“It stands for the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa,” the Captain responded quietly.
The Dominee had turned and walked. As he went, his grumbles about incompetence, corruption and lack of honour were said loud enough for all those in the charge office to hear.
The Dominee had heard the Captain saying in a voice measured to reach him too, “I remember Kruger’s father from when I was a young boy and neither he nor his son were a policeman like me… or a policeman like any of you.”
Gert had explained it all to Deon, and the two men were outraged, but they had played all of their cards. There was nothing to do now but put this matter aside and prepare to bury their friend.
Chapter 29
Dr. Louw was not comfortable with technology. In fact, he hated it.
His misgivings aside, he had discovered that the new CCTV system at the school, donated recently to oversee the security of computers contributed by the SKA project, was quite a useful instrument.
With it he had solved some small mysteries around the school—minor pilfering by pupils, some graffiti culprits, smokers and other anti-social behaviours. But he battled to operate its menus.
Frans van Doorn was one of the less popular of the boys. Introverted and disinterested in sports—a very real social disability—he occupied the lowest rung of social hierarchy among the learners. But he was a whizz on computers.
Ahead of the science fair meeting, Deon had spotted Frans in the corridor and asked him for a quick review of the CCTV system, to show him how to switch between the camera frames and a few other useful details.
Dismissing the boy, he’d watched the monitor with growing alarm as the parking lot filled up and overflowed, multitudes streaming into the lecture room.
He cut to the lecture room and saw that it was extremely full already, with no more seats available. There were twenty minutes to go before the talks were even scheduled to begin.
Among the familiar faces, he saw a divide; a polarization of those who upheld traditional values and those who were enamoured of ‘boastful human pride’, as he thought of the delving into the higher sciences.
Then he saw the police Captain arriving in plain clothes. Tall and arrogant, with a confident swagger that made Deon smell the acrid sweetness of his own sudden adrenaline-fueled armpit sweat.
There was no sound on the CCTV pickup, but now he needed desperately to see if the Captain had relented and was going to do the right thing.
He made some adjustments to the settings that the boy had taught him and then hurried down to secure a seat for himself.
“My boy is very enthusiastic about the project,” the Captain was saying to John Fiske, the science teacher and convener. “He’s in the tenth grade and comes home every day with fantastic facts. I heard that our guests here today do our small town a great honour and I wanted to hear for myself…”
He noticed the school Principal close at hand, sidling closer, straining to hear what he was saying while pretending not to be listening or to even have noticed him. And he knew too that the Dominee and the Principal were in conference and aligned on every matter. In fact, he knew about every secret meeting the men had ever held with his now departed colleague.
The Captain raised his voice a little to ensure that Louw would hear him, just to rile the man.
“I wanted to hear our guests explaining truths that we so rarely get the chance to hear out in such a backwater. They do our town a great honour,” and then he grasped Deon’s elbow and Deon whirled with genuine surprise to face him. “Hello, Dr. Louw, Malusi Motsoaledi; you probably don’t recognize me out of uniform.”
“Oh... uhmm… yes, yes, Captain Motsa…” he stammered the name badly and gave up midway through, the unexpected confrontation robbing him of his poise.
“Oh, please, call me Malusi,” the Captain said in a measured and modulated accent, “it’s easier on the European tongue.”
Motsoaledi had worked hard to lose his African accent in favour of a cultured one he intended to exploit as his career took him onward, and this presumption ate at Louw and all of Louw’s peers too.
“An uppity kaffer,” they called him.
“We are very honoured and grateful that you are hosting such an event with such esteemed dignitaries at your school today, sir,” the Captain goaded.
“Thank you,” Louw replied without meaning it, his lips pulled into a hard, thin miserly line that only grudgingly gave up the terse response. He did not invite the Captain to call him Deon.
The presumption and insolence of the man was too much to take. And without another word he drifted into the crowd seeking a familiar face. The familiar face he saw was his former pupil and son of his late friend, JJ Kruger. And right next to JJ stood the boy who’d started all the trouble at the school, Dara.
A testing tap on the microphone sounded through the amplified speakers, and John began introducing the speakers and the topic being discussed.
“We’re especially honoured today to enjoy not just one but two internationally acclaimed scientists from quite different fields—and they’re related. I mean that it’s all related, both the topic and the talkers.”
There was a light chuckle from the audience.
“And, just as our experts study aspects of reality that are quite apart from one another, the nature of science is that fields intersect in some extraordinary ways, so that the topics chosen for this morning are not arbitrary, but intended to tell a cohesive story.”
Marsha and Al, sitting in comfortable lounge chairs, nodded agreement.
“The initiative that brings our small town vast knowledge and talent is of course the point of departure for these addresses. As most of you already know, the SKA’s focal point is here in Carnarvon, and its findings will have vast implications for humanity well into the future. From it, we expect to uncover not just the origins of the universe but the patterns, evolving elements, molecules and chemicals that make it up, interrogate gravity waves; and of course, the nature of hypothesized dark matter and dark energy.”
He paused momentarily.
“So, there is one unbroken chain starting from the Big Bang through quantum mechanics, that gives rise to physics, and physics gives rise to chemistry, which in turn is the basis of biology, and of course biology ultimately works through natural selection on this planet—and most likely across the entire cosmos—to give rise to complex evolved life and civilization as we know it. In turn, civilizations build cultures. Our culture has built technologies that are delivering staggering results that contradict our oldest philosophies and confirm our least believable imaginings.”
He paused another moment.
“And then there is us, here, today. Our lives are full of all the exciting and sometimes mundane realities that make up what we call ‘being alive’. For me personally, being alive goes a step further than a paycheck, bills, taxes, romantic dates, having children, entertaining or even planning my holidays. For me to feel alive, I actively and daily have a regime of marvelling at the vastness and intricacies of that which we glibly call reality. I hope that our guest speakers here today can infect you with some of that same appetite for wonder. So, without further ado, I hand the microphone over to Professor Marsha Martin.”
A vigorous round of applause pounded out a confused rhythm from seventy percent of the attendees; the remainder sat stoically, unmoved, stony faced, arms folded or hands pointedly in laps.
“Thank you, John,” Marsha responded, adjusting the microphone to her mouth. “Some of you may know that my colleague and co-speaker here today, Alok, is also my husband. And that our son, Dara, is with us today also. Africa is an exciting place and coming here has been challenging and exhilarating all at once.”
From the audience, Dara beamed at his mother. He was on crutches and still moved gingerly.
“My family is unfortunately separated to different parts of the world; a symptom of our careers that we must accept. There is perhaps a perception that scientist
s are tremendously wealthy. Although it is true that we feel very wealthy in that our work rewards us in non-monetary ways, alas, for the most part, it attracts pay no better than that of a tradesman. This means that we live apart and when we’re in the field, we’re quite far from easy commuting routes. So, I am especially happy today to have Al here and visiting us for a short time. I am particularly pleased to share this platform with him today, the first time in our careers. I wish to thank John and the school for facilitating this and ingeniously devising a topic that ropes us both in.”
Seventy percent of the audience smiled, the rest did not.
“I am aware that the town has, in these past days, experienced the tragic loss of a beloved citizen from one of its longest-standing families. I propose that we take a minute of silence to contemplate this tragedy in our own way, and send our most sincere condolences to his son, JJ, and daughter, Sonja, who have so kindly and bravely taken time to attend… and of course the bereaved widow, Johanna, who understandably chose to not be here today.”
Deon, the Principal, was disgusted by the sham of her concern. He made some show of using the silent moment to leave. Some of the thirty percent who had folded arms also got up, tapped wives on shoulders and left too. Their vacated seats were gladly taken by others who had stood and clapped a few moments earlier.
As the silence came to its end within the lecture room and the distant microphone’s muffled voice began explaining that there would be a talk followed by question and answer sessions, the small group of deserters met in the foyer outside.
“The impertinence of it,” Louw told them. “I thank you for taking a stand by walking out with me.”
“We only came here to express our disgust,” one of the men said, and others nodded their heads.
“The Dominee and I both asked them to kindly not hold this meeting today; they couldn’t be bothered. There is no dignity and decorum in these people. They’re without decency.”
As he spoke, they began to drift together away from the meeting, down the corridor, furious and unsure of their next move but happy to have registered their discontent.
“So I will try to give some brief idea of the challenges we face when we consider interstellar travel. Alas, some of you might find it tedious to stay focused and I won’t blame you for nodding off…”
A good chunk of the audience was smiling encouragingly.
“But, if you manage to stay away, when I’m done, I’ll turn you over to the real star of the show—Alok. The reason I must go first is that I’ll set up the necessary foundation of facts that will make his speculations that much more interesting…”
“I’ve got some facts too, you know!” Al chirped in from the side-lines, and a ripple of chuckles ran through the crowd. John felt vindicated for standing his ground and letting this proceed. The lighthearted banter was proving to be the ideal tonic a grieving family and community might need to take their mind off tragedy.
Marsha smiled warmly. “Trust me… I’m the boring nerd in this family,” she assured the crowd. “Al will dazzle you with the wild and crazy possibility that human beings are some product of a space-faring race out in the cosmos. No doubt you’ve all seen the television documentary series, Ancient Aliens, about beings who—according to the pundits—allegedly came to Earth and seeded it with life? Or, at least, fast-tracked human evolution in a technological direction away from our basic ape cousins. I’m not accusing anyone of believing it, but it makes for a fun speculation.”
Like a tennis match, the grim-faced remainder of the thirty percent shook their heads with irritated vigour. The arguments and questions they had prepared to tackle these two scientists with needed no speeches or lessons to precede them. In their opinion, it was a monumental waste of time going through the speeches in order to get to the question and answer sessions.
“So…” Marsha began. “Space. It is rather well named, because there is quite a lot of it.”
This was met with a sea of smiles and a smaller proportion of set faces, hardened to resist any attempts to woo them.
“I think it’s quite hard to comprehend just how much space there really is. Let’s start like this. The Earth is forty thousand kilometres around, that’s its circumference, so it has a diameter of just less than thirteen thousand kilometres. Step back into space and you’re looking at thirteen thousand kilometres from side to side. But the Sun has a diameter of nearly one comma four million kilometres. To provide perspective, imagine a ball that is one meter high, as tall as my knee. That gym ball represents our star, our Sun. On this scale, the Earth is smaller than a one-centimetre marble. In terms of volume, one million three hundred thousand Earths could fit into the Sun.”
She let it sink in.
“Now, our Sun is just a star close by, and stars are just suns far away. Our Sun is quite average; not the smallest, but a long, long way from being the biggest. In the Milky Way, the galaxy our solar system is in, Canis Majoris is the biggest, and its diameter is a truly staggering one thousand one hundred and thirteen billion kilometres—it has a diameter a thousand times bigger than our Sun. This means that five hundred and twelve million of our Suns could fit into that one single sun. On a scale where the Earth is a marble and our Sun is an exercise ball a meter tall—one of those pilate balls at the gym—Canis is a kilometre-high mountain. Table Mountain down in Cape Town is that height and the Earth is a marble next to it.”
By the looks on faces in the audience, it was going to take a lot of pauses just to set the most basic foundation to begin discussing interstellar travel.
“Okay—so these are the bare basics to start getting a handle on how big space is. Next fact: As my late and great colleague, Carl Sagan, once remarked, there are more suns in the universe than there are grains of sands on all the beaches of the earth. That’s a big number. To spell it out, it is ten to the power of twenty-two, or a one with twenty-two zeros behind it. And ours is just one of them.”
She wrote the number on the blackboard: 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000.
“So, if our Earth could fit into one of those suns one point three million times… Sheeew… That’s a lot of matter, a lot of stuff out there. And then there are dust clouds that probably push the amount of matter in the universe up by a significant figure again.”
“Come on Marsha,” Al chimed in and there was a murmur of amusement through the audience; even the stony expressions nodded in agreement. “I’m only here for weeks,” he teased.
“We have quite a way to go still, I’m afraid.” Marsha warned. “I unfortunately need to hurt your minds quite a bit still.”
Someone got up, muttering about the absurdity of the numbers being discussed, and left the room. His seat was taken. Marsha watched him go, allowing him to leave in silence so as not to inflame his clearly volatile mood. When he was gone, she shrugged, and there were more mild chuckles.
“Okay—so we have all this matter, all this stuff, in stars and gas clouds, but how much space is it set into? Remember, this part of the discussion is about us traveling between the stars, so I’m trying to set the scene here for the magnitude of the universe so that my complaining husband can give you a sense of whether ancient—or more contemporary—aliens have popped by for tea or to abduct the impressionable for a quick medical.”
A mobile phone rang and was cut, and Marsha stole the moment to sip water. The ringing prompted others to check their phones and turn them off.
“If we took all that matter containing all matter in the universe and represented it with a single grain of sand, how large a room would we set that grain into? The answer is staggering.”
She turned to the board and drew a cube, then wrote 32 km on each of its sides.
“We’d need a room thirty-two kilometres in every direction, including the height of the ceiling… for the non-metric, that’s a room fifteen miles deep by fifteen miles wide by fifteen miles high….”
With the blank faces staring back she re-stated it.
“H
ard dimensions to imagine… to put it more simply—if you stood on a small hill, fifteen miles on a side would be about the distance you can see to the horizon and fifteen miles high is about three times as high as a Jumbo Jet flies. So, into such a vast arena, you’d place a single grain of sand and smash that grain into trillions…” She then pointed at the number on the board again, 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, “Of pieces, each representing a sun. Any questions?”
There were no questions, just an ocean of bewildered looking faces.
“Okay. So, like I said, space is big, really, really, really… reeeeeally big. The moon is a little under four hundred thousand kilometres from Earth—and it takes light just over a second to cover that distance. It took our fastest spacecraft three days to make the same trip. The Sun’s further away; one hundred and fifty million kilometres—or around eight light minutes. You’ll see that I sneakily introduced a new measure of distance there. The moon is a light second away, the sun is eight light minutes of distance away. We need this new form of measurement to start looking at the distances to the stars, because kilometres will not make sense out there in space.”
She pretend-yawned in playful pantomime, playing to some expressions of bewilderment reflected from the audience. “I warned you… I know it’s tedious, but it’ll be worth it to stay awake.”
The established mix of expressions still suggested that the majority was thoroughly enjoying the details.
“Let’s press on to the juicy bits that Al will share. When you look at the Southern Cross here in the Southern Hemisphere, there are two pointer stars; the one closest to the cross is Alpha Centauri. It is the second closest sun to the earth after our own Sun. It is four-point-two light years away. The light you’re seeing has been traveling at three hundred thousand kilometres a second for over four years to strike you in the eye. It’s a humbling thought, so savour the effort the stars have gone through to entertain you. Never look up again without thinking about that, because all others are very much more distant than that.”
A Trojan Affair Page 24