Chapter 7. The Project Begins
Victor was the last to arrive for the kickoff of the Strings Project, and he was on time. When he walked through the open door, he saw Dr. Angelo, Chancellor Grigsby, Miriam and Dan, sitting at an oval, oak conference table. All present offered greetings. Grigsby wore a business suit, but the rest were clothed in “campus casual” garb.
Dr. Angelo opened the session, speaking in a serious air, “Before we get started, I need a reality check, and Miriam is the one who can do it.” Miriam looked puzzled as Dr. Angelo continued, “Chancellor, do you remember ... at the Reception, I spoke to you about a chalk-talk artist’s painting?”
“Indeed, I do,” Grigsby responded.
“Well, I want to show it to you, and, especially, I want Miriam to inspect it and give us her thoughts.” Miriam had no idea where this matter was going. Dr. Angelo stepped to a credenza set along the East wall of the room. On top of it was a large, framed picture with its face to the wall. He turned the painting around for all to see, saying, “Now, Miriam, take your time, study the drawing, and give me your impressions of it.”
Miriam surveyed the art, nervously. She noted the broad path to Hell and the narrow, winding path to Heaven. Abruptly, she gasped, as she pointed, “Oh my! This is your wife, Amy!” Tears welled up in Miriam’s eyes, “I miss her so much, and I know you miss her even more. How did the artist capture her likeness. It’s just perfect!”
Tearfully, Dr. Angelo responded, “Thanks ... Miriam ... I needed to hear you say that. It assures me that I am not just inventing things I want to feel. Now, let me answer your question. I was strolling through the park, across the street, the morning of the Installation Ceremony, wishing Amy was alive and with me in this new enterprise, when I saw a crowd gathering around a white van. A chalk-talk artist by the name of Beauregarde Rouseau was standing on a platform beside the van, preaching a sermon about the broad way to Hell and the narrow way to Heaven and drawing this scene. This heavy paper was mounted on an easel attached to the van. As he talked, he added characters to his drawing. I was startled when he drew my Amy, on the road to Heaven. Bo even said, ‘She’s calling out, “Come, follow Jesus and you will have a wonderful life. You’ll get to enter Heaven, too.”’ You know? with almost those same words, Amy is the one who got me interested in Jesus. She explained the Bible to me. She’s the reason I’m a believer.”
“Miraculous!” the Chancellor exclaimed. “That’s way beyond coincidental. God was there!”
“Well,” Dr. Angelo said, “I
wanted you all to know why this picture is on my office wall. It brings me
great comfort to see Amy approaching Heaven. I sincerely believe she’s there,
now.”
Dan had heard the Doctor’s testimony a few days earlier, in the park, but to
have it corroborated by Miriam, with such emotion, warmed his heart.
Everyone but Vic had moist eyes. He wondered, “How can these well-educated people be so superstitious? Surely, they know that much of the Bible is myth. Most of the faculty at this University would see it my way. I admit it’s a long shot, but this street artist just happened to portray someone who looks like Dr. Angelo’s deceased wife.” Vic, politely, kept his thoughts to himself.
Dr. Angelo regained his composure and said, “Now, to the business at hand. Before we get scientific, Dr. Grigsby wants to say a few words.”
The Chancellor cleared his throat and spoke, “You know, Chuck, your painting is a wondrous work, but, also, it is truly fine art. I want my wife to see it. And, I’m going to locate that artist. He might be willing to paint some murals for the University’s new Community Center. Now, about our Project. I came by to assure you all that I am a part of your team. I can’t do the science, but I have lined up some help. As you work on this Project, each of you youngsters will, also, be working toward a Doctorate in your field. So, I have assigned each of you a consulting professor who has pledged to help you realize that achievement.” Grigsby reached into his inner suit-coat pocket and pulled out some folded sheets of printer paper. He handed one to each of the team members. “Here’s a list of the cooperating professors. It includes their phone numbers and email addresses. My contact information is there, too. Of course, Dr. Angelo will lead the Project, but throughout the effort, your consulting professors will help each of you win your PhD. That said, I’ll be on my way. This Project is important to me. I’m only a phone call away.”
Dan retrieved his wallet from his slacks. He pulled out a folded schedule of Bo’s upcoming chalk-talks and handed it to Dr. Grigsby, saying, “I happened to be at that rally when Bo made this drawing. This schedule shows Bo’s contact information. I’ve got another copy, so take this one with you.”
“Thank you very much!” Grigsby said. He rose, with his face full of smiles, shook hands with everyone on the team, and dashed out the door.
“We are truly blessed to have such strong support,” Dr. Angelo said. “Now, let’s earn it. The three stacks of materials on the table are all alike. Each contains copies of my publications that relate to this Project. I want you to study them diligently. Many scientists who have reviewed these papers agree with me; what we call empty space is populated by mysterious entities we will call ‘strings’. Of course, some scientists disagree. We will try to prove them wrong. We will construct physical experiments that validate my equations.” Smiling, he continued, “And, I guess, we must accept the idea that we may prove me wrong. Even that would be significant.
“I began my research by pondering the writings of Einstein. They are truly complex. It’s amazing that his ponderous equations evoked a very simple rule we all know well, E=mc2 . This tells us that energy is matter and matter is energy. They are two forms of the same thing, just as water and ice are two forms of H2O. Several years ago, I read a paper by an Israeli physicist who said, ‘Energy is frozen information; matter is frozen energy.’ That, got me thinking. Now, that author didn’t mean to imply anything about cold temperatures. No, he simply meant that matter is congealed energy. I don’t know what he meant by the phrase, ‘Energy is frozen information’.
“Anyway, I spent years working with Einstein’s equations and those of many other physicists. I came to the conclusion that everything in the Universe is made of very tiny strings that are entwined with their neighboring strings by unknown linkages. The whole cosmos is a gigantic, multi-dimensional fabric. These strings can present themselves to us as energy or as matter. At times they combine to form the atomic particles we have detected and named. For instance, I believe a neutrino is an ordered bundle of strings. So is an electron or a photon. My logic and equations bear this out.”
Doctor Angelo chuckled as he reminisced, “You know, this idea that the tiny atomic particles are made of even smaller entities reminds me of an old English rhyme:
Big
fleas have little fleas,
Upon their backs to bite 'em,
And little fleas have lesser fleas,
and so, ad infinitum.
Who knows? Maybe we’ll find that strings have strings. Anyway, we need to find physical proofs that substantiate my theories.”
The Doctor’s moment of mirth put Vic at ease. He raised a question, “How can the Earth keep circling the Sun in this fabric of strings? Won’t these strings offer enough resistance to slow it down and make it fall into the Sun?”
“Well,” Dr. Angelo answered, “Let’s consider what we know about neutrinos. The Sun showers our solar system with them. Each second, about 65 billion neutrinos pass through every square centimeter of the Earth’s surface facing the Sun. Almost none of them collide with any part of the Earth. They pass right through the planet. So, from a neutrino’s viewpoint, Earth is simply a wispy fog of matter. It’s mostly empty space. Now, as I said, I think a neutrino is an organized bundle of strings. Most of the fabric of the cosmos is individual strings. So, we must view the space between the objects in the Universe as a very sparse fog and the objects themselves as a somewhat denser, but still a very thin, fog. So, as the Earth races around the Sun, its fog moves through the fabric fog with almost no resistance.
“Now, here’s my plan. I want us to focus on how neutrinos and photons move through the fabric of the cosmos. Vic, I want you to take the lead on neutrinos. Study all the scientific papers about them. Become the world’s leading authority on the subject. Think of ways we might reveal how strings combine to form neutrinos. The consensus of scientists, at present, thinks neutrinos move slightly slower than light. Why?
“Dan, I want you to focus your attention on photons. They are particles of light, so we know how fast they travel. Why? How many strings make up a photon? Do the strings in the fabric regulate the velocity of light? I’d love to find a way to fire one photon through various materials and track its trajectory and speed.
“Miriam, I want you to focus on the mathematical systems that various cosmologists have published. Rework these equations with a variety of transforms. Relate the equations of one theory to those of another. See, if you can squeeze out one idea we can test with a physical experiment.”
After a slight pause, the Doctor stood, straightened his frame, smiled, and said, “Now, let’s go next door, to room 312. That’s where your desks are situated.” Miriam hoisted her stack of material and followed him out the door. Vic followed her, and Dan followed him.
“Miriam,” the Doctor said, you get the desk in the arc of the bay window on the North wall.” Pointing to the left, he said, “Dan, you get the desk on the West wall, and Vic, you’re on the East.”
As arranged, the team members faced each other when seated at their desks. Dr. Angelo hoped this would promote dialog. The room was spacious, so the team members were about ten feet apart. Each desk was equipped with a computer and a printer.
Dr. Angelo said, “We’ll have regular meetings on Tuesday and Thursday mornings in my office at 8:00 AM. Come prepared to discuss any interesting findings you have uncovered and to share your best ideas with the group. And, of course, feel free to come to my office at any time to share your thoughts or raise questions. And, to simplify conversations, from now on, just call me ‘Doc’. Basically, your efforts will be self-directed. You will arrange your visits to various libraries, your conferences with your consulting professors, etcetera. The computer technicians have provided us with a team calendar. Please post your activities there, so we know where you are. And, please give me your cell phone number, so I can reach you easily. My number is on the top sheet of your materials stack.”
Miriam moved to her station and began perusing her stack of papers. Seated before the ornate windows, highlighting her luxurious hair, she looked like a fairytale princess. Even though she was dressed in a modest, long-sleeved blouse and baggy, blue jeans, her beauty was not concealed.
With great difficulty, Dan forced himself to divert his eyes. He rotated his chair to face away from Miriam and dove into his reading materials.
Vic was captivated by the appearance of Miriam. A plan jumped into his brain, “Dump Shelly; conquer Miriam! I’m somewhat bored with Shelly, anyway ... Miriam will be a step up ... but she declined my invitation to dancing venues ... Maybe karaoke appeals to her.” His fantasizing was interrupted by the sounding of his cell phone. As a rip of bongo drums filled the air, he flipped it open. “It’s Mom. Has Grandma died already?” he wondered. Then, he asked, “What’s up?”
Mom was excited, “You can’t imagine how much improved Grandma is!” she exclaimed, “Last night, she insisted on feeding herself. Her complexion is much improved. She has renewed energy. And, she’s begging to see you. I know you’re busy, but can you come to the nursing home tonight?”
In no way was Vic going to go near Grandma before she died. “No contact, no suspicion!” was his rule. He did the math, quickly. “Probably, she will be dead by Thursday; no later than Sunday,” he reasoned. “Mom,” Vic said with a shade of sarcasm, “It’s good that Grandma Berkmann is better, but I have tons of work to do. I’m buried!” He paled as his own words reverberated through his head. ‘Buried’ sounded like a Freudian slip. “I can’t come to the nursing home tonight. I’ll plan to come next week.” He was sure Grandma would be gone by then.
“Vic, you’ve got to see this! Maybe you’ll get a break in your work before then. If possible, try to come sooner, please!” Mom pleaded.
“I’ll try to come sooner,” Vic repeated, methodically, knowing he was lying. “Now, I’ve got to get back to work.” With that, he and Mom said their “goodbye”s.
“That really messed up my plans,” Vic grumbled to himself, “I can’t ask Miriam out, when she just heard me say I was too busy to visit my ailing Grandma ... And, next week will be the Funeral proceedings ... I’ll have to stick with Shelly for the next two weeks ... She’ll do for now.”
With a look of concern, Dan queried, “Any chance your Grandma will get to return home?”
“No!” Vic retorted, forcefully. He didn’t want Dan to know that he knew his Grandma had no chance of leaving the nursing home alive. “Uh ... I mean ... that’s not likely ... she’s in bad shape ... my Mom lets her wishes overwhelm her wisdom.”
Dan continued, “We lost my Mom’s Mom a couple of years ago. She lived with us. We were very close. I still miss her.”
“Yes,” Vic replied, “it’s hard to watch a loved one in decline.” His kindly words masked his selfish thoughts, “I’ll be glad when this is over ... no more feedings at the nursing home ... no more visits with an age-wrecked woman ... And, I’ll get my inheritance ... I’ll be rich!”
Miriam remained silent, but she was disturbed by Vic’s attitude. She thought, “How could he be that busy? ... till next week? I know he wants to dive into this Project, but, surely, he could find a couple of hours to visit his Grandma. Dan seems more worried about her than Vic does.”
Vic realized he had made himself look brutish in the eyes of Miriam and Dan, so he made up a cover story, “I’m loaded with projects. I promised some of the fellows in the Biology Department that I would finish some plant molecule studies. It’s like I’m working two jobs for the next few weeks. Then, I can put my full time on Strings.”
His alibi sounded plausible. Still, Miriam and Dan thought it a weak reason to ignore Grandma.
Thus began the Strings Project. The team members were intensely interested in it, so the team office was a very quiet venue.
Dan stole fleeting glances at his dream girl, but he spent the majority of his time reading technical papers and conceptualizing. He often visited with his consulting professor. Usually, he lunched with his colleagues from the Physics Department and used the time to bounce his thoughts off of them.
Vic aggressively delved into the world of neutrino research. He accumulated a roster of brilliant scientists with whom he began communicating vigorously. He had trouble keeping his eyes off of Miriam. He did not understand why his charms had not caused her to flirt with him. He was determined to find a way to make that happen. Having plenty of money, he would hop into his sports car at noon and lunch at one of his favorite bars. There, he would down a “Beer and a Burger” and flirt with the waitresses.
Miriam was the most disciplined of the three. She knew she was teamed with two very handsome geniuses, but, on purpose, she was slow to show any romantic feelings for them. As a young girl, her Mom had convinced her to wait for the right man. Her Bible had taught her to save her intimate desires for the husband God would send her way. She was always pleasant, but reserved. She concentrated on the Project during the workday and on her Music, evenings and weekends. Usually, she lunched at the Student Union, on campus, with a gang of girls from Browning Hall.
After the team meeting on Thursday, Vic received an email from one of the neutrino scientists on his contact list. It apprised him of an important symposium that was to begin the following Wednesday at the Aspen Center for Physics in Colorado. It was entitled, “An International Symposium on Neutrinos and Dark Matter in the Cosmos”. “What an opportunity,” he thought. “If I attend, I can meet some of the leading players in neutrino research and hear their presentations.” He rushed into Dr. Angelo’s office and secured permission to go.
