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# Quantum–Mechanical Dualities on the Torus

## 1 Introduction

In the quantum mechanics of a finite number of degrees of freedom, a duality is the possibility of having nontrivial transformations between the Hilbert spaces of states corresponding to different observers on classical phase space $`𝒞`$ . Under an observer one understands, in general relativity, a little man carrying a ruler and a clock. In fact one may forget about the little man while keeping his ruler and his clock, to conclude that an observer is just a local coordinate chart on spacetime. By the same token, in a quantum–mechanical setup, an observer will be a local coordinate chart $`(𝒰,z)`$ on $`𝒞`$, where $`𝒰`$ is an open neighbourhood of a point $`p𝒞`$ endowed with the coordinate functions $`z`$.

The notation $`z`$ for the coordinates on $`𝒞`$ is not accidental. As a classical phase space, $`𝒞`$ will be a symplectic manifold. As the starting point for quantisation, $`𝒞`$ will also be a complex manifold, i.e., coordinate changes $`(𝒰,z)(𝒰^{},z^{})`$ will be biholomorphic maps between the charts $`𝒰`$ and $`𝒰^{}`$. This is so because, in the quantum theory, provision has to be made for the creation and annihilation of quanta. The quantum–mechanical creation and annihilation operators are easily seen to be intimately related with the complex structure on $`𝒞`$. In other words, quantisation requires a complex–differentiable structure on classical phase space. It is natural to assume that the complex structure and the symplectic structure are compatible, i.e., that Darboux coordinates $`(q,p)`$ on $`𝒞`$ are the real and imaginary parts of the holomoprhic coordinates $`z`$, so we can write $`z=q+\mathrm{i}p`$. However it must be realised that, in classical mechanics, using complex coordinates $`z`$ or real Darboux coordinates $`(q,p)`$ is immaterial, as the relevant object to consider is the algebra of smooth functions on $`𝒞`$. It is only upon quantisation that a complex structure becomes relevant. This fact becomes especially clear in coherent–state quantisation. We will see that also canonical quantisation can be regarded as the choice of a complex structure on $`𝒞`$. (Symplectic spaces admitting no complex structure, but just an almost complex structure, have been analysed in ref. ; all symplectic spaces are almost complex).

On classical phase spaces admitting just one complex structure, there is no indeterminacy in the choice of the creation operators that create quanta out of a given vacuum. In these cases the notion of a quantum is universal, i.e., independent of the observer on classical phase space. Such is the case in all standard applications of quantum mechanics (harmonic oscillator, central potentials, angular momentum). However, as pointed out in ref. , recent developments suggest considering the possibility that the notion of a quantum may not be universal. Classical phase spaces admitting more than one complex structure thus provide a natural framework to study dualities in quantum mechanics; this is what we do in this article. In particular, we consider a classical mechanics whose phase space is a torus $`T^2`$ (a compact Riemann surface with genus 1), which is the simplest case of a complex manifold admitting a nontrivial moduli space of nonbiholomorphic complex structures. We are then faced with the unusual situation that not only the coordinate $`q`$, but also its conjugate momentum $`p`$, is a compact variable. Moreover, there is a whole continuum of nonbiholomoprhic, hence nonequivalent, choices for the complex structure $`\tau `$ on $`T^2`$ . Each one of them defines a physically different quantum theory on $`T^2`$; dualities arise as nonbiholomorphic transformations between them.

This article is organised as follows. Section 2 presents a specific classical dynamics whose classical phase space is a torus. Despite its unusual aspect, this dynamics actually turns out to be a natural generalisation of well–known examples, such the harmonic oscillator and the sine–Gordon model. The unifying character of our model appears when different limits are taken: then it reproduces the above–mentioned theories in a natural way. In section 3 we quantise it canonically. We perform a detailed analysis of the Hilbert space of states, the operators acting on it, and especially of the vacuum state, to arrive at the conclusion that the complex structure of the torus is a key ingredient in the quantum theory. In this way we conclude that our model exhibits dualities in the sense of refs. . For the sake of simplicity we work with just one degree of freedom, but our conclusions can be easily generalised. Thus in section 4 we provide more examples of classical phase spaces that are modelled on the torus. Section 5 discusses our results.

Issues partially overlapping with ours are dealt with in refs. . Finally, the (in)dependence of the quantum theory on the complex structure has been analysed in ref. ; see also . However our perspective is entirely different, since we interpret this dependence as a duality, a notion that chronologically appeared later .

## 2 Classical mechanics on the torus

Let us consider the $`(q,p)`$ plane. Quotienting the latter by the periodicity $`q\pi q+\pi `$ we obtain an infinitely tall cylinder $`Y^2`$. A torus $`T^2`$ is the quotient of $`Y^2`$ obtained by imposing the additional periodicity $`p\pi p+\pi `$. A classical mechanics whose phase space is this $`T^2`$ is given by the Hamiltonian function

$$H=\mathrm{cos}p\mathrm{cos}q,$$
(1)
where both $`p`$ and $`q`$ run over the interval $`(\pi ,\pi )`$. More precisely, above we have expressed the Hamiltonian in one particular coordinate chart on $`T^2=S^1\times S^1`$. Now $`S^1`$ cannot be covered by just one coordinate $`\phi `$ running over $`(\pi ,\pi )`$. However it can be covered by two charts, e.g., one with the coordinate $`\phi _1(\pi ,\pi )`$, the other with the coordinate $`\phi _2(0,2\pi )`$. In this way we obtain an atlas on $`T^2`$ containing 4 charts. In this section we will work on the chart specified in eqn. (1).

Separating out the quadratic term in $`\mathrm{cos}p=_k(1)^kp^{2k}/(2k)!`$, we can interpret $`H`$ as the dynamics of a unit–mass particle with a $`p`$–dependent potential $`V(q,p)`$:

$$H=\frac{1}{2}p^2+V(q,p),V(q,p)=\mathrm{cos}q\underset{k=2}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\frac{(1)^k}{(2k)!}p^{2k}.$$
(2)
Neglecting terms in $`p`$ higher than quadratic one obtains the sine–Gordon Hamiltonian

$$H_{\mathrm{SG}}=\frac{1}{2}p^2\mathrm{cos}q,$$
(3)
which describes a mathematical pendulum within a constant gravitational field. Further neglecting terms in $`q`$ higher than quadratic corresponds to taking the limit of small oscillations, given by the harmonic oscillator

$$H_2=\frac{1}{2}\left(p^2+q^2\right).$$
(4)
Eqn. (3) may be regarded as the approximation to $`T^2`$ given by the cylinder $`Y^2`$, where $`q`$ remains periodic while $`p`$ becomes noncompact. Similarly, eqn. (4) may be understood as the tangent–space approximation to $`T^2`$, given by the $`(q,p)`$ plane, where both $`q`$ and $`p`$ are noncompact. Conversely, the Hamiltonian (1) can be regarded as a large–$`p`$, large–$`q`$ completion of the approximations (3), (4).

## 3 Quantisation

Let us now set $`z=q+\mathrm{i}p`$. This defines a complex structure on the $`(q,p)`$ plane. In coherent–state quantisation , complex analyticity is manifest all along, through the use of the variable $`z`$. However, since our quantisation will be canonical, it will be convenient to retain $`q,p`$ as our variables. We will lose manifest analyticity, but we will nevertheless realise that the quantum theory depends crucially on the underlying complex structure.

### 3.1 The Hilbert space

In canonical quantisation there is one quantum state per unit of symplectic volume on $`𝒞`$. Thus a compact, $`2N`$–dimensional phase space gives rise to a finite–dimensional Hilbert space. Moreover, the dimension of $``$ is a monotonically increasing function of the symplectic volume of $`𝒞`$. We express this functional relation as

$$_𝒞\omega ^N\mathrm{dim},$$
(5)
where $`\omega `$ is the symplectic 2–form on $`𝒞`$, and the sign $``$ means that we suppress normalisation factors such as $`2\pi `$, $`\mathrm{i}\mathrm{}`$, etc. Unless the $`2N`$–form $`\omega ^N`$ is of fast decrease at infinity, a noncompact $`𝒞`$ leads to an infinite–dimensional Hilbert space $``$.

The Hamiltonian (1) refers to a specific complex structure, namely, a square torus of sides $`2\pi `$ and local holomorphic coordinate $`z=q+\mathrm{i}p`$. An arbitrary complex structure on $`T^2`$ would correspond to the Hamiltonian

$$H=\mathrm{cos}\alpha p\mathrm{cos}(\beta q+\delta ),$$
(6)
where $`\alpha ,\beta 𝐑`$ are arbitrary nonzero parameters allowing for different lengths along the torus axes, and $`\delta (0,2\pi )`$ is an arbitrary phase difference between the two periodicities. Setting $`\alpha =1`$, the parameter $`\beta `$ becomes the ratio between those lengths. Thus the remaining two parameters $`0<\beta <\mathrm{}`$, $`0<\delta <2\pi `$ respectively become the modulus and the argument of the modular parameter $`\tau `$ in the geometry of complex tori . A local holomorphic coordinate on this torus is $`w=(\beta q+\delta )+\mathrm{i}p`$. The corresponding Hamiltonian, that we will work with from now on, is

$$H=\mathrm{cos}p\mathrm{cos}(\beta q+\delta ).$$
(7)
The complex structure of (7) carries a symplectic form $`\omega _{\beta ,\delta }`$

$$\omega _{\beta ,\delta }=\mathrm{d}p\mathrm{d}(\beta q+\delta )=\beta \mathrm{d}p\mathrm{d}q.$$
(8)
The coordinate transformation

$$z=q+\mathrm{i}pw=(\beta q+\delta )+\mathrm{i}p$$
(9)
is canonical for $`\beta =1`$ and for any $`\delta (0,2\pi )`$. In the spirit of the $``$ sign in eqn. (5), we can assume $`\omega _{\beta =1,\delta }`$ normalised as

$$_{T^2}\omega _{1,\delta }=1.$$
(10)
Eqn. (10) corresponds to a 1–dimensional Hilbert space. If $`n`$ denotes the whole part of $`\beta 1`$, the symplectic form $`\omega _{\beta ,\delta }`$ corresponds to an $`n`$–dimensional Hilbert space.

### 3.2 Position and momentum

In coordinate representation, a basis of $`=𝐂^n`$ is given by a set of $`n`$ orthonormal states $`|q_j`$:

$$\underset{j=1}{\overset{n}{}}|q_jq_j|=\mathrm{𝟏}.$$
(11)
The position operator $`Q`$ is defined as

$$Q|q_j=q_j|q_j,j=1,\mathrm{},n.$$
(12)
We define an operator $`U`$

$`U|q_j`$ $`=`$ $`\mathrm{i}|q_{j+1},j=1,\mathrm{}n1,`$
$`U|q_n`$ $`=`$ $`\mathrm{i}|q_1.`$ (13)
Their commutator is

$$[Q,U]|q_j=\mathrm{i}(q_{j+1}q_j)|q_{j+1},j=1,\mathrm{},n.$$
(14)
The above holds for $`j=n`$ under the identification $`n+11`$, i.e.,

$$q_{n+1}=q_1,|q_{n+1}=|q_1.$$
(15)
While $`Q`$ is selfadjoint, $`U`$ is unitary:

$$U^+|q_j=\mathrm{i}|q_{j1}=U^1|q_j,j=1,\mathrm{},n.$$
(16)
This is no surprise, as $`U`$ effects a finite shift on the $`|q_j`$. As such it must equal the exponential of ($`\sqrt{1}`$ times) some selfadjoint momentum operator $`P`$. However the latter has no action defined on the $`|q_j`$ which, by their very nature, are discrete. This has profound consequences. A selfadjoint momentum operator $`P`$ could be defined as

$$P=\mathrm{i}\mathrm{log}U,$$
(17)
and its action on the $`|q_j`$ would then be some linear combination

$$P|q_j=\underset{k=1}{\overset{n}{}}p_{jk}|q_k,j=1,\mathrm{},n.$$
(18)
One could now try and impose the Heisenberg algebra

$$[Q,P]=\mathrm{i},$$
(19)
in order to obtain the matrix $`p_{jk}`$ of eqn. (18). However, on $`T^2`$ there is no way we can satisfy the commutator (19): this would violate the Stone–von Neumann theorem because our Hilbert space is $`𝐂^n`$ . In practical terms, some simple algebra shows that the $`p_{jk}`$ in fact cannot be obtained by imposing the above commutator. The closest analogue of the Heisenberg algebra that we can get in our model is eqn. (14).

### 3.3 The Hamiltonian

The quantum Hamiltonian corresponding to the classical Hamiltonian (7),

$$H=\mathrm{cos}P\mathrm{cos}(\beta Q+\delta ),$$
(20)
can be expressed as

$$H=\frac{1}{2}\left(\mathrm{e}^{\mathrm{i}P}+\mathrm{e}^{\mathrm{i}P}\right)\mathrm{cos}(\beta Q+\delta )=\frac{1}{2}\left(U+U^+\right)\mathrm{cos}(\beta Q+\delta ).$$
(21)
It acts on the basis $`|q_j`$ as

$$H|q_k=\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\left(|q_{k+1}|q_{k1}\right)\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_k+\delta )|q_k,$$
(22)
with the periodicity (15) understood. Hence the Hamiltonian matrix

$$q_j|H|q_k=\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\left(\delta _{j,k+1}\delta _{j,k1}\right)\delta _{jk}\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta ).$$
(23)
We will compute the characteristic polynomial $`s_n(E)=\mathrm{det}(E\mathrm{𝟏}H)`$ in the energy $`E`$ for an arbitrary $`n`$, but let us first work out some examples. When $`n=3`$ we have

$$\underset{j=1}{\overset{3}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right)+\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^2\underset{j=1}{\overset{3}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right).$$
(24)
When $`n=4`$ the characteristic polynomial is

$$\underset{j=1}{\overset{4}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right)+\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^2\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{(k,l)}{\mathrm{cyclic}}}{}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_k+\delta )+E\right)\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_l+\delta )+E\right),$$

where the subindex cyclic in the summation means that one is to sum over the pairs

$$(k,l)=(1,2)(2,3)(3,4)(4,1).$$

When $`n=5`$ we have a characteristic polynomial

$$\underset{j=1}{\overset{5}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right)+\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^4\underset{j=1}{\overset{5}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right)$$

$$+\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^2\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{(j,k,l)}{\mathrm{cyclic}}}{}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right)\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_k+\delta )+E\right)\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_l+\delta )+E\right),$$

where the subindex cyclic in the summation means that one is to sum over the triples

$$(j,k,l)=(1,2,3)(2,3,4)(3,4,5)(4,5,1)(5,1,2).$$

One proves by induction that, for even $`n`$, the characteristic polynomial is

$$\mathrm{det}\left(E\mathrm{𝟏}H\right)=\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{p=2}{\mathrm{even}}}{\overset{n}{}}\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^{np}\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{(l_1,l_2,\mathrm{},l_p)}{\mathrm{cyclic}}}{}\underset{k=1}{\overset{p}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_{l_k}+\delta )+E\right),$$
(25)
while for odd $`n`$ it is

$$\mathrm{det}\left(E\mathrm{𝟏}H\right)=\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{p=1}{\mathrm{odd}}}{\overset{n}{}}\left(\frac{\mathrm{i}}{2}\right)^{np}\underset{\genfrac{}{}{0pt}{}{(l_1,l_2,\mathrm{},l_p)}{\mathrm{cyclic}}}{}\underset{k=1}{\overset{p}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_{l_k}+\delta )+E\right).$$
(26)
The subindex cyclic means that the corresponding sum extends to all $`p`$–tuples

$$(l_1,l_2\mathrm{},l_p)=(1,2,\mathrm{},p)(2,3,\mathrm{},p+1)(3,4,\mathrm{}p+2)\mathrm{}$$

$$\mathrm{}(np+1,np+2\mathrm{},n)(np+2,np+3,\mathrm{},1)(np+3,np+4,\mathrm{},2)\mathrm{}$$

$$\mathrm{}(n,1,\mathrm{},p2,p1).$$
(27)
The cyclic property is a consequence of eqn. (15). A term common to both (25) and (26) is

$$\underset{j=1}{\overset{n}{}}\left(\mathrm{cos}(\beta q_j+\delta )+E\right),$$

as it corresponds to the unique $`n`$–tuple $`(1,2,\mathrm{},n1,n)`$. All factors of $`\sqrt{1}`$ are raised to even powers, so the characteristic polynomial has real coefficients. That the roots are also real follows from the Hermitian property of $`H`$ in eqn. (23).

### 3.4 The vacuum

We claim that the vacuum $`|0`$ of eqn. (23) is nondegenerate. To simplify the argument we will first set $`\beta =1`$, $`\delta =0`$. In order to prove nondegeneracy, we first assume turning off the kinetic term $`\mathrm{cos}P`$ in the Hamiltonian (20). Generically the spectrum of $`\mathrm{cos}Q`$ is 2–fold degenerate because the cosine function is even, $`\mathrm{cos}x=\mathrm{cos}(x)`$. The minimum of the potential is attained by $`q=0`$; at this point the parity transformation $`xx`$ does not lead to a 2–fold degeneracy. Since the kinetic term has been switched off we can assume, without loss of generality, that the vacuum $`|0`$ is the state $`|q_1`$. Then the pair of states $`|q_2`$ and $`|q_n`$ is degenerate, as are the pairs $`(|q_3,|q_{n1})`$, $`(|q_4,|q_{n2})`$, etc. Values $`n=2k+1`$ will lead to a complete pairing of all states, except the vacuum $`|q_1`$, into degenerate pairs $`(|q_l,|q_{nl+2})`$. Values $`n=2k`$ will lead to a similar pairing of degenerate states, with the exception of the vacuum $`|q_1`$ and $`|q_{k+1}`$, which respectively correspond to the minimum and maximum of $`\mathrm{cos}Q`$.

Once identified the vacuum $`|q_1`$ when the kinetic term is switched off, we switch it back on to obtain the full Hamiltonian (23). The latter suggests arranging the basis states $`|q_j`$ in the order

$$|q_n,|q_1,\mathrm{},|q_{n1}.$$
(28)
In this way, although the full Hamiltonian matrix (23) is $`n\times n`$, it contains a $`3\times 3`$ submatrix that accounts for the only nonzero matrix elements involving the state $`|q_1`$. With the ordering (28), this submatrix lies at the upper, left–hand corner of the matrix (23). Explicitly it reads

$$\left(\begin{array}{ccc}\mathrm{cos}q_n& \mathrm{i}/2& 0\\ \mathrm{i}/2& \mathrm{cos}q_1& \mathrm{i}/2\\ 0& \mathrm{i}/2& \mathrm{cos}q_2\end{array}\right),$$
(29)
with $`\mathrm{cos}q_n=\mathrm{cos}q_2`$. One can easily verify that the eigenvalues of (29) are nondegenerate; its minimum corresponds to a certain $`|\stackrel{~}{0}=a|q_n+b|q_1+c|q_2`$. For the vacuum of eqn. (23) we have $`|0=_{j=1}^nc_j|q_j`$ for some coefficients $`c_j`$, in general different from the above. However, a glance at $`H`$ in eqn. (23) convinces one that $`|\stackrel{~}{0}`$ tends to $`|0`$ as $`n`$ grows large, while at the same time remaining nondegenerate, for the following reasons.

The addition of the kinetic term $`\mathrm{cos}P`$ to the potential $`\mathrm{cos}Q`$ might, in principle, force the vacuum out of the 3–dimensional subspace of eqn. (29). However this is not the case. The characteristic polynomial $`s_n(E)`$ in eqns. (25), (26) almost factorises as $`s_n(E)=s_3(E)\times s_{n3}(E)`$, the latter being the characteristic polynomial obtained from eqn. (23) upon removal of its upper, left–hand corner (29), plus the boxes $`B`$, $`B^+`$ below and to its right, of sizes $`(n3)\times 3`$ and $`3\times (n3)`$ respectively. These boxes are everywhere zero, except for $`q_{n1}|B|q_n=\mathrm{i}/2=q_3|B|q_2`$ in $`B`$ and their complex conjugates in $`B^+`$. These 4 nonzero matrix elements prevent the factorisation $`s_n(E)=s_3(E)\times s_{n3}(E)`$ from being exact. However, their contribution to the characteristic polynomial becomes negligible as $`n`$ grows large, and the factorisation tends to be exact as $`n\mathrm{}`$. If $`E_0`$ is the vacuum energy of eqn. (29), i.e., a root of $`s_3(E)`$, factorisation ensures that $`E_0`$ is also a root of $`s_n(E)`$.

Now the vacuum might develop a degeneracy after the addition of $`\mathrm{cos}P`$, i.e., $`E_0`$ might become a multiple root of $`s_n(E)`$. However the kinetic term $`\mathrm{cos}P`$ acts uniformly on all states $`|q_j`$, regardless of the value of $`j`$. In the matrix (23), this kinetic term is responsible for a set of entries all equal to $`\mathrm{i}/2`$ above the diagonal, plus a set of entries all equal to $`\mathrm{i}/2`$ below the diagonal. This uniformity ensures that the extra energy contributed by the kinetic term spreads uniformly over all states, thus respecting their original hierarchy. In particular, the vacuum remains nondegenerate.

These arguments establish that, at least in the limit of large $`n`$, the vacuum of eqn. (23) is nondegenerate. This conclusion is easily seen to hold also when $`\beta 1`$, $`\delta 0`$.

### 3.5 Dualities

Next we would like to establish a correspondence between our previous results and the analysis of refs. . The vacuum state being nondegenerate, it spans a complex 1–dimensional linear space. Previous sections have determined this linear space on the particular coordinate chart $`\pi <q<\pi `$ on the circle $`S^1(q)`$, where $`q`$ makes reference to our use of coordinate representation in section 3.2. We can consider a set of transition functions (to be specified presently) so that, under smooth coordinate changes on $`S^1(q)`$, the vacuum becomes the fibrewise generator of a complex line bundle over the real manifold $`S^1(q)`$. This line bundle has a real 1–dimensional base and a real 2–dimensional fibre $`𝐂`$. We can manufacture a complex line bundle over the complex torus $`T^2=S^1(q)\times S^1(p)`$ if we endow the latter with the complex structure of previous sections and pick a set of holomorphic transition functions for the same fibre $`𝐂`$ that existed over $`S^1(q)`$. In this way the vacuum becomes the fibrewise generator of a complex line bundle over the complex torus.

Now given a complex manifold $`𝒞`$, the elements of its Picard group $`\mathrm{Pic}(𝒞)`$ are 1–to–1 with equivalence classes of holomorphic line bundles over $`𝒞`$. The Picard group $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(T^2)`$ of holomorphic line bundles with vanishing first Chern class is another torus, $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(T^2)=T^2`$. The full Picard group $`\mathrm{Pic}(T^2)`$ consists of an infinite number of copies of $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(T^2)`$, each copy being labelled by an integer $`l`$ and denoted $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(l)}(T^2)`$. Thus physically inequivalent vacua over $`T^2`$ are parametrised by a discrete variable $`l𝐙`$ and by a continuous variable $`\lambda T^2`$. Picking a class $`(l,\lambda )\mathrm{Pic}(T^2)`$ we determine an equivalence class $`N(l,\lambda ;T^2)`$ of holomorphic line bundles over $`T^2`$ whose fibrewise generator is the vacuum state $`|0(l,\lambda )`$. In particular, the choice of a class $`(l,\lambda )\mathrm{Pic}(T^2)`$ carries with it the specification of a set of holomorphic transition functions (which were left temporarily undetermined above).

The Picard class $`(l,\lambda )`$ of the vacuum state of section 3.4 equals $`(n,w)`$. Here we have identified the variable $`\lambda T^2`$ with the complex coordinate $`w=(\beta q+\delta )+\mathrm{i}p`$. We have also set $`l=n=\mathrm{dim}`$ equal to a positive Chern class; negative values of $`l`$ are identified, following ref. , with the dimension of the dual space $`^{}`$.

Therefore, the quantum dynamics of (20) contains all the elements of ref.  (concerning the different possible vacua) that are required to implement quantum–mechanical dualities. Hence the conclusions of ref.  apply to our case, which thus provides an explicit example of a quantum–mechanical model exhibiting dualities. In particular, any nonbiholomorphic coordinate transformation will be a duality transformation of the quantum theory. As an example, the transformation (9) is canonical for $`\beta =1`$ and any $`\delta (0,2\pi )`$, while it is nonholomorphic as different values of $`\delta `$ generically specify different complex structures. We conclude that the quantum theory is sensitive to a parameter that was irrelevant for the classical theory: varying $`\delta `$ we have distinct quantum–mechanical models corresponding to a given classical mechanics.

## 4 Further examples

Having analysed the torus in detail, we can now easily manufacture examples of higher–dimensional classical phase spaces that exhibit dualities. There are several possibilities. One could consider the quotient of a torus under some group action. Alternatively, one could consider the product of a torus with some other manifold or, more generally, the fibration of a torus over another base manifold. For brevity we will merely give a flavour of these possibilities, concentrating on the specific example of K3 manifolds.

A K3 manifold is a compact, complex surface with the Hodge number $`h^{1,0}=0`$ and a trivial canonical bundle . The Picard group $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(\mathrm{K3})`$ of holomorphic line bundles with vanishing first Chern class is trivial. The full $`\mathrm{Pic}(\mathrm{K3})`$ consists of an infinite number of copies of $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(\mathrm{K3})`$, each copy being labelled by an integer $`l`$ and denoted $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(l)}(\mathrm{K3})`$. So fixing a degree $`l𝐙`$ we have a unique equivalence class of holomorphic line bundles over K3, and we can certainly vary the vacuum. There is a 20–dimensional space of complex moduli $`(\mathrm{K3})`$. Although all K3 surfaces are real–diffeomorphic, there are different complex realisations of K3 : K3 as an orbifold of $`T^4`$, K3 as a complex surface within $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^3`$, and K3 as an elliptically–fibred manifold.

Take first a 4–dimensional torus $`T^4`$ parametrised by 2 complex coordinates $`z^k`$, $`k=1,2`$. Next consider the $`𝐙_2\times 𝐙_2`$ action on $`T^4`$ defined by $`z^kz^k`$. This action has 16 fixed points, so the quotient space $`T^4/(𝐙_2\times 𝐙_2)`$ is singular. Blowing up each one of these singularities with one copy of $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^1`$ we obtain the Kummer construction of K3. An arbitrary function on $`T^4=𝐂^2/(𝐙\times 𝐙)`$ can be expanded as a Fourier series in $`\mathrm{sin}q^k`$, $`\mathrm{cos}q^k`$, $`\mathrm{sin}p^k`$ and $`\mathrm{cos}p^k`$. On $`𝐂^2`$ with coordinates $`z^k=q^k+\mathrm{i}p^k`$, the $`𝐙_2\times 𝐙_2`$ involution reverses the signs of $`q^k`$ and $`p^k`$, and only even functions of the latter survive the quotient. Odd functions like $`\mathrm{sin}q^k`$ and $`\mathrm{sin}p^k`$, while allowed on $`T^4`$, would be projected out of K3. Therefore the Hamiltonian analysis performed previously, extended to 2 complex dimensions, also holds for the Kummer construction of K3, even if $`\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(K3)\mathrm{Pic}^{(0)}(T^2)`$. For every choice of a vacuum state on Kummer’s construction of K3, the previous discussion concerning the variation of the complex structure (while keeping the symplectic structure fixed) remains valid. This leads to dualities for the quantum mechanics defined on the Kummer model of K3.

Next consider, in homogeneous coordinates on $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^3`$, the Fermat quartic

$$(X)^4+(Y)^4+(Z)^4+(T)^4=0,$$
(30)
which defines an algebraic K3 surface. We can add 19 inequivalent quartic terms to the right–hand side of (30), thus giving us a 19–dimensional complex subspace of $`(\mathrm{K3})`$. Although there are no complex tori involved here, the restriction of the Kähler potential on $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^3`$ to the quartic defines a dynamics on K3. Thus the quantum–mechanical dualities discussed in ref.  for projective space also hold on those K3 surfaces given by Fermat quartics.

Finally, a certain family of K3 surfaces admit an elliptic fibration over $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^1`$. If the latter has the holomorphic coordinate $`w`$, and $`X,Y,Z`$ are projective coordiantes on $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^2`$, the Weierstrass parametrisation of the fibration is

$$Y^2Z=4X^3g_2(\mathrm{\Lambda }(w))XZ^2g_3(\mathrm{\Lambda }(w))Z^3,$$
(31)
where

$$g_2(\mathrm{\Lambda }(w))=60\underset{x\mathrm{\Lambda }(w)\{0\}}{}x^4,g_3(\mathrm{\Lambda }(w))=140\underset{x\mathrm{\Lambda }(w)\{0\}}{}x^6$$
(32)
and $`\mathrm{\Lambda }(w)`$ is the lattice defining the elliptic fibre; its complex structure varies holomorphically as a function of $`w`$. Over 24 points on the base $`\mathrm{𝐂𝐏}^1`$ the elliptic fibre degenerates. Away from those points, given that (locally) such K3’s always appear as the product of a torus times a sphere, we can always write down (locally) a dynamics whose Hamiltonian is the sum of two independent Hamiltonians: one for the torus and another one for the sphere as in ref. . The complex dimension of $`(\mathrm{K3})`$ is 18. In this way the dualities discussed on the torus extend to dualities on elliptically–fibred K3 surfaces.

## 5 Conclusions

Any function on $`T^2`$ can be expanded as a Fourier series in $`\mathrm{cos}p`$, $`\mathrm{sin}p`$, $`\mathrm{cos}q`$ and $`\mathrm{sin}q`$. In particular, any Hamiltonian function $`H`$ on the torus admits such an expansion. We have treated the case in which $`H=\mathrm{cos}p\mathrm{cos}(\beta q+\delta )`$; the free parameters $`\beta `$, $`\delta `$ determine a complex structure on $`T^2`$. We have exhibited the explicit dependence of the quantum theory on the choice of a complex structure. Although the classical mechanics described in section 2 is insensitive to the complex structure, the corresponding quantum mechanics is highly sensitive to it: the Hilbert space of states, the operators acting on it, the energy levels, the vacuum state, all depend crucially on the choice of a complex structure on classical phase space. Our quantisation being canonical, manifest analyticity (as, e.g., in coherent–state quantisation) is lost. The dependence of the quantum theory on the complex structure appears through its dependence on the parameters $`\beta `$, $`\delta `$.

We conclude that, in order to quantise a given classical mechanics, a knowledge of classical phase space (as a real manifold), plus the Lagrangian or the Hamiltonian function, does not suffice: we also need to pick a complex structure. We may then state that  quantisation is the choice of a complex structure on classical phase space. Any two nonbiholomorphic complex structures on classical phase space, even when clasically related by means of a canonical transformation, lead to physically different quantum–mechanical theories.

We have seen in section 2 that the dynamics (1) can be regarded as unifying several, apparently different, systems, such as sine–Gordon models and harmonic oscillators, both of which appear as different approximation regimes of our dynamics (1). This situation is very reminiscent of M–theory and the several string theories it unifies. All differences with M–theory notwithstanding, we may confidently state that, as suggested in ref. , the relativity of the notion of a quantum is not an exclusive phenomenon of fields, strings and branes: as shown here, it also exists within specific quantum–mechanical models.

Acknowledgements

It is a great pleasure to thank J. A. de Azcárraga for encouragement and support, and U. Bruzzo for technical discussions. This work has been partially supported by research grant BFM2002–03681 from Ministerio de Ciencia y Tecnología and EU FEDER funds.


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# Why humans die — an unsolved biological problem

thanks: Permanent address

## Abstract

Mortality is an instrument of natural selection. Evolutionary motivated theories imply its irreversibility and life history dependence. This is inconsistent with mortality data for protected populations. Accurate analysis yields mortality law, which is specific for their evolutionary unprecedented conditions, yet universal for species as evolutionary remote as humans and flies. The law is exact, instantaneous, reversible, stepwise, and allows for a rapid (within less than two years for humans) and significant mortality decrease at any (but very old) age.

Mortality is an instrument of natural selection. In the wild, competition for sparce resources is fierce, and only relatively few genetically fittest animals survive to their evolutionary “goal” - reproduction. Even human life expectancy at birth was around 40 - 45 years just a century ago (e.g., 38.64 years for males in 1876 Switzerland dat (2003)). Evolutionary motivated biological theories Charlesworth (1994) imply that during and beyond reproductive age mortality irreversibly increases and strongly depends on the life history. This disagrees with the demographic observation (see, e. g., Vaupel et al. (2003)) that mortality is highly plastic; that different mortalities in Eastern and Western Germanies converged few years after their unification; that Norwegian females born in 1900 at 57 years reversed to mortality they had 36 years younger (see later). Recent experiments Mair et al. (2003) prove that the life-prolonging effect of diet in fruit flies is independent of their past, starts immediately and is lost when the dieting stops. Thus, in agreement with theoretical predictions Ya. Azbel’ (1999), mortality in protected populations of species as remote as humans and flies has short memory, is reversible and little depends on life history. Such dominance of nurture over nature is inconsistent with any evolutionary mechanism of mortality. But then, protected populations are indeed evolutionary unprecedented. To unravel the biologically unanticipated mechanism of their mortality, note that similar situation triggered all breakthroughs in physics via analysis of experimental data, which disregarded common wisdom and preceded rather than followed any models. Luckily, accurate forecasts of human mortality, and the resulting age structure of the population, are important for economic, taxation, insurance, etc, etc, purposes. That is why quantitative studies of mortality were started Halley (1693) long before Darvin, in 1693, by the famous astronomer Halley (the discoverer of the Halley comet) and followed in 1760 by the great mathematician Euler. To better estimate and forecast mortality, demographers developed over 15 mortality approximations Coale et al. (1993). Total mortality depends on a multitude of unquantified factors which describe all kinds of relevant details about the population and its environment, from conception to the age of death: genotypes; life history; acquired components; age specific factors; even the month of death and the possibility of death being the late onset genetic decease Charlesworth (1994); Doblhammer and Vaupel (2001). Demographic approximations prove that in a given country all these factors with remarkable accuracy reduce to few parameters only. During the last century, mortality rate in Western Europe at 0, 10 and 40 years decreased correspondingly 50, 100, and 10 times. In contrast to such mortality decrease (primarily due to improving living conditions, medical ones included), the difference between mortality rates at the same age in the same calendar year is rarely more than twofold in different countries. However, demographers do not present universal mortality approximations. They are interested in the most accurate approximation of the most important and specific mortality rate in a given country or its part. To a physicist relative proximity of such approximations in different countries suggests Ya. Azbel’ (2002b) certain universality. Mortality in a population is uncontrollably heterogeneous (e.g., $`1891/1900`$ female infant mortality is almost twice higher in Stockholm than in the rural area sta (1993)), and changes with time. It affects different mortality characteristics in a different way. “Additive” variables, whose values in a heterogeneous population are the averages over its different groups of the same age, are invariant to any such averaging. The less heterogeneous the population and its living conditions are, the more accurate their mortality approximations are. I conjecture that a certain fraction of mortality (denote it as “canonic”) accurately yields the law, which is the same (universal) in any population where heterogeneity of additive mortality variables is restricted to accurately quantified universal limits. Such universality is sufficient to establish its law. Any heterogeneous population consists of several “restricted heterogeneity” groups. Its mortality reduces to the universal law and fractions of the population in each of the restricted heterogeneity groups. Mortality in different countries allows one to determine the universal law parameters, and to verify its predictions.

For males and females who died in a given country in a given calendar year demographic life tables list, in particular, “period” probabilities $`q(x)`$ (for survivors to $`x`$) and $`d(x)`$ (for live newborns) to die between the ages $`x`$ and $`(x+1)`$ \[note that $`d(0)=q(0)`$\]; the probability $`l(x)`$ to survive to $`x`$ for live newborns; the life expectancy $`e(x)`$ at $`x`$. The tables also present dat (2003) the data and procedure which allow one to calculate $`q(x)`$, $`d(x)`$, $`l(x)`$, $`e(x)`$ for human cohorts, which were born in a given calendar year.

Consider a heterogeneous population, consisting of the groups with the number $`N^G(x)`$ of survivors to $`x`$ in a group $`G`$. The total number of survivors $`N(x)`$ is the sum of $`N^G(x)`$ over all $`G`$. Thus, $`l(x)=N(x)/N(0)=c_G\mathrm{}^G(x)=\mathrm{}^G(x)`$ is the average of $`\mathrm{}^G(x)`$ over all groups, with $`c_G`$ and $`\mathrm{}^G(x)`$ being the ratio of the population and the survivability to $`x`$ in the group $`G`$. Similarly, $`d(x)=\mathrm{}(x)\mathrm{}(x+1)`$ reduces to its average over the groups of the same age. In contrast, $`q(x)=1\mathrm{}(x+1)/\mathrm{}(x)`$ reduces to $`q^G(y)`$ in the groups of all ages $`y`$ from 0 to $`x`$, since the probability $`\mathrm{}(x)`$ to survive to $`x`$ equals $`p(0)p(1)\mathrm{}p(x1)`$, where $`p(y)=1q(y)`$ is the probability to survive from $`y`$ to $`(y+1)`$. The most age specific additive variable is $`d(x)`$. (Naturally, it allows one to calculate all other mortality characteristics, e. g., $`q(x)`$). The most time specific one is $`d(0)=q(0)`$ – it depends on the time span less than 2 years (from conception to 1 year). Thus, the most specific relation between two additive variables is the relation between $`d(x)`$ and infant mortality $`q(0)`$. A universal restriction on the heterogeneity of $`q(0)`$ is $`q_j<q^G(0)<q_{j+1}`$, where $`q_j`$, $`q_{j+1}`$ determine the universal for all humans boundaries of the $`j`$-th interval. Universal law implies that the relation between canonic $`d(x)`$ and $`q(0)`$ in any universal interval is the same as the relation between their values in any of the restricted heterogeneity groups, i.e. that $`d(x)=f_x[q(0)]`$; $`d^G(x)=f_x[q^G(0)]`$, where $`f_x`$ is a universal function. (Here and further on $`d`$, $`q`$, etc denote canonic quantities). Since additive $`d(x)=d^G(x)`$, $`q(0)=q^G(0)`$, so $`f_x[q^G(0)]=f_x\left[q^G(0)\right]`$. According to a simple property of stochastic variables Ya. Azbel’ (2002b), if the average of a function is equal to the function of the average, then the function is linear. So,

$$d(x)=a_j(x)q(0)+b_j(x)\text{if}q_j<q(0)<q_{j+1},$$
(1)
where parameters $`a_j`$, $`b_j`$ for a given $`x`$ are universal constants. (Here and on I skip their argument $`x`$). When canonic infant mortality $`q(0)`$ reaches an interval boundary (1), it must homogenize to the boundary value. Since $`d(x)`$ at all ages reduce to infant mortality, they simultaneously reach the interval boundary and, together with $`q(0)`$, homogenize there. \[Two such “ultimate” boundaries are well known: $`q(x)=0`$ when nobody dies, and $`q(x)=1`$ when nobody survives at the age $`x`$\]. At different intervals linear relations are different. Thus, the universal law implies piecewise linear $`d(x)`$ vs $`q(0)`$ with simultaneous at all ages intersections. Any heterogeneous population is distributed at the universal intervals. Their occupation and Eq. (1) determine piecewise linear, but non-universal relation between $`d(x)`$ and $`d(0)=q(0)`$. At a given non-universal linear segment

$$d(x)=aq(0)+b$$
(2)
For a given $`x`$ non-universal $`a`$ and $`b`$ reduce to the universal law parameters and to the non-universal fractions of the population in each of its linear intervals. Heterogeneity of mortality in some groups in a given country may be sufficiently low to fit into a single universal interval. Then they yield the universal law and allow for a comprehensive study of canonic mortality. Suppose that a heterogeneous population is distributed at two, e.g., the 1-st and 2-nd, universal intervals with the concentrations $`c_1`$ and $`c_2=1c_1`$ correspondingly. Then $`q(0)=c_1q_1(0)+(1c_1)q_2(0)`$; $`d(x)=c_1d_1(x)+(1c_1)d_2(x)`$. Thus, by Eq. (1, 2), $`q_1(0)=\alpha _1q(0)`$, $`q_2(0)=\alpha _2q(0)`$, where $`c_1=(b_2b)/(b_2b_1)`$, and $`\alpha _1=(aa_2)/[c_1(a_1a_2)]`$; $`\alpha _2=(a_1a)/[(1c_1)(a_1a_2)]`$. The crossover to the next non-universal segment occurs when, e.g., $`q_1(0)`$ reaches the intersection $`q^U(0)=(b_2b_1)/(a_1a_2)`$ of the first and second universal segments. Then $`q_1(0)=q^U(0)`$ implies $`d^I(x)=a_1q^I(x)+b_1`$. (A subscript $`I`$ denotes an intersection). So, this non-universal intersection belongs to the first universal linear segment or its extension. Inversely, such universality is the criterion of the population distributed at two universal segments. The set of such “extended” universal segments yields the universal law, while its non-universal intersections determine the fractions of the populations at the universal intervals. A general case (when the population is distributed at more than two universal segments) is more complicated, but also reduces to the universal law and the population fractions at the segments.

To quantitatively verify the universal law, consider the number $`D(x)`$ of, e.g., Swiss female deaths at a given age $`x`$ in each calendar year from 1876 to 2001dat (2003). At 10 years $`D(10)`$ decreases (together with mortality) from 126 in 1876 to 1 in 2001. At 80 years $`D(80)`$ increases (together with the life expectancy) from $`231`$ to $`951`$. It depends on the size of the population, e.g. in 1999 Japan at 80 years it is $`13,061`$. Its stochastic error is $`1/D^{1/2}`$. If demographic fluctuations in mortality are consistent with this (minimal for a stochastic quantity) generic error for the same age, denote the corresponding mortality as “regular”. Otherwise, denote it as “irregular”. Remarkably, mortality is irregular only during, and few years after, major wars, epidemics, food and water contamination, etc., when its change within few years is not relatively small.

To verify and determine the universal law, I approximate regular empirical $`d(x)`$ vs $`d(0)`$ with the minimal number of linear segments which yields their statistical accuracy for each given age $`x`$. \[Figure 1

presents the examples of $`d(80)`$ vs. $`q(0)`$ for Japanese and French females.\] Demographic data demonstrate that all non-universal intersections in most developed countries fall on the universal straight lines (see examples in Fig. 2).

Thus, the population in each such country reduces to 2 restricted heterogeneity groups (which change at the non-universal intersections). Then non-universal intersections determine the universal law (see Fig. 2). The law may be refined by accounting for a (relatively small) contribution from more than two restricted heterogeneity groups.

Consider other implications and predictions of the universal law. The extrapolation of the Japanese piecewise linear dependence in Fig. 1 to $`q(0)=0`$ yields $`d(80)=0`$, i.e. zero mortality at (and presumably prior to) 80 years. Similarly, $`d(60)`$ and $`d(80)`$ in Fig. 2 universally $`0`$ when $`q(0)0`$. This is consistent with, e.g., the dependencies of the life expectancies $`e(0)`$ at birth and $`e(80)`$ at 80 years on the values of the same calendar year birth mortality $`q(0)`$ for Japanese and French females. If nobody dies until 80, then $`e(0)=80+e(80)`$. In fact, the extrapolated $`e(0)=93`$ years, $`e(80)=16`$. Thus, $`e(80)+80=96`$ years is just $`3\%`$ higher than $`e(0)`$. Vanishing mortality may have already been observed. In 2001 Switzerland less than 17 females died in any age group from 1 till 26 years, 43 died at 40 years. In Japan, where the population is 18 times larger, 50 girls died at 10 years in 1999 (cf. Fig. 3). Such values of a stochastic quantity are consistent with zero mortality in the lowest mortality groups.

The universal law reduces the period canonic mortality at any age to the infant mortality $`q(0)`$. So, together with $`q(0)`$, at any age regular mortality rate may be rapidly reduced and reversed to its value at a much younger age. This agrees with the mortality of Norwegian and Swedish female cohorts, born in 1900 and 1920 correspondingly (Fig. 3).

Both countries were neutral in the World Wars. In both infant mortality $`q(0)`$ is higher than mortality $`q(80)`$ at 80 years. In Sweden $`q(0)`$ decreases 63-fold to $`q(11)`$, then increases 2.3-fold to $`q(24)`$. Thereafter it decreases to the same value at 34 years as 23 years earlier, at 11, and only at 45 years reaches almost the same value as 30 years younger, at 15. In Norway $`q(0)`$ decreases 24.5-fold to $`q(9)`$, doubles at $`x=21`$, halves back to the minimal value at $`x=34`$, and then slowly changes, until at 57 years it restores the mortality it had at 21, i.e. 36 years younger Ya. Azbel’ (1996).

Rapid crossovers in mortality (see Fig. 1) expose several modes of the universal mechanism, which switch simultaneously for all ages (see Fig. 2). The changes amplify significant declines of old age mortality in the second half of the 20-th century Wilmoth et al. (2000), with its spectacular medical progress. Predicted homogenization of the mortality at the intersections was noticed for male and female mortality Ya. Azbel’ (1999).

The non-universal law determines the non-universal population fractions in different universal intervals for a given country, sex, and calendar year. The fractions depend on genetics, life history, mutation accumulation and other factors. The difference between the total mortality and its piecewise linear approximation may be partitioned into stochastic fluctuations (which yield the Gaussian distribution), singular “irregular fluctuations” (related to, e.g., 1918 flu pandemic and world wars), and systematic deviations (related to evolutionary mechanisms Charlesworth (1994); Ya. Azbel’ (1999) and all unaccounted for factors). Depending on age, from 3 till 95 years the latter contribute from $`2\%`$ to $`10\%`$ of the total mortality. The approach may be refined if one considers several additive parameters. Preliminary study suggests this little increases the accuracy.

Regular mortality also dominates in protected populations of flies. The relations between their additive mortality variables are also piecewise linear Ya. Azbel’ (1999). Thus, their mortality is also predominantly universal. The (properly scaled) law, which is universal for species as remote as humans and well protected populations of flies Ya. Azbel’ (1999) despite their different evolution, may be considered a conservation law in biology and evolution. One wonders how, why and when a law, which is specific for evolutionary unprecedented (protected) populations, could evolutionary emerge. It suggests a possibility of similar “evolutionary unmotivated” laws for other biological characteristics.

To summarize. Universal law of mortality specifies the groups whose infant mortality heterogeneity is restricted by the universal limits. In any population of any age, the law rapidly (on the scale of two years for humans) adjusts a dominant fraction of the total mortality to infant mortality and the fractions of the population in these groups. This implies that, in contrast to mortality in the wild, mortality in well protected populations is dominated by a genetically programmed intrinsic mechanism which provides its unprecedented rapid adaptation to current living conditions. The universal form and relatively high accuracy (mostly on the scale of mortality fluctuations) of the law make it a universal and biologically explicit demographic approximation of the total mortality. The law provides certain clues to its possible physiology and physical model.


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# References

Comment about the ”Newtonian limit of String-Dilaton Gravity” paper.

S.M.KOZYREV

Scientific center gravity wave studies ”Dulkyn”.

e-mail: Kozyrev@e-centr.ru

The objective of this brief comment is to point out several problems associated with the general framework underpinning this paper. For one, analyzing the static, spherically symmetric solution of scalar-tensor, vector-metric as well as string-dilaton theories one can find the following. When the energy-momentum tensor T=T$`{}_{}{}^{\mu }{}_{\mu }{}^{}`$ vanishes the solutions of field equations of these theories amongst the others equivalent to Schwarzachild solution in general relativity. Moreover, for Jordan, Brans Dicke scalar-tensor theory the Hawking theorem states that the Schwarzschild metric is the only spherically symmetric solution of the vacuum field equations. In this case no celestial-mechanical experiments to reveal a difference between gravity theories is not presented possible, since all Einsteins vacuum solution (Schwarzschild, Kerr, etc.) will satisfy these theories too.

On the other hand inside the mater gravitation is greatly distinguished from Einstein theory. Thus, in this case effects considered like the fifth force and the differences between relativistic theories should be experimentally tested in substance. This fact is matter of debate since in this point of view the dark matter problem may be explain by variations of mater properties inside the galaxies and galaxies clusters. For example, scalar field, inside the matter has characteristics like gravitation permeability of material similar electromagnetic permeability of material in Maxwell theories of electromagnetism. Consequence there is a significant difference in characteristics of galaxy models under similar boundary conditions for various relativity theories.

Standard literature on gravitation describes any modification of celestial mechanics due to relativistic theories is obtained by a perturbative expansion valid for weak and quasi-stationary fields, known as the post-Newtonian approximation. Solar-system experiments allowed one to map out fairly completely weak-field gravity at the first post-Newtonian approximation, i.e., to put stringent numerical constraints on a large class of possible deviations from general relativity at order 1/c2. Nordtvedt, Will and others  were led to provide rigorous underpinnings to the operational significance of various theories, especially in solar system context, developing the parameterized post Newtonian formalism as a theoretical standard for expressing the predictions of relativistic gravitational theories in terms which could be directly related to experimental observations. However, for the case of equivalences vacuum solutions we come to a conclusion that PPN parameters in empty space in these relativistic theories are similar. Moreover, post Newtonian parameters of the concrete gravitational theory under study will take different values in external and internal areas of material objects.

Howsoever, it will be outlined here that the Newtonian limit cannot reproduce all the solutions of the fully general relativistic theories. At the same time it is easily proven that solution of the field equations for spherically symmetric vacuum space around a point mass M for linearized field equations (18) and (20) reduces not only to (22)-(24) but:

$`h_{ik}={\displaystyle \frac{2G_NM}{c^2}}{\displaystyle \frac{x_ix_k}{r^3}},`$
$`h_{00}={\displaystyle \frac{2G_NM}{c^2}}{\displaystyle \frac{1}{r}},`$
$`\psi =0,`$
$`h_{i0}=h_{0i}=0,i=k=1,2,3`$
where r = $`\sqrt{x_1^2+x_2^2+x_3^2}.`$

This solution explicitly none depend on the parameters of gravity theory. That is the case for instance of the Einsteins , scalar-tensor, vector-metric theories too; spacetime of gravity theories in a weak field approximation is similar in regions devoid of matter, and test particles do not feel any distinctions of gravitational field. On the other hand for Schwarzschild metric the field equations dont reduces to the Poisson equation and in a presence of gravitational field Euclidean geometry incorrect even in the first approximation. Hence, for Einsteins, scalar-tensor, vector-metric as well as string-dilaton theories field equations not reproduces Newtonian gravity when the low energy regimen is consistently analyzed. However, weak field approximation of the gravitational theories inside the matter do not reproduce General Relativitys results but generalize those introducing corrections to the Newtonian potential which could have interesting physical consequences. One can find that the some theories give rise to terms capable of explaining the flat rotation curve of galaxies with using a certain equation of state or function of matter distributions even in weak field approximation. Using the hypothesis that the not gravitational fields are the dark matter in galaxies and solving the field equations for interior areas, we are able to reproduce the rotation curves profile of stars going around galaxies.


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# 1 Introduction

## 1 Introduction

A long-standing question in quantum mechanics is the following: If a measurement shows a quantum system to be in a state $`s`$, in what state was the system before the measurement was made? There are three widely recognized plausible answers to this question that characterize the main schools of thought:

1. The system was in the state $`s`$, but we were unable to determine that due to insufficient information.
2. The system was not in any particular state, and it was the act of measurement that forced it to choose a state in a quasi-random manner, respecting the probability distribution.
3. The question is irrelevant since we have no way of verifying what state the system was in prior to making the measurement.

Until now, it has been widely believed that this question cannot be resolved by experiment. However, recent developments in the area of quantum computing have shown that it is possible to perform certain transform operations on quantum systems without observing the state—without disturbing the wave function. In this article we describe a possible experiment using these operations that may finally enable us to elucidate this question. In addition to the philosophical issues, this experiment may actually help us design other similar ones that can be used to decipher the mysteries of quantum mechanics.

## 2 Technique employed

The operation that we propose to use is the so called “Conditional Phase Flip” (CPF), described below.

Given: A quantum system in some superposition of $`n`$ states $`s_1,s_2,\mathrm{},s_n`$, and a (possibly) unknown but fixed value $`e`$, which equals some $`s_i`$, $`1in`$.

Output: A quantum system that is in the same superposition as the input, with the exception that the phase of $`s_i`$ is rotated by $`\pi `$ (i.e., inverted, in some sense).

This operation is a specific instance of the more general technique of Conditional Phase Shift. The ability to accomplish CPFs has been demonstrated using amplitude resonance of atomic lattice center-of-mass motion probed phononically. Better, in terms of timescales, would be to accomplish the feat fully optically. Progress in this direction has also been documented. The remarkable feature of these types of manipulation is that they seem to be able to carry out a CPF without resorting to a classical observation. Our purpose here is not to review the technology of cooling and trapping ions for construction of quantum gates, but instead we assume the existence and reliability of such tools for use in experiments that allow fundamental studies of the nature of quantum mechanics.

Models employing this physical operation have been used to design quantum algorithms, most notably the quantum database searching algorithm of Grover . Grover combines the CPF with an “inversion about mean” operation, which can be achieved using the Walsh-Hadamard transform to increase the probability for the system to be found in a desired state, starting with a uniform distribution. Inversion about the mean is best understood as follows. Consider a quantum system in a superposition of $`n`$ states, $`s_1,s_2,\mathrm{}s_n`$, with amplitudes $`a_1,a_2,\mathrm{},a_n`$, respectively. Further, for any two states $`s_i`$ and $`s_j`$, $`1i,jn`$, $`s_i`$ and $`s_j`$ are either in phase or have a phase difference of $`\pi `$. The phase thus induces a partitioning of the states into two subsets. Without loss of consistency, we may assign a phase of $`0`$ to one set and a phase of $`\pi `$ to the other. Since $`e^{i0}=1`$ and $`e^{i\pi }=1`$, we can think of each $`s_i`$ as having a “signed” amplitude, $`+a_i`$ if the phase is $`0`$ and $`a_i`$ if the phase is $`\pi `$. These signed amplitudes can be represented by means of a histogram. Let $`\mu `$ denote the arithmetic mean of the signed amplitudes of all the $`n`$ states. An inversion about the mean operation causes the histogram to be reflected about the line $`y=\mu `$. To date, there does not appear to be any successful attempt implementing this algorithm in all its complexity, though other quantum algorithms (viz., Shor’s quantum factoring algorithm) have been tested using ion traps .

## 3 Designing the set up

In our proposed experiment, we use a simple quantum system consisting of 2 qubits. In the article by Cleve et. al.  a simple generalized framework for representing quantum algorithms is discussed. The two key components in this framework are the Half-Silvered Mirror (HSM) and the Conditional Phase Shifter (CPS). Suppose we wish to force our 2-qubit system into a desired state, say $`|11`$. Initially the system is in state $`|00`$, i.e., we have 2 qubits, each in the state $`|0`$.

Figure 1 shows how this set up will look for each of the two qubits. In the first stage we employ a HSM (one for each qubit) to obtain the superposition $`\frac{1}{2}(|00+|01+|10+|11)`$. Note that each HSM performs the transform

$`|0`$ $``$ $`{\displaystyle \frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}}\left(|0+|1\right)`$
$`|1`$ $``$ $`{\displaystyle \frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}}\left(|0|1\right).`$ (1)
Since we are in the initial state $`|00`$, we have the required result. The second stage employs a CPS that shifts the phase of $`|11`$ (which is our desired state) by $`\pi `$, to yield the superposition $`\frac{1}{2}(|00+|01+|10|11)`$.

The last three stages employ an HSM, a CFS and an HSM, respectively. The CFS in stage 4 shifts the phase of $`|00`$. These three steps are considered as a group, since their combined effect is to cause an inversion about the mean . The mean of the amplitudes of the four states at the end of stage 2 is 1/4. This means that the signed amplitude values of each state are reflected about the line $`y=\frac{1}{4}`$. A point $`(x,\frac{1}{2})`$ is reflected as $`(x,0)`$ and the point $`(x,\frac{1}{2})`$ is reflected as $`(x,1)`$.Therefore, the inversion about the mean causes the amplitudes of $`|00`$, $`|01`$ and $`|10`$ to drop to zero, leaving the system in the state $`|11`$. This process, as explained in , is achieved by 2 crossed paths for each qubit, one path representing a 0 and the other path representing a 1. The expected behavior of this system is as predicted by QED.

What we have described above is essentially a simple version of Grover’s quantum search algorithm, where we are “searching” for the pre-defined state $`|11`$. For our experiment, we modify the the set up as shown in figure 2.

In the new set up, after stage 2, we simply combine the two paths representing the state of each qubit into one, i.e., a simple additive superposition, instead of using the interference caused by the HSM. The result of this is a system in the exact same superposition, i.e., $`\frac{1}{2}(|00+|01+|10|11)`$, as we had earlier, except that each qubit is now traveling on a single path. We then employ the last three stages as described previously.

## 4 Expected results

The last three stages will cause an inversion about mean. Consider the two possible scenarios:

1. If the system were in any one of the four possible states, then the final state of the system will be of the form $`\frac{1}{2}(\pm |00\pm |01\pm |10\pm |11),`$ depending on the initial state. For instance, if the system were in state $`|00`$, the mean is $`\frac{1}{4}`$ and inversion about the mean implies reflection about the line $`y=\frac{1}{4}`$. This would assign the state $`|00`$ an amplitude of $`\frac{1}{2}`$ and the other states an amplitude of $`\frac{1}{2}`$. (The three other states will always end up with a phase opposite to that of the initial state.) In other words, the system at the end of the experiment, is equally likely to be in any one of the four states.

2. If, on the other hand, the system were in a superposition of the states (and that it is the act of measurement that forces the system into a state), the final state of the system has to be $`|11`$, as explained in the previous section.

## 5 Another possible approach

Another possible approach would be a set up described in Figure 3. In this case we employ only one qubit and do not have a separation stage. The first three stages are identical to what we had earlier, with the exception that there are no phase shifts employed on any of the paths. In the fourth stage, instead of separating the states, we allow the photon in the superposition $`\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\left(|0+|1\right)`$ to fall on the HSM. If the Copenhagen interpretation were to be followed, the $`|0`$ state results in a $`|0`$ state for the lower path with amplitude 1/2 and a $`|1`$ state for the upper path with amplitude 1/2, whereas the $`|1`$ state results in a $`|0`$ for the upper path and a $`|1`$ state for the lower path, again with amplitudes of 1/2. This leaves the lower path in the superposition $`\frac{1}{2}\left(|0|1\right)`$, and the upper path in the superposition $`\frac{1}{2}\left(|0+|1\right)`$. In the fifth stage we combine the paths once again in an additive manner as explained earlier. If the phase could be controlled, this would leave the system in the final state $`|0`$.

If, on the other hand, we assume that in stage three the system were either in state $`|0`$ or in state $`|1`$ (but not both simultaneously), this would imply that after stage four, the system is either in state $`\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\left(|0+|1\right)`$ or in state $`\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\left(|0|1\right)`$, respectively. In either case, a measurement would be equally likely to find the system in state $`|0`$ or in state $`|1`$. Such a measurement can be made after the fifth stage using a polaroid filter.

## 6 Discussion

The techniques described above enable us to affect quantum systems, which have different expected results, depending upon the nature of the systems’ state vector prior to measurement. Measuring the final state enables us to say something about the state in which the system existed prior to observation. If such experiments are shown to be feasible in practice, it would no longer be appropriate to retreat to an “agnostic” position, since we would have ways of knowing the state of a system prior to its direct measurement. Furthermore, these types of experiments have another potential benefit in terms of tapping additional power within quantum computers. It may be possible to generalize these ideas to develop other experiments that would get us closer to understanding the nature of quantum mechanical systems.


text:
# The broad O vi absorber at z = 3.02 toward CTQ 325Based on observations obtained at the VLT Kueyen telescope (ESO, Paranal, Chile), the ESO programme 69.A-0123.

## 1 Introduction

While performing a study of the high-resolution spectrum of the distant quasar CTQ 325 from the Calán-Tololo Survey (Maza et al. 1996), we experienced problems in the continuum placement and the subsequent analysis of the normalized data for the regions $`\lambda \lambda `$ = 4100-4200 Å, 4850-4950 Å and 6200-6280 Å. The original spectrum, shown in Fig. 1, exhibits bumps and shallow troughs in these regions which could hardly be expected from the QSO continuum itself. Can these irregularities be attributed to shallow broad absorption lines or are they artifacts resulting from inappropriate data reduction?

Calibration flux errors can be excluded in our case since these features are present in all three unnormalized spectra we have for this range of exposure time of 4100s each. The broad features are located in the middle of echelle orders, so they cannot be explained by a bad merging of the orders as well. The spectrum of other quasar CTQ 298 taken during the same set of observations with the UVES/VLT does not show any peculiarities in these spectral ranges. In a composite QSO spectrum (Telfer et al. 2002) there are no weak emission-line features which could mimic bumps and troughs in the Ly$`\alpha `$ forest similar to that observed in CTQ 325. Thus we conclude that the broad absorption features we see in CTQ 325 are real.

The identification of these lines is straightforward: if the broad absorption at $`\lambda `$ 6225-6230 Å is the unresolved doublet C iv $`\lambda \lambda 1548,1551`$ at $`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 3.021, then the absorptions at $`\lambda 4172`$, 4149, and 4888 Å are, respectively, O vi $`\lambda 1032`$, O vi $`\lambda 1038`$, and Ly$`\alpha `$ (the expected positions of N v $`\lambda \lambda 1238,1242`$ are blended with the blue wing of the damped Ly$`\alpha `$ at $`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 3.118).

Similar shallow (the central optical depth $`\tau _0<1`$) broad (FWHM $`>100`$ km s$`^1`$) absorption line systems can be found in other QSOs. For example, in the spectrum of PG 2302+029 ($`z_{\mathrm{em}}`$=1.052) a very broad (FWHM $`>3000`$ km s$`^1`$) absorption complex consisting of unresolved doublets of C iv, N v, and O vi (Ly$`\alpha `$ is undetectable) was found at a redshift $`0.695`$ that corresponds to the blueshifted ‘ejection’ velocity of $`56,000`$ km s$`^1`$(Jannuzi et al. 1996). A weak C iv trough with FWHM $`800`$ km s$`^1`$ at the blueshifted velocity $`4000`$ km s$`^1`$ ($`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 4.045) is present in the spectrum of FIRST 0747+2739 — a quasar with a redshift of 4.11 (Richards et al. 2002). Besides, in the published spectrum the shallow and broad absorption features at the expected positions of the Ly$`\alpha `$ and N v $`\lambda 1242`$ lines can be found as well (see Fig. 1 in Richards et al.). An absorption system at $`z=2.146`$ with broad and shallow C iv and N v doublets (FWHM $`>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}1000}`$ km s$`^1`$) and weak Ly$`\alpha `$ was identified in the spectrum of Tol 1038–2712 ($`z_{\mathrm{em}}`$= 2.331) which belongs to the famous ‘Tololo pair’ (e.g., Dinshaw & Impey 1996; Srianand & Petitjean 2001).

The interpretation of these shallow and broad systems is not unique. Highly ionized gas can reside inside the quasar host galaxy, be ejected from the galaxy, or trace the intergalactic medium (IGM). For instance, the absorber in PG 2302+029 is intrinsic since the comparison of spectra taken for this QSO in 1994 and 1998 revealed that ‘O vi and N v dramatically weakened to become unmeasurable’ (Sabra et al. 2003). On the other hand, the above mentioned Tololo absorber is probably an example of the intervening system (a putative supercluster or filament) since a damped Ly$`\alpha `$ system \[$`\mathrm{log}N`$(H i) $`19.7`$, from Srianand & Petitjean 2001\] at the same redshift $`z=2.14`$ is seen in the companion quasar Tol 1037–2704 ($`z_{\mathrm{em}}`$= 2.207) separated by $`4`$ Mpc from the line of sight toward Tol 1038–2712. In general, the interpretation of quasar absorption-line systems is not such straightforward and requires accounting for all available data.

In this paper, we present the quantitative analysis of the $`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 3.0212 system toward CTQ 325. Possible explanations of its nature are discussed in Sect. 4.

## 2 Observations

The quasar CTQ 325 ($`\alpha =13^\mathrm{h}42^\mathrm{m}58.9^\mathrm{s}`$, $`\delta =13^{}55^{}59.9^{\prime \prime }`$, J2000; $`m_B=18.3`$; Lopez et al. 2001) was observed with the VLT/UVES over the nights 16-18 March, 2002. The spectrum covers the range between 3750 and 9900 Å, with wavelength gaps between 5597–5677 Å and 7940–8077 Å. The resulting spectral resolution is between 6.3 and 6.8 km s$`^1`$ FWHM, and the S/N ratio per pixel $``$ 40-50 ($`\lambda \lambda `$ 3800-4700 Å) and S/N $`>50`$ ($`\lambda \lambda `$ 4700-6600 Å). The data reduction was performed using the ECHELLE context routines implemented in the ESO MIDAS package. The details of the reduction procedure is outlined in Molaro et al. (2000). The uncertainties in the continuum placement are not larger than 5% due to high S/N and high spectral resolution.

## 3 Analysis

Emission-line redshift. One of the noticeable features of the spectrum of CTQ 325 is that the blue side wing of the C iv emission line, which is not affected by numerous absorption lines, has a longer tale than the redward side (Fig. 1). This blue-side asymmetry is also seen in the profiles of Ly$`\alpha `$ and O vi, whereas the neutral oxygen line O i $`\lambda 1303.5`$ is symmetric, providing us with the accurate measurement of the emission redshift of the QSO, $`z_{\mathrm{em}}`$= $`3.21196\pm 0.00010`$ (2 $`\sigma `$).

From earlier studies (e.g., Gaskell 1982; Espey et al. 1989; Tytler & Fan 1992) it was found that the mean blueshift of Ly$`\alpha `$, C iv, and N v with respect to O i and Mg ii is about 600 km s$`^1`$. The same order of magnitude blueshift of $`570`$ km s$`^1`$ was measured in our case between the center of the O i line and the peaks of the Ly$`\alpha `$, C iv, and P v lines. This could indicate that the redshift of CTQ 325 is slightly higher than $`z_{\mathrm{em}}^{}=3.20`$ previously deduced from low-resolution data (FWHM = 5.2 Å) by Lopez et al. (2001).

The O vi absorber at $`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 3.0212. The analysis of the broad complex is illustrated in Fig. 2. We found that all lines can be well fitted by a simple Gaussian with the broadening $`b`$-parameter of $`412\pm 20`$ km s$`^1`$, and column densities $`N`$(H i) = $`(1.38\pm 0.07)\times 10^{14}`$ cm$`^2`$, $`N`$(C iv) = $`(1.37\pm 0.07)\times 10^{14}`$ cm$`^2`$, and $`N`$(O vi) = $`(6.2\pm 0.3)\times 10^{14}`$ cm$`^2`$. Since the shallow profiles of the Ly$`\alpha `$ and O vi lines are affected by the narrow forest lines, we included in the fitting procedure the whole regions marked in Fig. 2 by the bold horizontal lines. All three regions with the broad H i $`\lambda 1215`$, C iv $`\lambda \lambda 1548,1550`$, and O vi $`\lambda \lambda 1032,1038`$ were analyzed simultaneously. The corresponding equivalent widths are as follows (rest frame values): $`W_\lambda `$(H i1215) $`190`$ mÅ, $`W_\lambda `$(C iv1548+1550) $`210`$ mÅ, $`W_\lambda `$(O vi1032) $`190`$ mÅ, and $`W_\lambda `$(O vi1038) $`95`$ mÅ, and the central optical depths are $`\tau _0=0.25`$, 0.15, 0.31, and 0.15, respectively.

The estimated column density ratios $`N`$(C iv)/$`N`$(H i) $`1`$ and $`N`$(O vi)/$`N`$(H i) $`4.5`$ indicate that the gas is collisionally ionized and the kinetic temperature $`\mathrm{log}T>5`$ (see Figs. 1 and 2 in Levshakov et al. 2003a). If we assume that the metallicity pattern is solar, then according to Sutherland & Dopita (1993) the optimal value for the kinetic temperature is $`\mathrm{log}T=5.30`$. At this temperature we find the total column densities of hydrogen, carbon, and oxygen being $`N`$(H) $`4.3\times 10^{19}`$ cm$`^2`$, $`N`$(C) $`1.2\times 10^{16}`$ cm$`^2`$, and $`N`$(O) $`3.0\times 10^{16}`$ cm$`^2`$, i.e. the metal content in this absorber is slightly over solar, \[C/H\] $`0.05`$ and \[O/H\] $`0.15`$ 111 \[X/Y\] $``$ log (X/Y) – log (X/Y) . Throughout the text photospheric solar abundances for C and O are taken from Allende Prieto et al. (2001, 2002), and for Si from Holweger (2001). .

The narrow absorption lines beneath the broad Ly$`\alpha `$ in Fig. 2 at $`\mathrm{\Delta }v`$ –519, –365, –150, and 95 km s$`^1`$ are the Ly$`\alpha `$ lines which have corresponding Ly$`\beta `$ and higher order Lyman series lines up to Ly6. The strongest of these absorbers, that at $`\mathrm{\Delta }v150`$ km s$`^1`$, shows metal absorption in the Si iii $`\lambda 1206`$ and partially blended C iii $`\lambda 977`$ lines and line-free continuum at the expected positions of the C ii $`\lambda 1334`$, Si ii $`\lambda 1526`$, C iv $`\lambda 1548`$, and O vi $`\lambda 1032`$ lines (Fig. 3).

We have analyzed this metal system with the Monte Carlo Inversion (MCI) procedure (Levshakov et al. 2000, 2002a) with three different UV ionizing backgrounds: the power law $`J_\nu \nu ^{1.5}`$, the Mathews-Ferland spectrum (Mathews & Ferland 1987, hereafter MF), and the Haardt-Madau spectrum (Haardt & Madau 1996, hereafter HM). Since hydrogen lines in this system are saturated, we were able to estimate only the lower limit of $`N`$(H i) $`>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}2}\times 10^{16}`$ cm$`^2`$. Analyzing simultaneously all available metal lines (including those presented only as upper limits), we obtained the mean ionization parameter $`U_01.3\times 10^3`$, total hydrogen column density $`N`$(H) $`>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}10}^{18}`$ cm$`^2`$ and metal content \[C/H\] $`<1.0`$, \[Si/H\] $`<0.9`$ for the MF and $`\nu ^{1.5}`$ spectra, and $`U_02.4\times 10^3`$, $`N`$(H) $`>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}5}\times 10^{18}`$ cm$`^2`$ and \[C/H\] $`<1.5`$, \[Si/H\] $`<1.5`$ for the HM spectrum. The estimated column densities for particular ions are as follows: $`N`$(C ii) $`<6.0\times 10^{12}`$ cm$`^2`$, $`N`$(Si ii) $`<6.0\times 10^{11}`$ cm$`^2`$, $`N`$(Si iii) $`=(3.5\pm 0.4)\times 10^{12}`$ cm$`^2`$, $`N`$(C iii) $`3\times 10^{13}`$ cm$`^2`$ (uncertain because of blending), and $`N`$(C iv) $`<2.0\times 10^{12}`$ cm$`^2`$.

Taking the metagalactic value of the mean specific intensity at the hydrogen Lyman edge $`J_{912}`$($`z`$=3) $`=0.4\times 10^{21}`$ ergs cm-2 s-1 Hz-1 sr-1 from HM, we calculate the mean number density $`n_03.5\times 10^2`$ cm$`^3`$ and the linear size $`L>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}10}`$ pc (MF and $`\nu ^{1.5}`$), and $`n_010^2`$ cm$`^3`$, $`L>\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}150}`$ pc (HM). The mean kinetic temperature is estimated as $`(1.52)\times 10^4`$ K. From the non-detection of C ii and Si ii lines we can also deduce the upper limit of $`N`$(H i) $`<10^{18}`$ cm$`^2`$, since otherwise the self-shielding, important at $`N`$(H i) $`>3\times 10^{17}`$ cm$`^2`$, would shift the ionization state toward these low-ionization transitions. Thus, in any case the size of the absorber at $`\mathrm{\Delta }v=150`$ km s$`^1`$ is not larger than 1 kpc. The gas density will be substantially higher and the linear size smaller if the absorber is located close to the QSO where the intensity of the local ionizing background is enhanced by the direct QSO radiation.

Unfortunately, other narrow Ly$`\alpha `$-line absorbers have blends at the expected positions of metals which makes impossible any quantitative conclusions about their physics.

## 4 Discussion

Equipped with the results obtained in the previous section we can now consider the possible causes for the observed absorptions.

The narrow line system is probably physically connected with the shallow absorber since both the detected ions (Si iii and C iii) and the linear size ($`L100`$ pc) are very unusual for a ‘stand alone’ intervening system: most QSO absorbers exhibit C iv lines and have linear sizes of $`L10s`$ kpc. Thus what we observe is a metal-poor cool and photoionized cloud(s) embedded in hot collisionally ionized gas with solar metal content. Most plausible origin of this structure can provide the jet-cloud interaction – the phenomenon well known from the radio observations of active galactic nuclei (e.g., Carvalho & O’Dea 2002 and references therein). In this scenario, the shock (blast) wave driven by the QSO jet strikes an intervening cloud embedded in the interstellar medium. Model calculations and model experiments of shock-cloud interaction (Klein et al. 1994; Klein et al. 2003) show that this process leads to the cloud fragmentation and produces the velocity dispersion of $`0.1v_{\mathrm{blast}}`$. After fragmentation, the cloud material continues to be accelerated until it is approximately comoving with the surrounding gas in the jet. In addition, shock compresses the cloud gas which can enhance its cooling rate. It is to be noted that typical parameters of the AGN jets are: radius $`500`$ pc, length-to-radius ratio $`100:1`$, and expansion velocity $``$ 1000s km s$`^1`$ (Carvalho & O’Dea 2002).

Difference in metallicities between the collisionally ionized gas and gas in the narrow-line absorber can also be explained within the frame of the jet-cloud interaction. Namely, solar and oversolar metallicities are characteristic for the QSO circumnuclear gas (e.g., Hamann & Ferland 1999), whereas the metallicity of the ambient interstellar matter is much lower ($`Z<0.1Z_{}`$).

The profiles of the QSO emission lines Ly$`\alpha `$, C iv, and O vi are highly asymmetric indicating strong outflows. The shallow and broad absorber is blueshifted by $`14,000`$ km s$`^1`$ from the systemic velocity (defined by the center of the symmetric O i quasar emission line) and lies at the high ejection end of the asymmetric emission lines. Whether this is a chance coincidence or the absorber is indeed located very close to the QSO emission line region can be tested in monitoring this quasar over the course of a few years: variability of the absorption profiles would testify the internal origin. Sometimes the close location of the absorption system leads to incomplete coverage of the cental light source. This results in flat line profiles not going to zero intensities and/or in unexpected doublet ratios. None of these features is observed in the present absorption systems.

Another evidence of the high activity of CTQ 325 can be found from the distribution of metal absorbers along the line of sight (see Table 1). Thus, Fig. 4 shows that in the range $`3.0<z<\mathrm{\hspace{0.33em}3.1}`$ the number density $`dN/dz`$ exceeds essentially the mean value. However, this argument is not unambiguous since one cannot exclude the observed overdensity as being due to the clustering of the intervening absorbers (e.g., in Fig. 4, the region $`z>2.7`$ toward Q 1157+3143 was considered as a possible supercluster by Ganguly et al. 2001).

Although the jet-cloud origin is consistent with all recovered parameters of this broad-hot + narrow-cool absorption system, another interpretation — absorption by warm gas in the intervening large scale structure (LLS) object — is also possible (motivated mostly by the Tololo pair). In this case the collisionally ionized phase may be produced by shocks driven by the accretion of gas into the potential well. If typical size of a putative cluster is $`R1`$ Mpc, then the velocity dispersion of the warm gas component of $`400`$ km s$`^1`$ gives the total mass $`M_{\mathrm{cl}}2\times 10^{13}M_{}`$. High metallicity estimated for the collisionally ionized gas is in line with that usually measured in clusters of galaxies (e.g., Rosati et al. 2002). The presence of the compact cool absorbers may also be expected: the ionic composition of our narrow line absorber at $`v150`$ km s$`^1`$ is very much alike to that observed in a cloud in the Virgo supercluster, (see Fig. 2 in Tripp et al. 2002). The size of this cloud was estimated as 70 pc only. The existence of massive megaparsec-scale structures at high redshift (from $`z=2.16`$ up to $`z=4.10`$) has recently been confirmed by direct observations of distant (proto) clusters (Venemans et al. 2002, 2003).

## 5 Conclusions

We show that the shallow and broad C iv, O vi, and Ly$`\alpha `$ lines detected at $`z_{\mathrm{abs}}`$= 3.021 in the spectrum of CTQ 325 are produced by collisionally ionized gas. The narrow line absorber detected at the same redshift reveals the ionization state expected for a cool photoionized medium — strong saturated hydrogen lines, absorptions in C iii and Si iii, and no high ionization lines like C iv or O vi. Collisionally ionized gas has the near solar metallicity, whereas the metal content of the photoionized component is less than $`0.1Z_{}`$.

The observed multiphase structure can be well described in the framework of the jet-cloud interaction. However, the absorption by the shocked accreting gas in the intervening LSS object cannot be excluded. At the moment there are no unambiguous tests to select between these possibilities.

###### Acknowledgements.

The work of S.A.L. and I.I.A. is partly supported by the RFBR grant No. 03-02-17522.


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# Spectroscopic identification of DENIS-selected brown dwarf candidates in the Upper Scorpius OB association1footnote 11footnote 1Based on observations obtained with the ESO NTT telescope.

## 1 Introduction

The census of very low-mass (VLM) stars and brown dwarfs (BDs) is very incomplete, even in the immediate solar neighborhood, and in the nearest open clusters, star-forming regions and OB associations. Considerable progress has been achieved in the last few years, leading to the identification of hundreds of VLM stars and BDs and to the development of two new spectral classes, namely L and T, for ultracool dwarfs (Martín et al. 1997; Kirkpatrick et al. 1999; Jones & Steele 2001; Burgasser et al. 2002; Geballe et al. 2002). This huge observational effort has proved that VLM stars and BDs constitute a numerous population in the galactic disk. They are being incorporated in our current paradigm of star and planet formation (Boss 2002; Bate et al. 2002; Delgado-Donate et al. 2003; Kroupa et al. 2001, 2003; Sterzik & Durisen 2002) and stellar evolution (D’Antona & Mazzitelli 1994; Baraffe et al. 1998, 2002; Wuchterl & Tscharnuter 2003).

One of the most successful methods to identify VLM objects has been to obtain deep enough multicolor imaging of the classical young associations and clusters in the solar vicinity, and follow-up spectroscopy of the candidates that occupy the expected position of VLM members in the color-magnitude diagram. In the Pleiades open cluster, where the BD population is well studied, the success rate of imaging plus low-resolution spectroscopic characterization is about 90% (Mart´in et al. 1996, 2000; Moraux et al. 2001). In younger regions, the success rate could be even higher because it is easier to apply gravity sensitive spectroscopic indicators due to the lower surface gravity of younger VLM objects.

Upper Scorpius (hereafter USco for brevity) is the youngest subgroup (age$``$5 Myr, de Geus et al. 1989) of the nearest OB association (Scorpius-Centaurus). The average distance to the association is 145 pc, but there is a large scatter in the Hipparcos parallaxes of individual members (de Geus et al. 1989). The low-mass stellar population of USco has been studied by Walter et al. (1994), Martín (1998), and Preibisch et al. (1998, 2001). The VLM population was first revealed by Ardila et al. (2000).

In this paper we present the spectroscopic characterization of 36 new candidate VLM members in the USco association. 3 of our targets (cross identifications are given in Table 1) were already found by Ardila et al. (2000). One of them, namely DENIS161007.5-181056.4, was already included in the survey of Preibisch et al. (2001). Our candidates were identified in the database of the DEep Near-Infrared Survey (DENIS) using $`I`$, $`J`$ and $`K`$ photometry (Epchtein et al. 1994). DENIS has already been mined to identify nearby field VLM stars and BDs (Delfosse et al. 1997, 1999; PhanBao et al. 2001, 2003). A preliminary report of the results of this survey can be found in Delfosse et al. (2003). A paper dedicated to the BD initial mass function (IMF) in a rich star formation region -such as an OB association- and the distribution of VLM USco members, will be forthcoming (Delfosse et al. in prep). The comparison of the BD IMF for star formation regions with different densities (from OB associations to T Tauri associations) will be a stepping stone to understand BD formation. The present paper is focused on the spectroscopic follow up and identification of the DENIS BD candidates in the USco association.

In section 2, we present the observations and data reductions. Section 3 deals with the spectroscopic measurements and data analysis. In section 4 we assess the membership of the candidates in USco. Section 5 consists of a discussion of the properties of the objects.

## 2 Sample selection, observations and data reduction

Our sample of 40 VLM candidate members in USco was selected from the DENIS database. The DENIS 100% completeness limit is I=18.0, which for the NextGen models (Baraffe et al. 1998) translates into a 20 MJup brown dwarfs at the age ($``$ 5Myr) and average distance ($``$ 145pc) of the association. Our search was made in 60 square degrees of the association, centered at the galactic coordinate $`l=347^o`$, $`b=25^o`$. The already known members of the association are mainly located in a band 2 mag higher than the main-sequence in the H-R diagram. Preibisch et al. (2001) find that only $``$10% of USco stars are outside such band. In Figure 1 we show the color-magnitude diagram for our DENIS survey in USco. The NextGen 5Myr theoreticaly isochrones for distances of 120 pc and 200 pc mark the band of expected location for the association members. Our search is focused on the red part of this band. After artifact rejection, 104 objects were retained as candidate with color redder than $`IJ=2.3`$. Nine of them were already detected by Ardila et al. (2000), and one was reported by Preibisch et al. (2001), all the other are new.

The candidates of Ardila et al. (2000) detected in the 60 square degrees of our DENIS survey are marked in Figure 1. 15% of them are outside the band. Our search is not complete because it lacks over-luminous or sub-luminous members (e.g. binary or obscured objects), but we are available to detect 80-90% of Ardila’s candidate members. We refer the reader to Delfosse et al. (in preparation) for a detailed analysis, dedicated to determine luminosity and mass functions of the brown dwarf sequence in the association.

Optical spectroscopy was obtained for 40 objects out of our 104 candidates. The spectroscopic target list is constituted by the redder candidates (all except two for $`IJ>3.0`$) and by candidate regularly spaced out on the rest of the sequence to estimate the association membership fractions of our candidates in function of their localization in the color-magnitude diagram. The spectroscopic observations were obtained in service mode at the ESO NTT telescope using the EMMI spectrograph on the nights of 13-16 June 2002 and 7-8 August 2002. Exposure times for each target are given in Table 1. The CCD frames were trimmed, dark subtracted, and flat fielded before extracting one dimensional spectra. The spectra were wavelength calibrated using an arc lamp spectrum, and flux calibrated using a standard star spectrum. All reduction operations were carried out in the IRAF environment. The wavelength coverage was 576.1–1,051.1 nm at a dispersion of 0.177 nm/pix and a resolving power of R=900. In Figure 2 we display a representative subset of our final spectra. The main spectral features have been identified following Kirkpatrick et al. (1991) and Martín et al. (1996).

## 3 Analysis

In Table 2 we provide the measurements obtained from the spectra of our targets. We have measured W(H$`\alpha `$) and W(NaI) at 818.3 and 919.0 nm using the IRAF task splot. The pseudocontinuum was placed by visual inspection of the spectra. The measurement errors are dominated by uncertainties in the location of the pseudocontinuum. Spectroscopic indices of the strength of TiO and VO bands, and the slope of the pseudocontinuum (PC3), were also evaluated using the definitions in Martín et al. (1999). We used the PC3-spectral type calibration provided by these authors to obtain spectral types for our objects. We checked that the TiO and VO values were consistent with the spectral type determined from the PC3 index. We do not find evidence for any significant reddening in our sample. We estimate that Av$`<`$1 for most of our objects. Ardila et al. (2000) found only two objects with Av$`>`$1 among 23 VLM USco candidates. Our dataset is not as sensitive to reddening as that of Ardila et al. because we lack the $`RI`$ color.

### 3.1 Cluster membership assessment

We assess the membership of the candidates in USco on the basis of their location in the magnitude-spectral type and W(NaI)-spectral type diagrams.

In Figure 3 we plot our targets in a spectral type - magnitude diagram. Note that six objects are located outside the cluster sequence. They have spectral types that are too early for their $`I`$ magnitude. We consider them as likely non-members. Five of them do not present H$`\alpha `$ in emission. They are probably background red giants. We discard them from further analysis because they are not interesting for the purposes of this paper.

The NaI doublet at 818.3 and 819.5 nm is a well known gravity indicator for late-M spectral types (Kirkpartrick et al. 1991; Martín et al. 1996; Briceño et al. 1998). It becomes weaker for decreasing surface gravity. In Figure 4 we plot our W(NaI) values versus spectral type and we compare with the field dwarfs measured by Martín et al. (1996). VLM USco candidates that W(NaI) similar to those of field dwarfs are considered likely foreground cool dwarfs. The USco members are expected to be young, and hence they should have larger radius, lower surface gravity and weaker W(NaI) than their field counterparts of the same spectral type. The USco candidates with W(NaI) weaker than the field objects are retained as likely cluster members.

H$`\alpha `$ emission is normally seen among young VLM stars and BDs. It can originate from chromospheric activity or from disk accretion onto the central object. We expect that the young USco VLM members have H$`\alpha `$ emission because they are chromospherically active and may still have some leftover accretion activity. We do not use H$`\alpha `$ emission as a membership criterion, but we note that all the 28 likely members listed in Table 2 clearly have H$`\alpha `$ in emission.

### 3.2 Mass accretion

In order to identify classical T Tauri stars and substellar analogs using only low-resolution optical spectroscopy, Barrado y Navascués & Martín (2003) have proposed a W(H$`\alpha `$) boundary line that depends on the spectral type, and it is based on the chromospheric saturation limit at Log {L(H$`\alpha `$)/L(bol)}=$``$3.3, observed in young open clusters. Objects with W(H$`\alpha `$) larger than the boundary are likely accretors. In Figure 5 we display the W(H$`\alpha `$) of our USco objects as a function of spectral type. We also show the Barrado y Navascués & Martín boundary line. Six objects from our sample, and one from Ardila et al.’s sample, are located above the line. Hence, they are likely accretors. Five of the accretors have spectral types later than M6, so they are probably substellar444 The customary spectral type boundary between stars and BDs for ages younger than about 120 Myr is at M6 (Martín et al. 1996; Luhman et al. 1998..

Barrado y Navascués & Martín (2003) have combined our results with the literature to estimate a frequency of accretors of 14.4$`\pm `$5.7% for the spectral type range K3-M5.5, while for the spectral type range M5.5-M9 the frequency is 16.3$`\pm `$6.2% . Hence, there is no evidence for a strong dependence of the number of accreting objects with primary mass in the USco low-mass population. Other studies based on infrared color excesses have reached similar conclusions (Haisch et al. 2001; Muench et al. 2001; Natta et al. 2002; Jayawardhana et al. 2003; Liu et al. 2003). Our sample of USco likely substellar accretors deserves further follow-up observations to determine their spectral energy distribution and mass accretion rates.

## 4 Discussion

In this paper we have presented new evidence for a numerous VLM population in the USco OB association. We refer the reader to Delfosse et al. (in preparation) for a discussion of the VLM luminosity and mass functions in USco.

We have identified 28 objects with spectral types in the range M5.5-M9 as likely VLM members on the basis of their spectroscopic characteristics. They are located in the cluster sequence in the magnitude-spectral type diagram, they have relatively weak NaI lines, and they show H$`\alpha `$ in emission. Five of them meet the Barrado y Navascués & Martín criterion for substellar classical T Tauri analogs. Since these accreting BDs are likely members of the OB association, their age is 5 Myr, implying that accretion onto BDs can last a significant amount of time.

Together with the VLM candidates presented by Ardila et al. (2000), and the follow-up spectroscopic observations of 12 of them (none of which overlap with our sample) by Mohanty et al. (2003), our study brings the number of spectroscopically identified USco VLM candidate members to 40. The membership of the objects needs to be confirmed with follow-up studies of proper motion and radial velocities. This is now a significant sample for systematic studies of the properties of young VLM objects, such as accretion, binarity and rotation. Due to its relative proximity, young age, and richness, USco is one of the most important regions for studies of substellar-mass formation and evolution. To compare the IMF in such a rich star formation region with the one of less dense regions (as the T Tauri associations) will be very useful to constrain the sensitivity of BD formation to environmental conditions.

EM thanks the staff of the LAOG for their hospitality during his visit. We thank Jana Pittichova for helping with data reduction and Herve Bouy for useful comments about some of the targets. Partial funding was provided by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) grant NAG5-9992 and National Science Foundation (NSF) grant AST-0205862.