Galileo's Lost Message Read online

  Vincenzo Maculano was born at Fiorenzuola d’Arda in 1578. He studied architecture and mathematics at the University of Bologna, matriculating to become a cleric. He eventually became the Inquisitor for the Roman Catholic Church.

  John Milton was born in London in 1608. He studied at Christ’s College, Cambridge.

  Isaac Newton was born in 1643 in Woolsthorpe. He went on to study at Trinity College, Cambridge.

  Vincenzo Viviani was Galileo’s last student, studying with him during the last three years of his life. He was born in 1622 in Firenze.

  Fictional Characters

  Contessa Antonietta Floridiana da Vinci is an Italian countess who lives in Arcetri, near Firenze. She was born in the village of Vinci.

  Giovanni Bazzocchi (the elder) is the owner of the Hotel Palazzo Galletti Abbiosi in Ravenna. He is a lifetime citizen of Ravenna, having been born there during the Italian campaign of World War II.

  Inspector Bustamente is a police inspector in Firenze.

  Luigi Bulgatti is a professor of engineering at the Università di Roma. He was born in Brindisi.

  Marco Vincenzo da Vinci is the son of Contessa Antonietta Floridiana. He was born in Pisa.

  Paul Woodbridge is a professor of Mechanical Engineering at The University of Cleveland. He was born in Moscow, Idaho.

  Glossary of Terms and Places

  Allora – Italian word for ‘then’

  Anch’io – Italian word for ‘me, too’, or ‘same here’

  Arcetri - a village on the hillside south of Firenze where Galileo's last home was located

  Basilica – Italian word for ‘church’

  Basta - contracted form of the Italian word abastanza, meaning 'enough'

  Bo – Italian word for ‘ox’, the affectionate name for the University of Padua, one of the oldest and most respected universities in the world

  Braccia – a unit of length approximately equal to the distance from a man’s nose to the tip of his finger when his arm is outstretched

  Campanile – Italian word for ‘bell tower’

  Camposanto - Italian word for ‘cemetery’

  Certamente – Italian word for ‘certainly’

  Cisterna – Italian word for ‘well’

  Coniuge – Italian word for ‘spouse’

  Contrade – the districts of a city in Italy, used herein to refer to the districts in Siena

  Doge - the head of the Venetian Empire

  Ecco – Italian word for ‘here’

  Esattamente - exactly

  Firenze - Italian name for Florence

  Galilei - an Italian family name, implying that the family came from Galilee

  Non so – Italian phrase for ‘I don’t know’

  Perspiculum – the term initially used by Galileo to describe his magnifying glass, later to be termed a telescope by Giovanni Demisiani

  Piazza – Italian word for ‘public square’

  Pietà – Italian term for a depiction of the Madonna and Jesus

  Professore – Italian word for ‘professor’

  Roma – Italian name for Rome

  Scavi – Italian word for ‘excavations’

  Sempre – Italian word for ‘always’

  Signoria – Italian word for a group of leading citizens

  Stessa cosa – Italian phrase for ‘same thing’

  Truffatore - Italian word for 'crook'

  Va bene – literally ‘it goes well’ in Italian, but used to mean ‘okay’

  Venezia – Italian name for Venice

  Prologue

  I've loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

  -Galileo Galilei (1564-1642)

  1998

  British Press Limited, London

  Thursday, January 8, 1998

  It was announced today at the University of Padova, Italy that a poem has been discovered that appears to be the last known writing of Galileo. This discovery comes on the three hundred fifty-sixth anniversary of the passing of Galileo, who died in 1642 at his villa in Arcetri, near Firenze.

  Apparently, the poem was found hidden within a credenza, where it had lain undetected for more than three and a half centuries. The poem was discovered by the Contessa Antonietta Floridiana da Vinci, who recently purchased the credenza at auction.

  To date the credenza has been authenticated to have been owned by Galileo during his last years. In addition, it has been determined using chemical analysis that both the paper and the ink used to write the poem are consistent with paper and ink used in the mid-seventeenth century.

  The text of the poem appears to be written in some sort of as yet undiscernible secretive code, much like that used by other scientists of the time, including Leonardo Da Vinci. An international team of scientists has been assembled to study the poem and ascertain the underlying meaning. One member of the team expressed confidence that the message will be deciphered within a short period of time, so stay tuned for further word on this astounding discovery.

  January 1642

  He awakened with a start. He had been dreaming. In his dream he had been back in the abbey at Vallombrosa, a young boy of fifteen. Now fully awake, the thought of those days brought a smile to his face. Thinking back, he wondered to himself how his life might have turned out had his father not taken him away when he had declared his intention to become a monk. "No," he thought, "It surely would not have worked." Though in hindsight he might have preferred a life of obscure piety, sooner or later he would have rebelled had he remained in the abbey. His mind was too inventive to have tolerated the conformity, and his desire to prove himself could not have been denied. Yes, despite his current state of disgrace, his wistful dreams of happier days were just that and nothing more - dreams.

  He rolled onto his side and reached for his hour glass and, checking to see whether it had drained completely, he could tell that it had indeed. He frowned as he thought of how he had invented a pendulum device for telling time that would have performed admirably for both the sighted and sightless, but he had been unable to build one before he had become blind due to the encroachment of his other infirmities. It had been an imposition, being without the use of his eyes, but not so much so in his current circumstances. He still had his mind, and imprisoned as he was, there was little to see anyway. He thenceforth waited patiently for the dawn, but while he did so, he allowed his mind to wander.

  For the thousandth time he wondered to himself whether it had been the eye infection from his childhood or the long nights of star gazing that had caused his eyesight to fail. Whatever the cause, he would not have done things otherwise had he known the outcome in advance. "I am, and will be throughout the history of humankind, the first to see the wonders of our universe." At this thought he gazed sightlessly to the heavens, seeing in his mind's eye the moons of Jupiter, the face of the Moon wobbling back and forth, the strange shape of Saturn, the horns of Venus, and surely most significantly of all, the strange comet. So many images, all stored in his mind forever.

  Pondering his woeful disgrace, he nonetheless smiled to himself, his greatest discovery in the stars yet to be revealed. And whenever his discovery should be made known, he was confident that he would be restored to his rightful place in history.

  Contemplating his deception, he bit his lip with concern regarding his secretive method for divulging his greatest discovery. “Surely the right person will find it, and the world will know at last,” he thought to himself, but he subsequently murmured aloud, “May God be with humankind in the Age of Aquarius.” Contentedly envisioning his precious stars, he subsequently drifted off to sleep.

  A short time later there came a knock at his door, a voice calling out, "Signore Galilei? Boungiorno, Professore." A young man entered the bedroom, treading slowly to The Great Man's bedside. The morning sunshine pouring in through the window; a beautiful day was dawning. A ray of sunlight brightened the face of the recumbent figure, a serene smile playing upon his waxen lips.

  Suddenly concerned, the
youthful admirer nudged the elder man gently, but to no avail. Having achieved no response, he stepped back a pace, transfixed by the ethereal tranquility of the scene before him. Moments passed, his heart beating wildly, each loud thump coursing within his now swelling throat. He found himself rooted to the spot, a feeling of despondence draining all energy from him. Finally, gathering himself, the significance of the moment sweeping over him like a chilling breeze, he uttered softly to himself, "Now The Great Man is with the angels,” and sobbing, he added, “And together they will carry his message to the stars."

  Chapter 1

  A Starry Message

  What hath night to do with sleep?

  -John Milton (1608-1674)

  March 1997

  Professor Paul Woodbridge paced intently to and fro across the expansive dais, the auditorium packed with a bulging throng of bemused students. Behind him, the blackboard was arrayed with an assemblage of formulas and diagrams that even the brightest of scholars would have found dizzying. To his side stood a large mechanical contraption consisting of a ramp approximately ten feet long, bells having been attached to it at unequal intervals. At the base of the ramp three balls of varying sizes lay within a collection area.

  As if he assumed everyone within the classroom understood such a mystifying concept, Professor Woodbridge now announced with decisive self-assurance, “And, as we can see, Newton’s laws win the day once again. The law of falling bodies, first espoused by Galileo Galilei, soundly defeats the erroneous Aristotelian myths that were accepted in Galileo’s time, and Newton’s second law confirms that Galileo was correct.”

  Having said this, he strutted to the contraption and, using a lever, he adjusted the height of the ramp. He then posited, “Now, watch what happens when I increase the slope of the ramp dramatically.” Gingerly placing a ball onto the ramp, he observed triumphantly as it rolled madly towards the lower end. After a short pause for effect, he queried with palpable arrogance, “What is the problem here, students?” at which his query was met with absolute silence.

  He frowned momentarily, as if astounded by the intellectual vacuum arrayed before him, but abruptly he pronounced with seemingly undaunted enthusiasm, “Suppose I adjust the ramp until it is in the vertical position,” and once again pausing for effect, he added, “What happens then?”

  At length, the silence growing embarrassing to one and all, a single courageous student spoke up hesitantly, offering, “Sir, uhm, I suppose then you have the experiments that Galileo did when he dropped balls from the Leaning Tower,” but then the daring pupil added somewhat inanely, “I know, I’ve been there!” And at this rather pugnacious pronouncement, snickers erupted from the audience.

  Ignoring the emerging cacophony, Professor Woodbridge responded with enthusiasm, “Excellent! We have a world traveler in our midst! Not only that, he is an observant world traveler.” He paused momentarily and, his broad smile slowly fading noticeably, he added surreptitiously, “Unfortunately, our peripatetic genius may not be quite correct. You see class, it has never been substantiated that Galileo actually dropped balls from The Leaning Tower of Pisa, and at any rate, had he done so, he would have found out what countless others have since determined – that the balls hit the ground so closely to the same moment in time that it is virtually impossible to prove anything one way or the other. After all,” and, his unctuous grin emerging yet again, he added with perfect timing, “Nobody could afford a wristwatch in Galileo’s time!” And at this he gesticulated at his wristwatch, pausing momentarily in the vain anticipation of laughter. Hearing none, he continued undaunted, inquiring, “Mister….?”

  The now terrified student replied somewhat haltingly, “Er, Nelson, sir.”

  “Ah, yes, Mr. Nelson. You, sir, deserve a gold star today for valor! I hereby award you the gold star. Wear it with pride!” And with this rather ludicrous pronouncement Professor Woodbridge traced the form of an invisible star in the air, accentuating his archaic motion with absurdly prancing footwork.

  The student arose in mock valor and, clasping his hands together over his head as a sign of victory, he was rewarded with simultaneous twitters and applause by the temporarily bemused audience.

  Professor Woodbridge now continued his monologue with feigned eloquence, “With his newfound award, Mr. Nelson is entitled to a cup of coffee for a dollar at McDonald’s,” and, the class now breaking into a wild ovation, the student rose out of his seat yet again and bowed to accept this farcical accolade.

  The commotion having eventually abated, Professor Woodbridge continued his lecture on a more somber note, stating doubtfully, “Now then, my students, dare I say, future leaders of our planet? Yes, I shall be presumptuous – leaders of tomorrow,” and here once again he broke into a broad and perhaps even denigrating grin, adding, “Here is my question for the day. Why did Galileo build a ramp like this when all he had to do was drop balls from The Leaning Tower?”

  At this the lecture hall once again descended into deathly silence. Excruciating seconds passed, Professor Woodbridge eventually commencing to pace impatiently to and fro. Back and forth he strutted before his captive audience, clearly bent on silent accusation until some poor soul mustered the nerve to venture a response.

  Finally, dread of silence overwhelming even fear of failure, one student hazarded a terrified guess, “Maybe he wanted to slow things down.”

  Clapping his hands together in apparent glee, Professor exclaimed, “Hooray! Thanks be to God! Praise Allah! We have a winner!” Now gesticulating with his finger in the approximate direction of the distraught volunteer, he expostulated, as if it were an accusation of error, “And what, sir, is your name?”

  The erstwhile intrepid student, now clearly regretting having spoken up, muttered softly, “Uh, Bobby, sir.”

  “Well, Robert…I shall call you Robert. After all, Bobby is much too familiar. Exactly how did you come to this conclusion, Sir Robert?”

  The student seemed to consider for a moment, then responded apprehensively, “Sir, when the ramp is tilted steeply it is impossible to distinguish between the times when the bells start ringing. But when the tilt is low, the balls move slowly enough that the clang of each bell can be distinguished quite easily.”

  “Exactly, Robert, and our Galileo determined the interval of time between the clangs of each bell with a device called a clepsydra, which is a fancy name for a water clock. When balls were dropped from a high place such as The Leaning Tower, everything happened far too quickly for the time measuring devices of Galileo’s time. And here is where the genius of Galileo emerges. He recognized that if the ball was rolled down an inclined plane, not only would the interval of time be expanded considerably, but Galileo also understood that the underlying physics of the two problems are identical. And that, my students, is the genius of Galileo Galilei!” At this pronouncement Professor Woodbridge held his hands apart in triumph, gesturing grandly as if he himself had invented the law of falling bodies.

  Professor Woodbridge’s brazen solicitation of applause having failed miserably, one brave student raised his hand and inquired timidly, “Sir, is Galileo Galilei the same person as Galileo?”

  At this deplorable regression, Professor Woodbridge turned and responded with a piercingly condescending glare, “What is your name, sir?”

  “Rodney, sir,” came the terror-stricken response.

  “Not your first name. I can’t remember first names. What is your last name?”

  Now measurably discomforted, the student uttered, “Weatherby, sir…Rodney Weatherby.”

  “Ah, yes, Mr. Weatherby,” Professor Woodbridge responded, his withering stare continuing unabated. “Excellent question!” at which the student brightened measurably. “Students, take note of Mr. Weatherby. While his educational skills appear to be somewhat lacking, he shows initiative. I expect that he will go far in life,” and at this Professor Woodbridge glowered intensely at several other members of the audience, all of whom seemed to wither under his probing glance
.

  Turning back towards Weatherby, Professor Woodbridge continued, “As to your question, Mr. Weatherby, Galileo Galilei is indeed the person that we refer to today as Galileo. We have simply dropped his surname, just as we have dropped the last name of Michelangelo and Raffaelo, as well as the first names of Mozart and Beethoven. You see, occasionally it so happens that a person’s contributions to humankind are so important as to transcend the necessity for using two names. I expect that someday society may well speak of you, sir, as simply ‘Weatherby’, the founder of the ‘Weatherby Theory’. For my part, I am quite certain that you students have already assigned to me a far more descriptive name than Woodbridge.”