Technische Universität Wien

Researchers have succeeded in directing floating objects around an aquatic obstacle course using only soundwaves. Their novel, optics-inspired method holds great promise for biomedical applications such as noninvasive targeted drug delivery. In 2018, Arthur Ashkin won the Nobel Prize in Physics for inventing optical tweezers: laser beams that can be used to manipulate microscopic particles. While useful for many biological applications, optical tweezers require extremely controlled, static conditions to work properly. "Optical tweezers work by creating a light 'hotspot' to trap particles, like a ball falling into a hole. But if there are other objects in the vicinity, this hole is difficult to create and move around," says Romain Fleury, head of the Laboratory of Wave Engineering in EPFL's School of Engineering. Fleury and postdoctoral researchers Bakhtiyar Orazbayev and Matthieu Malléjac have spent the last four years trying to move objects in uncontrolled, dynamic environments using soundwaves. In fact, the team's method -- wave momentum shaping -- is entirely indifferent to an object's environment or even its physical properties. All the information that's required is the object's position, and the soundwaves do the rest. "In our experiments, instead of trapping objects, we gently pushed them around, as you might guide a puck with a hockey stick," Fleury explains. The unconventional method, funded by the Swiss National Science Foundation (SNSF) Spark program, has been published in Nature Physics in collaboration with researchers from the University of Bordeaux in France, Nazarbayev University in Kazakhstan, and the Vienna University of Technology in Austria. Very simple, very promising If soundwaves are the hockey stick in Fleury's analogy, then a floating object like a ping-pong ball is the puck. In the lab's experiments, the ball was floating on the surface of a large tank of water, and its position was captured by an overhead camera. Audible soundwaves emitted from a speaker array at either end of the tank directed the ball along a pre-determined path, while a second array of microphones 'listened' to the feedback, called a scattering matrix, as it bounced off of the moving ball. This scattering matrix, combined with the camera's positional data, allowed the researchers to calculate in real time the optimal momentum of the soundwaves as they nudged the ball along its path. "The method is rooted in momentum conservation, which makes it extremely simple and general, and that's why it's so promising," Fleury says. He adds that wave momentum shaping is inspired by the optical technique of wavefront shaping, which is used to focus scattered light, but this is the first application of the concept to moving an object. What's more, the team's method is not limited to moving spherical objects along a path: they also used it to control rotations, and to move more complex floaters like an origami lotus. Mimicking conditions inside the body Once the scientists succeeded in guiding a ping-pong ball, they performed additional experiments with both stationary and moving obstacles designed to add inhomogeneity to the system. Successfully navigating the ball around these scattering objects demonstrated that wave momentum shaping could perform well even in dynamic, uncontrolled environments like a human body. Fleury adds that sound is a particularly promising tool for biomedical applications, as it is harmless and noninvasive. "Some drug delivery methods already use soundwaves to release encapsulated drugs, so this technique is especially attractive for pushing a drug directly toward tumor cells, for example." The method could also be a game-changer for biological analysis or tissue engineering applications where manipulating cells by touching them would cause damage or contamination. Fleury also sees 3D printing applications for wave momentum shaping, for example to arrange microscopic particles before solidifying them into an object. Ultimately, the researchers believe their method could also work using light, but their next goal is to take their sound-based experiments from the macro- to micro-scale. They have already received SNSF funding to do experiments under a microscope, using ultrasonic waves to move cells around.

Experiments have provided the first direct evidence that electricity seems to flow through 'strange metals' in an unusual liquid-like form. True to form, a "strange metal" quantum material proved strangely quiet in recent quantum noise experiments at Rice University. Published this week in Science, the measurements of quantum charge fluctuations known as "shot noise" provide the first direct evidence that electricity seems to flow through strange metals in an unusual liquidlike form that cannot be readily explained in terms of quantized packets of charge known as quasiparticles. "The noise is greatly suppressed compared to ordinary wires," said Rice's Douglas Natelson, the study's corresponding author. "Maybe this is evidence that quasiparticles are not well-defined things or that they're just not there and charge moves in more complicated ways. We have to find the right vocabulary to talk about how charge can move collectively." The experiments were performed on nanoscale wires of a quantum critical material with a precise 1-2-2 ratio of ytterbium, rhodium and silicon (YbRh2Si2), which has been studied in great depth during the past two decades by Silke Paschen, a solid-state physicist at the Vienna University of Technology (TU Wien). The material contains a high degree of quantum entanglement that produces a very unusual ("strange") temperature-dependent behavior that is very different from the one in normal metals such as silver or gold. In such normal metals, each quasiparticle, or discrete unit, of charge is the product of incalculable tiny interactions between countless electrons. First put forward 67 years ago, the quasiparticle is a concept physicists use to represent the combined effect of those interactions as a single quantum object for the purposes of quantum mechanical calculations. Some prior theoretical studies have suggested that the charge in a strange metal might not be carried by such quasiparticles, and shot noise experiments allowed Natelson, study lead author Liyang Chen, a former student in Natelson's lab, and other Rice and TU Wien co-authors to gather the first direct empirical evidence to test the idea. "The shot noise measurement is basically a way of seeing how granular the charge is as it goes through something," Natelson said. "The idea is that if I'm driving a current, it consists of a bunch of discrete charge carriers. Those arrive at an average rate, but sometimes they happen to be closer together in time, and sometimes they're farther apart." Applying the technique in YbRh2Si2 crystals presented significant technical challenges. Shot noise experiments cannot be performed on single macroscopic crystals but, rather, require samples of nanoscopic dimensions. Thus, the growth of extremely thin but nevertheless perfectly crystalline films had to be achieved, something that Paschen, Maxwell Andrews and their collaborators at TU Wien managed after almost a decade of hard work. Next, Chen had to find a way to maintain that level of perfection while fashioning wires from these thin films that were about 5,000 times narrower than a human hair. Rice co-author Qimiao Si, the lead theorist on the study and the Harry C. and Olga K. Wiess Professor of Physics and Astronomy, said he, Natelson and Paschen first discussed the idea for the experiments while Paschen was a visiting scholar at Rice in 2016. Si said the results are consistent with a theory of quantum criticality he published in 2001 that he has continued to explore in a nearly two-decade collaboration with Paschen. "The low shot noise brought about fresh new insights into how the charge-current carriers entwine with the other agents of the quantum criticality that underlies the strange metallicity," said Si, whose group performed calculations that ruled out the quasiparticle picture. "In this theory of quantum criticality, the electrons are pushed to the verge of localization, and the quasiparticles are lost everywhere on the Fermi surface." Natelson said the larger question is whether similar behavior might arise in any or all of the dozens of other compounds that exhibit strange metal behavior. "Sometimes you kind of feel like nature is telling you something," Natelson said. "This 'strange metallicity' shows up in many different physical systems, despite the fact that the microscopic, underlying physics is very different. In copper-oxide superconductors, for example, the microscopic physics is very, very different than in the heavy-fermion system we're looking at. They all seem to have this linear-in-temperature resistivity that's characteristic of strange metals, and you have to wonder is there something generic going on that is independent of whatever the microscopic building blocks are inside them." The research was supported by the Department of Energy's Basic Energy Sciences program (DE-FG02-06ER46337), the National Science Foundation (1704264, 2220603), the European Research Council (101055088), the Austrian Science Fund (FWF I4047, FWF SFB F 86), the Austrian Research Promotion Agency (FFG 2156529, FFG 883941), the European Union's Horizon 2020 program (824109-EMP), the Air Force Office of Scientific Research (FA8665-22-1-7170), the Welch Foundation (C-1411) and the Vannevar Bush Faculty Fellowship (ONR-VB-N00014-23-1-2870).

Quantum physicists show that imperfect timekeeping places a fundamental limit to quantum computers and their applications. The team claims that even tiny timing errors add up to place a significant impact on any large-scale algorithm, posing another problem that must eventually be solved if quantum computers are to fulfill the lofty aspirations that society has for them. New research from a consortium of quantum physicists, led by Trinity College Dublin's Dr Mark Mitchison, shows that imperfect timekeeping places a fundamental limit to quantum computers and their applications. The team claims that even tiny timing errors add up to place a significant impact on any large-scale algorithm, posing another problem that must eventually be solved if quantum computers are to fulfil the lofty aspirations that society has for them. It is difficult to imagine modern life without clocks to help organise our daily schedules; with a digital clock in every person's smartphone or watch, we take precise timekeeping for granted -- although that doesn't stop people from being late! And for quantum computers, precise timing is even more essential, as they exploit the bizarre behaviour of tiny particles -- such as atoms, electrons, and photons -- to process information. While this technology is still at an early stage, it promises to dramatically speed up the solution of important problems, like the discovery of new pharmaceuticals or materials. This potential has driven significant investment across the private and public sector, such as the establishment of the Trinity Quantum Alliance academic-industrial partnership launched earlier this year. Currently, however, quantum computers are still too small to be useful. A major challenge to scaling them up is the extreme fragility of the quantum states that are used to encode information. In the macroscopic world, this is not a problem. For example, you can add numbers perfectly using an abacus, in which wooden beads are pushed back and forth to represent arithmetic operations. The wooden beads have very stable states: each one sits in a specific place and it will stay in place unless intentionally moved. Importantly, whether you move the bead quickly or slowly does not affect the result. But in quantum physics, it is more complicated. "Mathematically speaking, changing a quantum state in a quantum computer corresponds to a rotation in an abstract high-dimensional space," says Jake Xuereb from the Atomic Institute at the Vienna University of Technology, the first author of the paper. "In order to achieve the desired state in the end, the rotation must be applied for a very specific period of time -- otherwise you turn the state either too little or too far." Given that real clocks are never perfect, the team investigated the impact of imperfect timing on quantum algorithms. "A quantum algorithm is like an app that runs on a quantum computer," explains Trinity's Dr Mitchison. "It was already known that timing errors could disrupt individual quantum logic gates, which are the building blocks of quantum algorithms. Our work extends this to full quantum algorithms, showing exactly how precise the clock must be to achieve a given computational accuracy." Since the error gets worse for more complex algorithms, it will ultimately pose a challenge for quantum computers. "It's not a problem at the moment," clarifies Prof. Marcus Huber who leads the research team in Vienna. "Currently, the accuracy of quantum computers is still limited by other factors, for example the precision of the hardware components or the effect of stray electromagnetic fields. But our calculations also show that today we are not far from the regime in which the fundamental limits of time measurement will play the decisive role." The team is quick to emphasise that the message is not entirely pessimistic, because the problem could be mitigated in the future by designing clever error correction protocols. The ASPECTS consortium is funded by the European Union's Quantum Flagship, while Dr Mitchison is supported by a Royal Society-Science Foundation Ireland University Research Fellowship.