The Space between Atoms 64

 “What’s matter made of?”

“Atoms.  Protons, neutrons, electrons.”

“And what are they made of?”

“Well, the protons and neutrons are made of quarks.  Electrons are energy.”

“And what are quarks made of?”

“Depends on the theory.”

Calum nodded.  “String theory, which looks pretty promising, says energy.  Strings of vibrating energy.  If that’s correct, everything is energy.”

“I’m with you.”

“There are many sources of energy, of course.  Fossil fuels, natural processes like winds and waves, solar and nuclear.  All of them derive from the sun, ultimately.  All living beings require energy.  We get it from eating.  We expend it by exercising.  I’m sure Lindsey won’t mind if I discuss sexual energy.”

Terah flushed and put his hand to his face.  He was glad he’d decided not to shave his beard.

“The orgone, or life force, was first explored by Wilhelm Reich in the 1930s.  The main work was carried on by his student Charles Kelley.  Surely you’ve noticed the considerable energy released at orgasm?  These scientists believed the orgone was a separate kind of energy responsible for life.  Of course, standard science rejected their claims.  They’re based on common sense, however.

“Paranormal activity and sexuality have been connected many times.  Science has explained neither fully and both participate in the irrational.  Yes, procreation is rational, but the lengths we go to, well, they speak for themselves.  Don’t worry, Terah, I’m not suggesting an orgy or anything like that.  I’m simply asking you to consider the obvious.

“The paranormal has been studied at a few universities over time.  Science, however, requires funding.  Funding requires donors.  Science that leads to big news or big patents repays donors.  Science just for the sake of knowing has fallen on difficult times.  Universities, as I’m sure you know, are political.  Jobs are passed along as favors.  Dynasties exist.  Pride and rivalries—they’re human inventions, after all.  The paranormal has suffered from a concentrated effort to make anything outside the mainstream look ridiculous.  Ridicule works.  You’re probably thinking by now that I’m just another self-taught crackpot.  Am I right?”

Lindsey pulled a book from a shelf and found a comfortable seat.

“Well, it does sound far-fetched,” Terah admitted, not wanting to insult the man who was feeding and housing him.

“I insist on absolute honesty, Terah.  Don’t worry about the room and board.  I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“Are you sure?  Having been fired for being honest makes it difficult.”

“Lindsey, am I sincere?”

She looked up.  “Believe him, Terah.  I always have.”

“If you’re sure.  Okay.  So, scientists from the beginning have by and large dismissed all of this.”

“Sorry to interrupt.  Please tell me what you mean by the beginning.”

“Newton, Galileo, Copernicus.  The usual suspects.  They showed that the universe was mechanical.  There was no need for an outside force, like God.  Science grew from there.  Darwin, Hubble, Einstein.  Universities carried on the work and have long dismissed the supernatural.  Religious studies is a branch of anthropology, one of the soft sciences.  Nobody thinks the claims of religion are really real.  We study it as a phenomenon, something people used to believe.  Not something to be taken literally.  Like English lit.  Why should I believe someone who hasn’t had their thinking changed by years and years of having to defend your ideas, reading everything about a subject?  You can read, of course, but where’s the critical thinking?”

Calum nodded.  “Good points.  You do know Newton remained a convinced alchemist to his death.  Galileo didn’t really accept the church, but Copernicus was a clergyman, although it’s unknown if he was ever actually ordained.  Darwin is best considered an agnostic—and a tortured one at that—Hubble struggled with religion, and even Einstein left the door partially open.  No one doubts these scientists were critical thinkers.  There is doubt about their atheism, though.

“As for my qualifications, you’re right to question them.  I was a commodities trader, not an academic.  I’m not without training, however.  What they’re now calling ‘distance education’ has also existed for centuries.  I began by writing out my ideas, along with bibliography, and sending them to Parker Yaffle—I see you’ve heard of him.”

“Professor Yaffle was the foremost religion scholar Chicago ever produced!  Spent his career at Harvard.  Of course I’ve heard of him!”

“Parker was a most accommodating man.  I sent him a letter explaining who I was and what I was trying to do—this was when people still sent actual letters.  Parker was unlike many academics.  It didn’t worry him that he wasn’t being paid to help me.  He thought it was a strange idea that knowledge could be exchanged for money.  Still, over the years he agreed to take me on as an unofficial doctoral student.  I learned critical thinking from him.  I know that an author is as important as a book or article, most of the time.  I know the publisher of a book matters.  I know the deep and concentrated engagement with a subject.  I even know the value of peer review.  I also know the system can be gamed.  And I know academics tend to be biased against the supernatural.

“Parker once told me—I still have his letter in my files—that the Paraíba Inscription is authentic.  The artifact was discovered in 1872 outside Paraíba, Brazil.  It was a stone monument written in Phoenician.  Found by slaves of a wealthy landowner named Joaquim Alves da Costa on his plantation, the stone was badly weathered.  Da Costa made a drawing of the inscription and took it to  Ladislau de Souza Mello Netto.  Netto was the director of the National Museum of Brazil.  He showed the drawing to semitic experts who declared the language to be Phoenician.  The inscription told how a shipload of Phoenicians—they had circumnavigated Africa according to Herodotus, a problematic source, I know—was blown off-course and landed in this strange country.  If you look at a map you’ll see Africa and Brazil are only 1,600 miles apart at their closest.  Netto at first accepted the inscription as authentic.”

“I’ve heard about this,” Terah interjected.  “There were grammatical errors in the copy and da Costa claimed the original stone had been stolen.  Netto declared it a forgery.”

“Indeed, you are correct.  Parker, however, looked at the inscription and declared that the ‘errors’ were actually Phoenician dialectical variations unknown in the 1870s.  There was no way da Costa—who had committed suicide over the shame brought on his family name—could have known these dialectical variations.  I used to attend the American Academy of Religion annual meeting; I see from your expression that you used to attend as well.  The year Parker was elected president I went to hear his address.  The room was crowded and an eerie feeling hung in the air as he went over his catalogue of artifacts that fit his theory.  He ended his speech by stating even stranger things could be said.”

“I was there for that talk,” Terah conceded.  “The audience left in silence.”

“I had an appointment with Parker after that speech.  You won’t believe what he told me that night.”