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Three monks stood lounging in the shadows behind the new machine. They kept their hands tucked in their sleeves and watched a fourth monk who stood at the foot of the stairs. The fourth monk gazed patiently up toward a fifth monk who stood on the landing and watched the entrance to the stairway.
Brother Kornh.o.e.r had brooded over his apparatus like an anxious parent, but when he could no longer find wires to wiggle and adjustments to make and remake, he retired to the Natural Theology alcove to read and wait. To speak a summary of last-minute instructions to his crew would be permissible, but he chose to maintain the hush, and if any thought of the coming moment as a personal climax crossed his mind as he waited, the monastic inventor's expression gave no hint of it. Since the abbot himself had not bothered to watch a demonstration of the machine, Brother Kornh.o.e.r betrayed no symptoms of expecting applause from any quarter, and he had even overcome his tendency to glance reproachfully at Dom Paulo.
A low hiss from the stairway alerted the bas.e.m.e.nt again, although there had been several earlier false alarms. Clearly no one had informed the ill.u.s.trious thon that a marvelous invention awaited his inspection in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Clearly, if it had been mentioned to him at all, its importance had been minimized. Obviously, Father Abbot was seeing to it that they all cooled their heels. These were the wordless significances exchanged by glances among them as they waited.
This time the warning hiss had not been in vain. The monk who watched from the head of the stairs turned solemnly and bowed toward the fifth monk on the landing below.
"In principio Deus," he said softly. he said softly.
The fifth monk turned and bowed toward the fourth monk at the foot of the stairs. "Caelum et terram creavit," "Caelum et terram creavit," he murmured in turn. he murmured in turn.
The fourth monk turned toward the three who lounged behind the machine. "Vacuus autem erat mundus," "Vacuus autem erat mundus," he announced. he announced.
"Cure tenebris in superficie profundorum," chorused the group. chorused the group.
"Ortus est Dei Spiritus supra aquas," called Brother Forbore, returning his book to its shelf with a rattling of chains. called Brother Forbore, returning his book to its shelf with a rattling of chains.
"Gratias Creatori Spiritui," responded his entire team. responded his entire team.
"Dixitque Deus: 'FIAT LUX,' " said the inventor in a tone of command. said the inventor in a tone of command.
The vigil on the stairs descended to take their posts. Four monks manned the treadmill. The fifth monk hovered over the dynamo. The sixth monk climbed the shelf-ladder and took his seat on the top rung, his head b.u.mping the top of the archway. He pulled a mask of smoke-blackened oily parchment over his face to protect his eyes, then felt for the lamp fixture and its thumbscrew, while Brother Kornh.o.e.r watched him nervously from below.
"Et lux ergo facta est," he said when he had found the screw. he said when he had found the screw.
"Lucem esse bonam Deus vidit," the inventor called to the fifth monk. the inventor called to the fifth monk.
The fifth monk bent over the dynamo with a candle for one last look at the brush contacts. "Et secrevit lucem a tenebris," "Et secrevit lucem a tenebris," he said at last, continuing the lesson. he said at last, continuing the lesson.
"Lucem appellavit 'diem,' " chorused the treadmill team, chorused the treadmill team, "et tenebras 'noctes,' " "et tenebras 'noctes,' " Whereupon they set their shoulders to the turnstile beams. Whereupon they set their shoulders to the turnstile beams.
Axles creaked and groaned. The wagon-wheel dynamo began to spin, its low whir becoming a moan and then a whine as the monks strained and grunted at the drive-mill. The guardian of the dynamo watched anxiously as the spokes blurred with speed and became a film. "Vespere occaso," "Vespere occaso," he began, then paused to lick two fingers and touch them to the contacts. A spark snapped. he began, then paused to lick two fingers and touch them to the contacts. A spark snapped.
"Lucifer!" he yelped, leaping back, then finished lamely: he yelped, leaping back, then finished lamely: "ortus est et primo die." "ortus est et primo die."
"CONTACT!" said Brother Kornh.o.e.r, as Dom Paulo, Thon Taddeo and his clerk descended the stairs.
The monk on the ladder struck the arc. A sharp spffft!-and blinding light flooded the vaults with a brilliance that had not been seen in twelve centuries.
The group stopped on the stairs. Thon Taddeo gasped an oath in his native tongue. He retreated a step. The abbot, who had neither witnessed the testing of the device nor credited extravagant claims, blanched and stopped speech in mid-sentence. The clerk froze momentarily in panic and suddenly fled, screaming "Fire!"
The abbot made the sign of the cross. "I had not known!" he whispered.
The scholar, having survived the first shock of the flare, probed the bas.e.m.e.nt with his gaze, noticing the drive-mill, the monks who strained at its beams. His eyes traveled along the wrapped wires, noticed the monk on the ladder, measured the meaning of the wagon-wheel dynamo and the monk who stood waiting, with downcast eyes, at the foot of the stairs.
"Incredible!" he breathed.
The monk at the foot of the stairs bowed in acknowledgment and depreciation. The blue-white glare cast knife-edge shadows in the room, and the candle flames became blurred wisps in the tide of light.
"Bright as a thousand torches," breathed the scholar. "It must be an ancient-but no! Unthinkable!"
He moved on down the stairs like a man in a trance. He stopped beside Brother Kornh.o.e.r and gazed at him curiously for a moment, then stepped onto the bas.e.m.e.nt floor. Touching nothing, asking nothing, peering at everything, he wandered about the machinery, inspecting the dynamo, the wiring, the lamp itself.
"It just doesn't seem possible, but-"
The abbot recovered his senses and descended the stairs.
"You're dispensed from silence!" he whispered at Brother Kornh.o.e.r. "Talk to him. I'm-a little dazed."
The monk brightened. "You like it, m'Lord Abbot?"
"Ghastly," wheezed Dom Paulo.
The inventor's countenance sagged.
"It's a shocking way to treat a guest! It frightened the thon's a.s.sistant out of his wits. I'm mortified!"
"Well, it is is rather bright." rather bright."
"h.e.l.lis.h.!.+ Go talk to him while I think of a way to apologize."
But the scholar had apparently made a judgment on the basis of his observations, for he stalked toward them swiftly. His face seemed strained, and his manner crisp.
"A lamp of electricity," he said. "How have you managed to keep it hidden for all these centuries! After all these years of trying to arrive at a theory of-" He choked slightly, and seemed to be fighting for self-control, as if he had been the victim of a monstrous practical joke. "Why "Why have you hidden it? Is there some religious significance-And what-" Complete confusion stopped him. He shook his head and looking around as if for an escape. have you hidden it? Is there some religious significance-And what-" Complete confusion stopped him. He shook his head and looking around as if for an escape.
"You misunderstand," the abbot said weakly, catching at Bother Kornh.o.e.r's arm. "For the love of G.o.d, Brother, explain!" explain!"
But there was no balm to soothe an affront to professional pride-then or in any other age.
19.
After the unfortunate incident in the bas.e.m.e.nt, the abbot sought by every conceivable means to make amends for that unhappy moment. Thon Taddeo gave no outward sign of rancor, and even offered his hosts an apology for his spontaneous judgment of the incident, after the inventor of the device had given the scholar a detailed account of its recent design and manufacture. But the apology succeeded only in convincing the abbot further that the blunder had been serious. It put the thon in the position of a mountaineer who has scaled an "unconquered" height only to find a rival's initials carved in the summit rock-and the rival hadn't told him in advance. It must have been shattering for him, Dom Paulo thought, because of the way it was handled.
If the thon had not insisted (with a firmness perhaps born of embarra.s.sment) that its light was of a superior quality, sufficiently bright even for close scrutiny of brittle and age-worn doc.u.ments which tended to be indecipherable by candlelight, Dom Paulo would have removed the lamp from the bas.e.m.e.nt immediately. But Thon Taddeo had insisted that he liked it-only to discover, then. that it was necessary to keep at least four novices or postulants continuously employed at cranking the dynamo and adjusting the arc-gap; thereupon, he begged that the lamp be removed-but then it was Paulo's turn to become insistent that it remain in place.
So it was that the scholar began his researches at the abbey, continuously aware of the three novices who toiled at the drive-mill and the fourth novice who invited glare-blindness atop the ladder to keep the lamp burning and adjusted-a situation which caused the Poet to versify mercilessly concerning the demon Embarra.s.sment and the outrages he perpetrated in the name of penitence or appeas.e.m.e.nt.
For several days the thon and his a.s.sistant studied the library itself, the files, the monastery's records apart from the Memorabilia-as if by determining the validity of the oyster, they might establish the possibility of the pearl. Brother Kornh.o.e.r discovered the thon's a.s.sistant on his knees in the entrance of the refectory, and for a moment he entertained the impression that the fellow was performing some special devotion before the image of Mary above the door, but a rattle of tools put an end to the illusion. The a.s.sistant laid a carpenter's level across the entranceway and measured the concave depression worn in the floor stones by centuries of monastic sandals.
"We're looking for ways of determining dates," he told Kornh.o.e.r when questioned. "This seemed like a good place to establish a standard for rate of wear, since the traffic's easy to estimate. Three meals per man per day since the stones were laid."
Kornh.o.e.r could not help being impressed by their thoroughness; the activity mystified him. "The abbey's architectural records are complete," he said. "They can tell you exactly when each building and wing was added. Why not save your time?"
The man glanced up innocently. "My master has a saying: 'Nayol is without speech, and therefore never lies.' "
"Nayol?"
"One of the Nature G.o.ds of the Red River people. He means it figuratively, of course. Objective evidence is the ultimate authority. Recorders may lie, but Nature is incapable of it." He noticed the monk's expression and added hastily: "No canard is implied. It is simply a doctrine of the thon's that everything must be cross-referenced to the objective."
"A fascinating notion," murmured Kornh.o.e.r, and bent down to examine the man's sketch of a cross-section of the floor's concavity. "Why, it's shaped like what Brother Majek calls a normal distribution curve. How strange."
"Not strange. The probability of a footstep deviating from the center-line would tend to follow the normal error function."
Kornh.o.e.r was enthralled. "I'll call Brother Majek," he said.
The abbot's interest in his guests' inspection of the premises was less esoteric. "Why," "Why," he demanded of Gault, "are they making detailed drawings of our fortifications?" he demanded of Gault, "are they making detailed drawings of our fortifications?"
The prior looked surprised. "I hadn't heard of it. You mean Thon Taddeo-"
"No. The officers that came with him. They're going about it quite systematically."
"How did you find out?"
"The Poet told me."
"The Poet! Hah!"
"Unfortunately, he was telling the truth this time. He pick-pocketed one of their sketches."
"You have it?"
"No, I made him return it. But I don't like it. It's ominous."
"I suppose the Poet asked a price for the information?"
"Oddly enough, he didn't. He took an instant dislike to the thon. He's gone around muttering to himself ever since they came."
"The Poet has always muttered."
"But not in a serious vein."
"Why do you suppose they're making the drawings?"
Paulo made a grim month. "Unless we find out otherwise, we'll a.s.sume their interest is recondite and professional. As a walled citadel, the abbey has been a success. It's never been taken by siege or a.s.sault, and perhaps their professional admiration is aroused."
Father Gault gazed speculatively across the desert toward the east. "Come to think of it; if an army meant to strike west across the plains, they'd probably have to establish a garrison somewhere in this region before marching on Denver." He thought for a few moments and began to look alarmed. "And here they'd have a fortress ready-made!"
"I'm afraid that's occurred to them."
"You think they were sent as spies?"
"No, no! I doubt if Hannegan himself has ever heard of us. But they are here, and they are officers, and they can't help looking around and getting ideas. And now very likely Hannegan is going going to hear about us." to hear about us."
"What do you intend doing?"
"I don't know yet."
"Why not talk to Thon Taddeo about it?"
"The officers aren't his servants. They were only sent as an escort to protect him. What can he do?"
"He's Hannegan's kinsman, and he has influence."
The abbot nodded. "I'll try to think of a way to approach him on the matter. We'll watch what's going on for a while first, though."
In the days that followed, Thon Taddeo completed his study of the oyster and, apparently satisfied that it was not a disguised clam, focused his attention on the pearl. The task was not simple.
Quant.i.ties of facsimile copy were scrutinized. Chains rattled and clanked as the more precious books came down from their shelves. In the case of partially damaged or deteriorated originals, it seemed unwise to trust the facsimile-maker's interpretation and eyesight. The actual ma.n.u.scripts dating back to Leibowitzian times which had been sealed in airtight casks and locked in special storage vaults for indefinitely long preservation were then brought out.
The thon's a.s.sistant a.s.sembled several pounds of notes. After the fifth day of it, Thon Taddeo's pace quickened, and his manner reflected the eagerness of a hungry hound catching scent of tasty game.
"Magnificent!" He vacillated between jubilation and amused incredulity. "Fragments from a twentieth century physicist! The equations are even consistent."
Kornh.o.e.r peered over his shoulder. "I've seen that," he said breathlessly. "I could never make heads or tails of it. Is the subject matter important?"
"I'm not sure yet. The mathematics is beautiful, beautiful! beautiful! Look here-this expression-notice the extremely contracted term. This thing under the radical sign-it looks like the product of two derivatives, but it really represents a whole set of derivatives." Look here-this expression-notice the extremely contracted term. This thing under the radical sign-it looks like the product of two derivatives, but it really represents a whole set of derivatives."
"How?"
"The indices permute into an expanded expression; otherwise, it couldn't possibly represent a line integral, as the author says it is. It's lovely. And see here-this simple-looking expression. The simplicity is deceptive. It obviously represents not one, but a whole system of equations, in a very contracted form. It took me a couple of days to realize that the author was thinking of the relations.h.i.+ps-not just of quant.i.ties to quant.i.ties-but of whole systems to other systems. I don't yet know all the physical quant.i.ties involved, but the sophistication of the mathematics is just-just quietly superb! If it's a hoax, it's inspired! If it's authentic, we may be in unbelievable luck. In either case, it's magnificent. I must see the earliest possible copy of it. "
Brother Librarian groaned as yet another lead-sealed cask was rolled out of storage for unsealing. Armbruster was not impressed by the fact that the secular scholar, in two days, had unraveled a bit of a puzzle that had been lying around, a complete enigma, for a dozen centuries. To the custodian of the Memorabilia, each unsealing represented another decrease in the probable lifetime of the contents of the cask, and he made no attempt to conceal his disapproval of the entire proceeding. To Brother Librarian, whose task in life was the preservation of books, the princ.i.p.al reason for the existence of books was that they might be preserved perpetually. Usage was secondary, and to be avoided if it threatened longevity.
Thon Taddeo's enthusiasm for his task waxed stronger as the days pa.s.sed, and the abbot breathed easier as he watched the thon's earlier skepticism melt away with each new perusal of some fragmentary pre-Deluge science text. The scholar had not made any clear a.s.sertions about the intended scope of his investigation; perhaps, at first, his aim had been vague, but now he went about his work with the crisp precision of a man following a plan. Sensing the dawn of something, Dom Paulo decided to offer the c.o.c.k a perch for crowing, in ease the bird felt an impulse to announce a coming daybreak.
"The community has been curious about your labors," he told the scholar. "We'd like to hear about it, if you don't mind discussing it. Of course we've all heard of your theoretical work at your own collegium, but it's too technical for most of us to understand. Would it be possible for you to tell us something about it in-oh, general terms that non-specialists might understand? The community has been grumping at me because I hadn't invited you to lecture; but I thought you might prefer to get the feel of the place first. Of course if you'd rather not-"
The thon's gaze seemed to clamp calipers an the abbot's cranium and measure it six ways. He smiled doubtfully.
"You'd like me to explain our work in the simplest possible language?"
"Something like that, if it's possible."
"That's just it." He laughed. "The untrained man reads a paper on natural science and thinks; "Now why couldn't he explain this in simple language." He can't seem to realize that what he tried to read was the simplest possible language-for that subject matter. In fact, a great deal of natural philosophy is simply a process of linguistic simplification-an effort to invent languages in which half a page of equations can express an idea which could not be stated in less than a thousand pages of so-called "simple" language. Do I make myself clear?"
"I think so. Since you do make yourself clear, perhaps you could tell us about that aspect of it, then. Unless the suggestion is premature-as far as your work with the Memorabilia is concerned."
"Well, no. We now have a fairly clear idea of where we're going and what we have to work with here. It will still take considerable time to finish of course. The pieces have to be fitted together, and they don't all belong to the same puzzle. We can't yet predict what we can can glean from it, but we're fairly sure of what we glean from it, but we're fairly sure of what we can't. can't. I'm happy to say it looks hopeful. I have no objection to explaining the general scope, but-" He repeated the doubtful shrug. I'm happy to say it looks hopeful. I have no objection to explaining the general scope, but-" He repeated the doubtful shrug.
"What bothers yon?"
The thon seemed mildly embarra.s.sed. "Only an uncertainty about my audience. I would not wish to offend anyone's religious beliefs."