Beryl Arix

How do I prove to you people in 2017 that I'm a timetraveller from 3060?
John Geare, studied at Dickinson College Written Sun

Sounds like you have discovered, or perhaps you actually are, Beryl Arix, who in early February 2012, evidently made her appearance at the University of Science and Technology of China in Hefei City, about 550 miles south of Beijing. Dressed as she was in a black pants suit and tunic, she attracted little attention on the sprawling campus of the University, which occupies many city blocks of downtown Hefei.

But she soon attracted the attention of student members of the UST computer club, whom she amazed by rapidly solving very knotty AI problems club members were pondering in connection with their course of studies.

At last, in early May of 2012 she was presented by the students to Zhiming Liu, famed Chinese computer scientist who at the time was on loan from The University of Leicester (yes, the UK) and was lecturing students at UST on fault tolerance of software and hardware systems. And there, she amazed him with seemingly off-the-cuff solutions to the very gritty issues of integrating fault conditions as part of dynamic, self-correcting programs, known then as WADP, which stands for “work around dynamic programming.”

Soon enough, Liu asked for her student ID credentials which of course Beryl could not produce. Her reason, according to Frank Boyles from IBM’s Watson Institute, was that she was actually “just visiting.” Boyles was on hand as a collaborator with Liu in resolving learning algorithms when Watson “got it wrong,” especially with regard to medical diagnosis applications.

Although Beryl lacked credentials, she certainly wasn’t short on smarts, so she became a kind of mascot in the department. But in the fullness of time, Boyles and Liu could stand it no longer, and at a restaurant meeting, they began to pin her down: “Where do you come from?” “Who are you, really?”

Her story, as Boyles related it to the National Academy of Science (US) was that she was from “ten of your centuries in the future.” There was, of course, no way to objectively test for this, since no one today knows what the world will be like ten “of our” centuries into the future. However, her fluency in spoken Mandarin Chinese and English, and in written French and German, indicated a capacious intellect.

Her immediate discernment of thorny computer programming issues and the underlying logical operations was stunning; even more so the way she presented them to Liu and Boyles. She would simply say, “why don’t you try this?” and when her suggestion was tested, it worked! Moreover, the manner of her instruction was so effective, that Liu and Boyles somehow seemed to absorb her manner of thinking, and could quickly develop the theoretical underpinnings and practical applications they needed, after just an example, or two, from Beryl.

Bottom line: Not only was Beryl smart, she made other people smart, too.

Neither scientist was convinced that Beryl came “from the future.” As they related in an Academy Proceedings letter in 2014, they simply “let it ride.” After all, it made no sense to demand proof of residency which could never be satisfactorily proven; it was more prudent to accept her origin story and be informed by her very real talent. Who cares where she comes from?

Beryl understood her personal story was regarded as doubtful, and made no special effort to prove her authenticity. But she, Liu and Boyles all agreed to keep the matter confidential among themselves, spinning a public story of a little girl abandoned to an orphanage. And she was easy to like, freely engaging in social events with the computer club members, going to concerts, and evidently possessed of an insatiable appetite for KFC.

In October of 2012, it was time for Boyles to return to the Watson Institute at Armonk, NY. He and Liu considered what to do about Beryl, in somewhat the same way as the Mother Superior pondered the problem of “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?” in Richard Rogers’ The Sound of Music.

The answer was for Beryl to go with Frank. She would travel under a Chinese passport, and be legal in the USA for 120 days. One might think that a person with no identity at all would find it difficult to obtain a right of passage from careful Chinese authorities, but such is not the case. After all, there are millions of Chinese who, to this day, have no pedigree. What do you do? You simply say who you are NOW. And if there is sufficient pressure from academic or government circles, you’ll get your pass. As, indeed, she did.

As Frank related it in his subsequent testimony to the US House Science, Space, and Technology Committee, meeting in closed session on January 16, 2013, Beryl became unusually insistent with him on their flight from Beijing to New York. Her awareness of history was, evidently, as keen as her physics and mathematical abilities. Her message was that she would not tolerate any attempt to weaponize her. Although Boyles had no thought of doing so, he was quite impressed by Beryl’s command of the proceedings of the US government and eagerness to stay ahead of the curve when it comes to war making technology. She wasn’t having any of it. Her familiarity with the US legislature and foreign policy agenda was stunning. How does a Chinese orphan know these things?

Therefore, shortly after return to Armonk, and with Beryl in a safe apartment of her own, Boyle contacted Chuck Schumer’s office for an appointment, which, owing to Frank’s status, was immediately arranged. Schumer agreed -no weaponization. Instead, he suggested a hearing before the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, of which he was a member. This was a closed meeting, whose minutes are still secret, but the upshot was a referral of Beryl to the National Academy of Sciences, who, as an independent body, might be trusted by Beryl.

Beryl agreed, and went before a board of inquirers appointed by then Academy President Ralph J. Cicerone. The results of that inquiry have not yet been published, but the agenda, and the interest of the board members is widely known in some circles. The folks there totally “got it” that she was a pretty smart lady; so smart, in fact, that her claims of a residency far into the future were taken quite seriously.

Their desire for proof of her “home time” in the 30th century was not so much borne of doubt about her claim on grounds of a mental disorder, but rather as to the question more generally: how can anyone discern the veracity of a claim of existing at some time in the far future. How do you test? How do you know?

A protocol was designed to tease this out. In summary, leading physicists and others produced questions regarding their current unresolved issues, and asked for a resolution. Basically, this resolved to a cheat sheet which would show right NOW what experiments at CERN’S Large Hadron Collider could test in the immediate future. Other tests referred to astronomical observations of deep space phenomena which could be observed by Hubble or by Webb, if the scientists only knew where to look. These requests could not be answered by Beryl’s memory, alone, but she was capable of indicating how to find the answers. She would say, “I don’t know the answer, but I know how to find the answer.” And as it turned out, she was spot-on with every one of her recommendations.

In the article, When is Beryl?, published in the March, 2014 Academy Gleanings (circulated only among members) most of the 40 board members were skeptical of her claims of a future residency. A small minority accepted her claim facially. And a few others simply said, “Not from now, but don’t know.”

After her grilling by the Academy, Beryl returned to her Armonk apartment. She and Frank fell into a comfortable relationship, in which she told him, over dinners, or while trout fishing in the nearby Bear Gutter Creek, her complete story. Frank, the scientist, was frustrated by the lack of means to test her statements, although he was personally given to accept her claims. And Beryl was likewise frustrated by her inability to present anything which could be validated by Frank’s experience in the present. She could only offer one bit of evidence, but could not tell Frank what it would be, allowing only that he would “know it when he saw it.”

And so it was, according to Frank, that sometime in January, 2016, Beryl simply disappeared. After a few days of no appearance at Frank’s office, and no response to his calls, police were dispatched to her apartment, for a “wellness check.” She was not to be found, nor even any trace of her. No clothing, no anything - not even fingerprints. Nothing. Frank took this as her message. Someone who came from “nowhere” went back to “nowhere.”

However, a few days later, Frank received a post card in his mail box. No return address, just a message: “I’ll be back - B.”

Thus the appearance of this interesting Quora question, which meshes so closely with the story of Beryl, may portray her return.

Alas, we can’t ask Frank; he’s gone on to his greater reward. But the question he faced is the one we face: how do you know, how do you really KNOW, when someone comes from?

Source: https://www.quora.com/How-do-I-prove-to-you-people-in-2017-that-Im-a-timetraveller-from-3060