Star Trek used wormholes to jump through space – what’s the science behind them? - The Conversation

An artist's impression of two black holes colliding. Interacting wormholes could produce a similar gravitational wave signature. (Mark Garlick/Science Photo Library RF/Getty Images) Like the surface of an ocean, the fabric of the Universe is constantly rippling with an infinitude of gravitational waves, propagating outward across the cosmos. We can count, in triple digits, the number of these ripples we've detected to date – and most of them have been linked to collisions between black holes, the densest objects in the Universe. But how do we know that every collision attributed to black holes is what it looks like? And what of the gravitational wave signatures we are yet to detect? What if there's something else out there that can make the Universe sing? What if colliding wormholes can make a similar splash – and how would we recognize it when we find it? For one particular kind of wormhole, at least, new simulations suggest collisions would be profoundly strange – and could leave distinctive signatures in the fabric of spacetime. According to a preprint authored by physicist Nikita M.

Archaeologists working at an ancient burial complex in Peru have uncovered remarkable evidence of hairless dogs that lived more than 1,200 years ago, long before the rise of the Inca Empire. The discoveries include naturally mummified remains, unusual skeletal features, and clues about what the animals ate and how they were treated by the people around them. Peruvian hairless dogs are a distinctive Indigenous breed known for their slender bodies, pointed ears, and lack of fur. They frequently appear in pottery created by ancient societies along the Andean coast. Today, a variation of the breed is recognized by the American Kennel Club as the Peruvian Inca Orchid. The dogs are also an important national symbol, having been officially designated part of Peru's cultural heritage in 2000.

Our early Earth was a heavy metal album cover: a molten ball covered in a global lava ocean, spewing lethal gases while being pelted by the flaming space-rocks of our Solar System's violently chaotic afterbirth. Over the next 4.5 billion years of hectic cosmo-geological time, it has settled down a bit, allowing humans, lemurs, and others to emerge. A vision of this hellish ancient reality remains, (hopefully) never to be glimpsed by human eyes: our molten metallic core, blazing about as hotly as the surface of the Sun. But our core constantly sends chemical messengers up through its layers, including the space-borne ingredients of its birth, locked away for about one-third the lifetime of the Universe. This includes the hydrogen that was drawn in from the giant cloud of gas and dust that formed the Sun, which continues to ooze up from the core and turns into water in the mantle and crust – not a splashy-sloshy water, but a water trapped in minerals. Early Earth may have looked something like this.

Japanese scientists are readying a mission to Mars's moons to retrieve samples that could help unlock the origins of the Solar System and life on Earth, in what aims to