The man in the suit—who I now guessed was Einstein's assistant or secretary—sat across from me in the back seat of a luxurious, old-fashioned automobile. Outside, the streets of Berlin bustled with life, a mixture of horse-drawn carts and early automobiles, pedestrians in long coats, and buildings that looked fresh out of a history book.
I stared out the window, my brain scrambling for a plan. I had no idea what Einstein was supposed to say at this conference. The thought of standing in front of a crowd of intellectuals—people who had studied my supposed "work" for years—made my stomach twist.
The man cleared his throat. "Professor, I took the liberty of reviewing your notes for today's speech."
I tensed. "Oh? And?"
"They're… quite bold."
Oh, great. "Bold" could mean anything. Did Einstein write something revolutionary? Something insane? Something I couldn't even begin to understand?
I needed to stall. "Remind me," I said, forcing a casual tone. "Which part stood out to you?"
He gave me a strange look but humored me. "Well, your discussion on the implications of quantum mechanics, for one. The idea that observation itself might influence reality… It's groundbreaking, but some may push back. You know how certain physicists are."
Quantum mechanics? Influence reality? That sounded suspiciously like Schrödinger's cat—except I had no idea if that concept had even been introduced yet. My historical knowledge was patchy at best.
I nodded sagely. "Ah, yes. Physicists. Always pushing back."
The assistant didn't seem convinced. "Professor, you are the one pushing physics forward."
Right. No pressure or anything.
The car pulled up in front of an imposing building, where a crowd had already gathered. Men in formal suits, some holding newspapers, others deep in conversation. A few reporters lurked at the edges, eyeing the arriving guests like hungry wolves.
I swallowed hard. "Are there… a lot of people here?"
"The hall is full," the assistant said, stepping out of the car. He turned to offer me a hand, but I waved him off and climbed out stiffly, trying to maintain my dignity.
As soon as I stepped onto the pavement, the murmurs started.
"There he is—Professor Einstein."
"The mind of our generation."
"I hear his new theories will change everything."
Yeah, well, I'd love to hear them too.
I forced a smile and gave a small wave, channeling the energy of a celebrity trying to keep cool under pressure. My assistant led me through the crowd and into the grand hall, where I was immediately greeted by a flurry of handshakes and introductions I barely registered.
And then, before I knew it, I was being ushered onto a stage.
A podium stood before me. Rows upon rows of eager eyes stared up, waiting for the wisdom of Albert Einstein. A chalkboard sat behind me, equations already half-scribbled across its surface, as if my past self had been preparing something before I took over.
I gripped the podium, heart hammering.
I was about to give a speech. On quantum physics. As Einstein.
I took a breath. Think. Improvise. If I couldn't be smart, I could at least be vague.
I tapped the papers in front of me as if gathering my thoughts. Then, in my best German accent, I began:
"Physics… is very complicated."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Some nodded, others leaned in. Okay. So far, so good.
I cleared my throat. "In life, as in quantum mechanics, things… change. Yes."
A few bearded professors exchanged glances.
I turned to the chalkboard, scanning the equations. One of them looked vaguely like E=mc², which was a relief—at least I knew I was in the right scientific universe.
I picked up a piece of chalk and underlined one of the symbols dramatically, as if making a point. "Here, we see… an equation."
More murmurs. Some thoughtful nods.
I turned back to the crowd. "Many people wonder—what does it mean?"
Absolute silence. They were hanging on my every word.
I had no idea where I was going with this.
"It means…" I paused, pretending to be deep in thought. "That we must continue to question. To observe. To… explore the nature of the universe."
A few men in the front row began nodding excitedly. Someone scribbled notes.
I was pulling this off.
I pressed forward. "And in doing so, we realize that reality is not so fixed as we once believed. Much like…" I searched my brain for an example. "A loaf of bread."
That got a reaction. A few confused looks. A cough. But I had already committed.
"Yes," I continued. "Much like a loaf of bread, the universe is constantly rising. Expanding. Taking shape in ways we do not always expect."
A professor in the front row whispered something to his colleague. I could tell some of them were skeptical, but others looked intrigued.
I nodded confidently. "And that, my friends, is why we must always keep thinking."
Silence.
Then—applause.
Not just polite applause—genuine, enthusiastic clapping. A few men even stood up, nodding in approval.
I exhaled slowly. I had somehow made it through that without exposing myself as a fraud.
As I stepped down from the podium, a distinguished-looking gentleman approached me. His sharp eyes studied me with intense curiosity.
"Fascinating talk, Professor Einstein," he said. "Your insights on observation and reality… they remind me of some peculiar theories I've been considering myself."
I forced a smile. "Ah, yes. Peculiar theories. My favorite kind."
He extended a hand. "I would love to discuss them further. I'm Werner Heisenberg."
My brain short-circuited. Werner Heisenberg? The future founder of the uncertainty principle? One of the most important figures in quantum mechanics?
Oh, no.
I had just given a nonsense speech about bread to Werner Heisenberg.
And now, he wanted to talk.
I swallowed hard, shaking his hand. "Of course, Herr Heisenberg. I… would be delighted."
As we walked off the stage together, I realized something terrifying.
If I wasn't careful, I wasn't just going to live Einstein's life.
I was going to shape the future of physics itself.
And I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
End of Chapter 2