Senior Physics Major Becomes an Antarctic Ice Quake Detective

When senior physics major Zoe Schlossnagle arrived at the University of Maryland in fall 2021, she never could have imagined the opportunities she would seize.

“I was sure that I was going to receive a vigorous physics education, of course,” Schlossnagle said. “But I also ended up with these amazing, wildly different experiences that use my physics background in a way that goes beyond most normal classroom settings.”

Schlossnagle lugged around a sledgehammer to conduct ground tests on land degradation near the Anacostia River, trekked through the oppressive California summer heat—with highs of 115 degrees Fahrenheit—to examine mysterious landforms, and studied precursor solar flares from deep in space.

But her most recent research project truly captured her imagination: analyzing seismic activity in the ice sheets of Antarctica, one of the most remote places on Earth.

“I study Antarctic ice quakes, which are seismic events similar to earthquakes that happen in the ice,” Schlossnagle explained. “Those giant glaciers and ice shelves are usually pretty mysterious because we usually can’t physically see or access them in their entirety. Ice quakes let us ‘see’ their internal structure and dynamics. Studying them is crucial because ice instability can lead to sea-level rise, irreversible ice sheet collapse and the destruction of coastal communities and ecosystems.”

Zoe Schlossnagle presenting moment tensor research at American Geophysical Union, Dec 2024.Zoe Schlossnagle presenting moment tensor research at American Geophysical Union, Dec 2024.Schlossnagle joined Associate Professor of Geology Mong-han Huang’s Active Tectonics Laboratory in 2024 to understand how ice moves based on seismic waves. The project began the year before when a team of researchers, including Huang, deployed and retrieved a set of seismometers (instruments that respond to ground displacement and shaking) on the Ross Ice Shelf, the largest ice shelf in Antarctica. The waves captured by the seismometers reflect and refract based on the material they travel through, which allows researchers to image the immediate subsurface without excavation.

“I’m working on finding moment tensor solutions, which are mathematical ways to visualize and understand the forces that create earthquakes, for very low magnitude ice quakes,” Schlossnagle said. “Knowing what direction ice is slipping in—up and down, left to right—and where a quake’s focal point is can help us calculate things like where an ice shelf will be unstable or even how long we have until the sea level reaches a certain point.”

Though she does most of her work in Huang’s lab on campus, Schlossnagle said that her physics training has been invaluable to her research. Schlossnagle’s problem-solving mindset and the math skills developed in her physics studies helped her approach the challenges of dealing with massive quantities of data. In particular, she said PHYS 401: Quantum Physics and PHYS 404: Introduction to Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics played important roles in her research.

“Like quantum physicists, seismologists look at waves all day long,” Schlossnagle joked. “Having my physics background and learning how to apply those skills has been tremendously helpful. This work is extremely interdisciplinary and it’s definitely reflected in the people I work with—we’re all contributing what we know from different fields, from physics to geology to climate science, to solve mysteries hidden in the ice.”

Giving back to the community

Schlossnagle’s desire to give back to the “community that sparked [her] passion for research and problem-solving” led to a collaboration with Associate Research Professor of Physics Chandra Turpen. Together, they developed an extensive survey—inspired by the research-based approach to mental health taken by the UMD Physics Graduate Student Mental Health Task Force—to identify the unique challenges faced by undergraduates in STEM.

Schlossnagle said the survey explores everything from effective classroom practices for professors to helpful study techniques for students. She and Turpen hope that as they learn more about what undergraduate students experience in their studies, they can help bridge the gap between students and professors.Zoe Schlossnagle doing field work in California.Zoe Schlossnagle doing field work in California.

“Zoe has demonstrated excellent leadership skills and a commitment to transformative change in STEM higher education,” Turpen said. “I’m confident that she will continue to conduct innovative research, contribute to building inclusive research groups and positively shape the experiences of students around her.”

As her senior year draws to a close, Schlossnagle plans to continue her work on unraveling the mysteries of Earth’s frozen frontiers. She will pursue a Ph.D. in cryosphere geophysics in the fall, with a focus on improving ice sheet models and gaining new insight into just how quickly sea levels are changing.

“I think all my academic and extracurricular goals trace back to tackling problems that impact all of us universally,” Schlossnagle said. “And to me, that means we need interdisciplinary solutions from everyone as well.”

 

Building an Error-Creating Quantum Computer

Alaina Green is happy to face a challenge. Before becoming one of Joint Quantum Institute's newest Fellows, she cruised around the Atlantic in a 34-foot sailboat with only her husband, occasionally facing waves as tall as a two-story building. 

“It was a little bit scary at times,” says Green, who is also a physicist at the National Institute of Standards and Technology and a UMD Assistant Research Scientist.  “We'd have these waves come up, and because they were so tall, they would be above us. One time we saw a dolphin—just like, I was looking up at a dolphin.”

When she isn’t navigating the open sea, Green spends most of her time facing the challenges of lab-bound quantum computers—meticulously aligning lasers and wading through pages of mathematical calculations. In fact, the difficulties she found in physics were what originally drew her to the field.

“When I was getting ready to go to college, I was actually really on the fence about whether I was studying literature or physics, which is crazy,” Green says. “Ultimately, I chose to study physics because it was a little bit harder. I've always scored better on my reading and writing tests than my math. I really enjoyed both of them, but physics was more of a challenge.”Alaina Green with UMD graduate student Matthew Diaz working on an equipment in Green's lab. (Credit: Connor Goham)Alaina Green with UMD graduate student Matthew Diaz working on an equipment in Green's lab. (Credit: Connor Goham)

That decision led to her studying physics and working in physics labs as an undergraduate at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, OR and as a graduate student at the University of Washington in Seattle. In those labs, she learned how to use lasers to manipulate atoms and molecules and study both their properties and environments. Then she joined JQI as a postdoctoral researcher and began to use lasers as part of a trapped ion quantum computer, which relies on lasers to manipulate ions—electrically charged atoms.

“Dr. Green is a perfect fit for JQI,” says former JQI Fellow Norbert Linke, who was recently announced as the next director of the University of Maryland’s National Quantum Laboratory and whose lab Green worked in as a postdoctoral researcher. “Her background studying molecule formation in ultracold atomic gases, combined with her recent achievements realizing a diverse array of innovative quantum computing and simulation experiments in trapped ions, makes her an ideal JQI Fellow.”

In Linke’s lab at JQI, Green worked on getting the lab’s quantum computer running as reliably as possible and creating new applications for it. But as she makes her research plans for her own lab, she believes that the work of building bigger and better quantum computers is quickly becoming more suited to industry labs than academic experiments.

“I can't just build another quantum computer, which I think is slightly better, because I know that there are multiple companies who are going to be attempting to do that in order to satisfy their customers,” Green says. “But what I can do is go back and ask some more fundamental questions.”

Green has decided to apply the power of quantum simulations to studying quantum errors and how to correct them. Error correction is currently a major research topic since it is crucial to making quantum computers reliable enough to be widely useful. But Green doesn’t want to primarily focus on improving a computer by eliminating and correcting errors, which is a common approach in quantum computing research. Instead, she wants to build a quantum computer that intentionally fosters errors in simulated environments.

“I'm going to be using my atomic physics expertise to create these sorts of simulated environments, which I can controllably interact with my fairly good but not perfect quantum computer,” Green says. “I want to create this meta-simulator where you can say, ‘Okay, I'm going to have a bunch of this error, and I'm going to see how does this error correction protocol work—does it work?’ I sometimes call it my very bad, no good, horrible quantum computer.”

Using her computer, Green plans to systematically study errors. There are many different types of errors that pop up in quantum computers, and researchers have different proposals for the best ways to deal with them. Creating errors under conditions she controls will help her understand them and explore which error correction approaches work best in practice.

Creating Errors on a Firm Foundation

At first glance, Green’s goal of creating errors might not seem like much of a challenge since quantum computers are notoriously fickle and prone to errors. The slightest shaking or fluctuation of temperature can disrupt their operation. The difficulty in Green’s new project lies in creating errors that are convenient to study. 

Intentionally letting a quantum computer heat up or shaking its lasers will induce errors, but those errors aren’t useful for the systematic study Green plans to undertake. Deliberately creating a specific type of quantum error on demand isn’t trivial but instead requires a similar level of care and expertise as keeping accidental errors in check. Creating useful errors with her quantum computer will be every bit as challenging as her past quantum simulation projects. 

In her new computer, she plans to repurpose elements from some of her postdoctoral work performing quantum simulations—using a quantum computer to mirror the behaviors of another physical system. In particular, there are two notable examples of techniques from Green’s work in Linke’s lab that she expects to play important roles in creating useful errors.

One is a project where she and her collaborators performed a simulation of paraparticles—a hypothetical type of particle postulated by physicists in the 1950s. Paraparticles aren’t going to feature in her computer, but the tools Green and her colleagues used to simulate them will.

To simulate paraparticles, the researchers had to look outside the well-known toolbox of ways to make the various pieces of a quantum computer interact. The standard building block of a quantum computer is a qubit that can exist in multiple states at once (a potential upgrade from regular computer bits that must always be in one of two distinct states). However, the various designs of quantum computers generally include elements that aren’t currently utilized, but those pieces can still be put to use if a researcher knows their computer well enough.

In their paraparticle simulation, Green and her colleagues utilized previously untapped elements of their trapped ion computer that behave as bosons. Bosons are a category of quantum particles characterized by their ability to crowd into the same quantum state. The willingness of bosons to share a state allows them to behave very differently from ordinary qubits, which are built to behave as fermions and thus can’t share the same quantum state.

“There was this new resource of the bosonic degree of freedom, just kind of sitting there,” Green says. “Everyone has access to it, and no one was using it. And so, I felt really proud to be one of the first people to produce an interesting simulation using both the qubit degree of freedom and the boson degree of freedom.”

Moving forward with her new quantum computer, she plans to once again take advantage of the bosons present in her experiment. By using bosons to model an environment that can interact with the normal qubits, she can perform error-creating simulations without dramatically increasing the size of her computer. In December 2024, Green and her colleagues posted a paper on the arXiv preprint server describing their use of the approach to efficiently simulate subatomic particles interacting and sharing energy in one dimension. This experiment paves the way to more complex simulations involving interactions with the environment, including those related to quantum errors. 

A second experiment that Green worked on in Linke’s lab will provide another crucial tool. In it, she and her colleagues developed a technique for managing the temperature of a quantum state in pursuit of quantum simulations of black holes.

Black holes, which are so big they warp space around them, are about as different from the tiny, delicate qubits of a quantum computer as you can get. Surprisingly, some theories describing black holes bear a notable resemblance to theories describing qubits, particularly when it comes to their temperature and the ways that they lose information. In both cases, information is intimately tied to energy and isn’t something that can be simply erased. Instead, it becomes harder to access over time as energy moves around.

“There are these very deep and intimate connections between black holes and quantum computers, which sounds crazy,” Green says. “But it’s actually true.” 

Based on the similarities, researchers have proposed quantum simulations to model black holes from the comfort of a lab (an appealing option compared with trying to glean information across astronomical distances). The various proposals require that states at two different points in time during the simulation come together and interact. The theoretical models also predict that in both cases the temperature will affect the rate at which information is lost, so the simulations must create quantum states at several distinct temperatures to explore the theory fully. 

A quantum state will naturally change based on the temperature of its surroundings, but the process is generally messy. Just exposing qubits to a specific temperature may get researchers a quantum state at that temperature, but it is unlikely to be a specific desired state, such as one carefully chosen to simulate a black hole. So, the team wanted to develop a reliable way to create a desired quantum state at a desired temperature on command. 

Green and her colleagues didn’t perform a full simulation of a black hole, but they did figure out a way to craft quantum states corresponding to specific temperatures. The key to creating states at a desired temperature was the addition of qubits, which are each dedicated just to controlling the temperature of a single quantum state. The additional qubits make the simulation a little harder to run but effectively gave the group individual thermostats to control the temperatures of certain states. They successfully demonstrated the technique by deploying it in experiments that brought states from two points in time together, as is needed for future black hole simulations. The temperature control allowed them to show that information became inaccessible more quickly at higher temperatures.

Since warming is a prominent source of potential quantum computing errors, Green’s ability to simulate temperature fluctuations that occur when and where she wants them will also be valuable in her new computer.

The techniques developed for these projects, as well as the other expertise developed during her postdoctoral research, will be crucial as Green develops her error-creating computer and applies the power of quantum computers to studying quantum computing itself.

It Takes a Village to Do Quantum Research

Green chose to continue her research and build her new computer at JQI because it is part of a robust research community focused on quantum research. And, when constructing a new experiment from scratch, a scientist sometimes needs a friendly loan from a neighbor.

“Sometimes a big stumbling point can just be like a simple piece of equipment that's kind of specific that you just don't have, and you can't afford to take the time to buy—you know, it might not arrive for like two months,” Green says. “But having this critical mass of other people who do similar physics to you can be really helpful because they might have that piece of equipment that you need, even just to borrow it.”

Sharing ideas is also crucial. Quantum computing draws on many areas, including quantum optics, atomic and molecular physics, condensed matter physics and quantum information science. And developing quantum technology generally requires pushing the boundaries of both theory and experiment, so close collaborations between theorists and experimentalists can be invaluable. Green says local collaborations with theorists at JQI make it easier for her to work out potential stumbling blocks in advance and do experiments that push more boundaries than she could on her own.

Collaborations with researchers outside of quantum research are also valuable to Green. As the quantum computing industry matures, quantum computers are becoming useful tools for not only physics research but also other fields like chemistry and mathematics. Part of Green’s work is taking the science of manipulating atoms with lasers and translating that into a mathematical language that can be easily used to tackle research problems in unrelated fields. In her quantum computing research, Green has collaborated with chemists on simulating molecular orbitals, mathematicians who study game theory and combinatorics, and physicists investigating quantum thermodynamics.

“Working with people is my favorite part of being a physicist,” Green says. “It's always just very satisfying, when not only do you understand something, but you know that the person next to you understands something, and you both understand it, because you both brought a piece of the puzzle together. And more importantly, you had to articulate exactly what you meant to each other so the other person would understand what you were thinking. I love that opportunity.”

Green says she is particularly grateful for the chance to collaborate with the brilliant students at UMD, and as she builds her “very bad, no good, horrible quantum computer” she hopes that the students she is introducing to physics will help correct any errors she makes.

“The top piece of advice I give any student, especially those who are joining my lab, is that I am not always right and neither is anyone else who you think is more institutionally important than you,” Green says. “Kind of the mantra in my lab is, ‘If you're not contradicting me, you're not doing it right.’”

Original story by Bailey Bedford: https://jqi.umd.edu/news/new-jqi-fellow-wants-build-error-creating-quantum-computer

Mapping Maryland’s Methane: UMD Initiative Takes Flight

University of Maryland Physics Professor Daniel Lathrop is making significant strides in tracking methane emissions on UMD’s campus and beyond. 

In 2024, Lathrop and his team surveyed the stinky vapor plumes on the UMD campus caused by the university’s aging energy infrastructure for their Remediation of Methane, Water, and Heat Waste Grand Challenges project. With support from students, staff and faculty members across the university, Lathrop’s team helped pinpoint several key locations where excessive steam produced to power campus buildings escaped. Thanks to their efforts, the UMD community better understands the university’s energy production and consumption systems and environmental footprint and plans to use that information to remediate the systems. 

Last month, Lathrop took the project to the skies to apply what he learned from his studies on UMD’s campus to address Maryland’s environmental challenges throughout the state. Excessive methane emission continues to be a major problem as populations grow, leading to air quality decline, increased atmospheric heat trapping, and heightened energy waste and costs. 

“UMD’s campus represents a microcosm of urban and suburban environmental challenges that really have local, national and global implications,” said Lathrop, who holds joint appointments in the Departments of Physics and Geology, the Institute for Physical Science and Technology, and the Institute for Research in Electronics and Applied Physics. “Now that we have a better understanding of the problems our campus faces, we’re better equipped to tackle similar problems the rest of the state may have.” 

“Prior research has shown that most American cities with an aging utility infrastructure lose a lot of methane to the atmosphere,” added Atmospheric and Oceanic Science Professor Russell Dickerson, who is a co-investigator on the project. “We need powerful new tools to locate, quantify and control these emissions. Field campaigns can provide benefits for the efficient use of energy and help protect the health of Marylanders.”

To accomplish this goal, Lathrop partnered with the Maryland Wing of the Civil Air Patrol, a U.S. Air Force auxiliary unit based near Baltimore County, Md. With pilot Piotr Kulczakowicz, who is also director of the UMD Quantum Startup Foundry, Lathrop conducted two research flights aboard the Patrol’s Cessna aircraft in February, hoping to accurately map methane emissions.Piotr Kulczakowicz and Dan LathropPiotr Kulczakowicz and Dan Lathrop

“Just like how UMD came together to solve a problem that affects all the people living and working on our campus, we’re partnering with other members of our community to solve an issue that impacts the whole state,” Lathrop said. “As UMD faculty and as members of the Civil Air Patrol, Piotr and I were uniquely positioned to have UMD scientists team up with the Patrol in a relatively low-cost, efficient and mutually beneficial way of doing methane mapping compared to what many other researchers in this field have done. It’s the first time it’s ever been done here. We bring the instruments and expertise; they bring the planes.” 

On the ground and in the air

Lathrop’s first flight launched on February 10 from Annapolis, Md., circling around southern Pennsylvania and north central Maryland regions including Hagerstown. During this initial test flight, Lathrop focused on calibrating the instruments used to monitor methane—including a system called LI-COR, which is frequently used to track atmospheric changes. Strapped securely to a plane seat, the $30,000 optical sensor tracked real-time emission signatures in parts per billion, thanks to a two-meter-long tube attached to one of its ports and placed through a barely cracked plane window. Methane hot spots were easy to detect.

 “It was very obvious whenever we flew past a methane hot spot,” Lathrop said. “We recorded a notable methane spike of more than 2,250 parts per billion while flying by what we later found out was a landfill in Pennsylvania called Mountain View Reclamation Plant. In contrast, we observed that flying over the Chesapeake [Bay] resulted in a sudden drop in methane levels, or well below 2,050 parts per billion, which we used as a baseline for distinguishing emission signatures from noise.’” 

Lathrop’s second flight on February 24 yielded even more results. From the departure point near Fort Meade, Md., the plane executed two loops around the Baltimore region—one loop at a lower altitude of 1,700 feet and another at 2,700 feet for a more detailed picture of emission patterns near more populated urban areas. Lathrop (in the air) and later his team (on the ground) observed that cities tend to have correlated methane and carbon dioxide emissions, a distinct pattern that differs from other known sources like landfills or gas production facilities. 

“Cities have cars and trucks that leak both methane and carbon dioxide, CO₂,” Lathrop explained. “On the other hand, gas facilities only produce methane and not much CO₂. Generally, landfills only produce methane and not CO₂. These differences could help stakeholders, especially the people living in these communities or who control these emission sources, address the leakages on a more individual level and better mitigate the issues—like high energy waste and costs—that come with them.”

Although his findings are in many ways unique to Maryland, Lathrop says that the methodology used on his flights could benefit other research teams in the region and other states interested in pinpointing methane emission sources and minimizing leakages. Lathrop is currently developing standardized procedures that will allow other teams to carry out similar missions in the future, with hopes that all stakeholdeMethane readings.Methane readings.rs will be able to make better-informed decisions about their environmental impact. 

“We’re already planning for the next few flights across Maryland, which can be quite difficult considering our proximity to restricted airspace in D.C.,” Lathrop said. “But this is only part of a much bigger effort to reduce waste, reduce the associated environmental and fiscal costs, and protect our communities.”

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Other UMD faculty members involved in the Remediation of Methane, Water, and Heat Waste Grand Challenges project include Environmental Science and Technology Associate Professor Stephanie Yarwood, FIRE Assistant Clinical Professor Danielle Niu, Geographical Sciences Assistant Professor Yiqun Xie, and Geology Associate Professor Karen Prestegaard and Professors Michael Evans and Vedran Lekic.

Researchers Play a Microscopic Game of Darts with Melted Gold

Sometimes, what seems like a fantastical or improbable chain of events is just another day at the office for a physicist.

In a recent experiment by University of Maryland researchers at the Laboratory for Physical Sciences, a scene played out that would be right at home in a science fiction movie. A tiny speck glinted faintly as it hovered far above a barren, glassy plain. Suddenly, an intense green light shone toward the ground and enveloped the speck, now a growing dark spot like a meteorite or UFO descending in the emerald beam. Once the object crashed into the ground, the light abruptly disappeared, and the flat landscape was left with a new landmark and treasure for physicists to find: a chunk of gold rapidly cooling from a molten state.

This scene, which played out at a minuscule scale in repeated runs of the experiment, was part of a research project on nanoparticles—objects made of no more than a few thousand atoms. Each piece of gold was a bead hundreds of times smaller than the width of a human hair. In each run, the golden projectile was melted by a green laser and traveled almost a million times its own length to land on a glass slide.

Nanoparticles interest scientists and engineers because they often have exotic and adaptable properties. Unlike larger samples of a material, a nanoparticle can undergo dramatic changes with only small tweaks to its environment or size. For instance, a tiny gold nugget in a California stream has the same melting point, reflectivity and thermal conductivity as a 400-pound block of gold in Central Park, but two gold nanoparticles that differ in diameter by mere billionths of a meter have significantly different properties from the large pieces and, more importantly, each other.

The broad range of properties that nanoparticles have makes them a versatile toolbox for researchers and engineers to draw from. For example, people have used gold-based nanoparticles to detect the influenza virus, deliver medications in the body, and achieve a variety of vibrant colors in stained glass. However, since nanoparticles are so small and easily influenced, researchers must use a variety of specialized tools to study them.

When examining nanoparticles, some properties are best measured by tools—like a scanning electron microscope (SEM)—that get up close and personal with the sample. An SEM can get phenomenal detail on the size and shape of a nanoparticle if it is attached to a larger material that is easy to move and handle. However, the small size of nanoparticles can make other properties, like how they conduct heat, almost impossible to measure if they are touching anything. The mere presence of larger objects can often alter a nanoparticle’s properties or drown out its interaction with the measurement device. Fortunately, many nanoparticles can be isolated from the influence of other materials by using electric fields to levitate them, allowing researchers to use lasers to study certain properties, like heat conduction, from a distance.

JQI Fellow Bruce Kane and UMD researcher Joyce Coppock perform levitation experiments to study tiny pieces of graphene, which are sheets of carbon atoms. And in their quest to develop new tools, they have also turned their attention to tiny gold beads.

However, Kane and Coppock aren’t satisfied with the insights available from levitation experiments alone. They want the best of both worlds: to measure a sample levitated in isolation and then recover it for direct inspection. So, the pair are developing a method to recover tiny samples after they are released from the fields levitating them. In a paper published in Applied Physics Letters, the pair described how they were able to deposit gold nanoparticles on a slide after levitation and how they refined the technique to hone their aim. They hope mastering the process with gold will be useful in future experiments depositing more finicky graphene samples.

Before experimenting with depositing gold, Kane and Coppock had initially tried depositing graphene nanoparticles. Levitation is important for studying graphene on its own because its thickness—just a single atom—makes it challenging to study certain properties when it’s sitting on top of another material. For instance, a bulky material under a piece of graphene generally retains or moves heat around much more dramatically than the graphene, overwhelming any attempts to measure the heat conduction of the graphene itself. Additionally, simply sitting atop another material is often enough to stretch or squeeze a graphene sample in ways that change important properties, like its electrical resistance.

To avoid these issues, Kane and Coppock typically levitate their graphene samples in a vacuum. But the properties best measured directly without levitation are required to get a complete picture of a nanoparticle.

Ideally, Kane and Coppock would like to do both styles of measurement on individual nanoparticles. However, the existing levitation procedure makes it impractical either to perform direct probes on a sample before levitating it or to recover a sample once they remove the electric fields. That’s because there isn’t a convenient way to select a single tiny particle and reliably drop it into the field or recover it from the field.

In their experiments, Kane and Coppock first create an electric field designed to capture charged particles inside a vacuum chamber. To levitate a sample, they fill the chamber with many charged nanoparticles and watch to see if one of them falls into the field. After they make their measurements of that lucky particle, it gets released and becomes just another anonymous, invisible nanoparticle scattered about the vacuum chamber.

But Kane and Coppock had an idea for how to recover samples. Instead of just dropping the electric field and letting the particle fly in a random direction, they realized they could adjust the field to give it a shove in a particular direction as they released it. Then they just had to see if they could get the tiny projectile to land in an area they could easily search.

The pair placed a removable glass slide coated with a thin, conductive layer in the chamber as their target. Connecting a charge sensor to the conducting film allowed them to detect if an electrical charge landed on the slide. They also pointed a camera at the slide. The camera couldn’t watch the nanoparticles as they traveled, but each nanoparticle is just large enough that it will normally show up as a change of a single pixel in the camera image.

The pair’s calculations suggested that if a graphene sheet lands flat on the prepared slide it should stick. However, when they tried out the experiment, they kept measuring a spike in charge at the target—suggesting it hit—but almost never spotted where the sample landed. They suspected that most samples were bouncing off the slide or landing outside the area their camera covered.

So, they simplified the experiment by switching their projectile. Instead of using sheets of graphene that need to land perfectly flat, they tried spherical gold nanoparticles, which can be more uniformly produced and don’t have a preferential orientation for making contact. Kane and Coppock were already familiar with working with gold nanoparticles from previous experiments in which they levitated them and melted them with laser light.

Similar to the graphene sheets, the gold spheres were detected by the charge sensor but then couldn’t be found in the camera image. So, Kane and Coppock applied their melting technique to allow each particle to squish a little when it lands, greatly increasing the chance of sticking. All that was required to melt the gold was to turn up the power on the laser they already had installed for studying samples.

“Lo and behold, the minute we started doing that, we started seeing images on the camera,” says Coppock. “So basically, what was needed was to increase the adhesion by melting the particle.”

After that, they could reliably find the particles. However, repeated tries revealed that a sequence of deposited samples tended to spread far apart on the slide. Being able to place a sample in a consistent area would make the technique more useful and increase their chances of finding deposited graphene samples down the road.

“It's like the problem that people have going to the moon, right?” says Coppock. “You're a tiny person on Earth, and you have to get yourself a long distance to the moon. If you just launched yourself off the Earth, there's no way you would hit the moon. If we just launched the particle out of the trap, there's no way it would both hit the substrate and we would know where it was on the substrate. Finding a 200-nanometer particle on a one-inch sized substrate is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

So, they started working on the consistency with which they launched their tiny samples. The same electrical charge that allows Kane and Coppock to levitate the particles, also allows them to guide particles on the way to the slide. They surrounded the path they wanted the nanoparticles to follow with metal rings and then applied a voltage to the rings during the journey. The applied voltage creates an electric field that nudges a nanoparticle back onto a narrower path if it starts to stray. The way the electric fields bend charged particles back to a central focal point resembles a glass lens focusing light, so researchers call the setup an electrostatic lens.

By experimenting with the voltages that they used to launch the sample and guide it along its path, they were able to change where the particles tended to end up. They adjusted the voltages from a low setting where the samples spread over an area roughly 3,000 micrometers wide to a higher setting where all the particles clustered in an area about 120 micrometers across.

Plots of where gold particles from repeated runs of the experiment landed. The colors of the dots reflect the voltages applied to achieve electrostatic lenses of various strengths. The weakest lens (light blue dots) spread the samples across an area that is about 3,000 micrometers wide, and the strongest lens (red dots) focused all the particles into a cluster just 120 micrometers across. The lower right frame has increased magnification to show the distribution of particles within the cluster created by the strongest lens. (Credit: Laboratory for Physical Sciences)Plots of where gold particles from repeated runs of the experiment landed. The colors of the dots reflect the voltages applied to achieve electrostatic lenses of various strengths. The weakest lens (light blue dots) spread the samples across an area that is about 3,000 micrometers wide, and the strongest lens (red dots) focused all the particles into a cluster just 120 micrometers across. The lower right frame has increased magnification to show the distribution of particles within the cluster created by the strongest lens. (Credit: Laboratory for Physical Sciences)

If the initial scatter area were scaled up to the size of a dartboard, then their improved aim was like clustering their golden darts well within the outer bullseye. This is even more impressive since the scaled-up version of each gold bead is a dart only as wide as a human hair and is being thrown from the equivalent of about 35.5 meters away—about 15 times the normal distance between a dartboard and the throw line.

Moving forward, Kane and Coppock hope to further improve their ability to focus samples into a particular area and to use their refined aim in attempts to recover deposited graphene samples.

Original story by Bailey Bedford: https://jqi.umd.edu/news/researchers-play-microscopic-game-darts-melted-gold