the sort of thing Glenn was good at, and they helped pay the bills.
    But two years ago he’d moved up the food chain.
    Toward more permanent solutions.
    Yes, he looked more like the guy who lives down the block than he did a professional problem solver, but his low visibility was part of what made him so