“Okay, I’m getting it now,” she responded. “So what you’re saying is that I was right when I said that the police car is sitting still.”
“Ha!” Paul crowed. He threw an admiring glance at Antonietta, and then said, “Touché, Contessa! You have captured the essence of relativity, perhaps even better than I, and you have at the same time proven your superior debating skills.”
Antonietta had by this time clearly grown tired of this line of discussion, thus Paul changed the subject, saying, “Could you tell me a little bit more about Padova?"
"Yes, of course. Let's see, well, you may not know this. The city is sort of surrounded by various branches of the Bacchiglione River. They're kind of a pain now, but in former times they were somewhat like a transportation network because the easiest way to travel was by water. Oh, and this is something that will interest you, Padova is filled with Roman bridges that cross the rivers and canals. I think that there are at least a half dozen of them. I don't know their names, except the Ponte Molino, which is near where I lived."
"Oh, that's interesting!"
"I thought you would be interested, seeing as how you are obsessed with old things with cracks, Professore," she replied, teasing him.
"I admit to being interested in old structures," he responded with a smile. "What kind of shape are these bridges in?"
"Oh, they are all in excellent shape on account of the fact that they have all been rebuilt."
"Oh, so they're not original. Why is that, Antonietta?"
"Goodness, the pressure! Seriously, I don't know. They were destroyed by the invading Huns or somebody. I'm not sure. Padova was more or less completely razed during The Middle Ages. That, of course, is the very reason that Venezia came into being. A lot of people moved to Venezia as a means of protection against the invaders. Since there were no hills in this part of Italy, they moved to the low lying salt flats off the coast. So as Padova declined, Venezia grew."
"Right," Paul replied knowingly. "This IS wonderful. I feel like I'll be arriving in Padova much more knowledgeable about the city. You will be a fabulous tour guide, I'm sure."
"It's about time," she replied insolently.
"Why?"
"You have no idea how deflating it is to be an Italian citizen being lectured in your own country by an alien!"
"Ha ha!" Paul chuckled uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?" she answered sullenly.
"Oh, sorry, I wasn't crowing. It's just that, in the United States the word 'alien' means from another planet instead of from another country. It just sounded funny to me."
Brightening, she responded, "Oh, okay. Well, that's what I know about Padova, Professore. Besides, I’m not yet convinced that you aren’t from another planet."
Ignoring her obvious jab, he volunteered, "Perhaps we could discuss our objective - the Basilica of San Antonio, as laid out in the poem. What do you know about it?"
"Not much, I'm afraid. I never paid much attention to it before now. It's kind of strange to me. But then, most basilicas in this part of Italy are rather strange. They're Byzantine."
"So, I am given to understand that the relics of St. Antonio are within the Basilica. Is that correct, Antonietta?"
"I believe so. I think that construction of the church was begun immediately upon his death in, when was it, 1231?"
"Yes," he replied, "And now, I believe that we are prepared for our visit to Padova."
August 1609
Galileo strode down the street somewhat imperiously, impatient to see the progress that had been made on his lenses that day. His latest attempts to produce a usable perspiculum seemed to be going quite well. Up ahead he could see Padre Marco coming towards him along the street. “Buongiorno, Padre,” he said with good humor as the two converged.
“Ah, buongiorno, Professore,” Padre Marco replied. “Como va?”
“Very well, thank you, Padre,” Galileo replied.
“Today is the Holy Day of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary! Have you forgotten?”
Galileo had indeed forgotten, he had been so absorbed in the development of the perspiculum, but he covered his error perfectly, replying, “Of course not, Padre. I was just on my way to service at the San Antonio.”
“Ah, then come along with me, Professore. I am just going to give a small oratory at the Scrovegni Chapel. Please, come along!”
Aware that there was no escape, Galileo fell into stride with the cleric and followed him into the chapel not far away. Once inside Padre Marco headed for the altar, and Galileo took a place among the throng that had gathered for the service. He was immediately taken by the paintings by Giotto on the walls. It had been more than a year since he had been inside the chapel despite the fact that it was so near to his house and The Bo. He had forgotten how beautiful the paintings were. Eventually his gaze went higher, to the ceiling above. Suddenly, he was transfixed. His mouth opened wide, and he said aloud, “The stars!” to no one in particular, but he spoke the two words so loudly that people around him all turned to see what the bustle was about.
“Scuzate,” he said in response to the myriad of irritated stares, and he bounded from his seat into the street, thinking to himself, “The stars! Yes, that’s it. I have to train the perspiculum on the stars. God grant me a clear night tonight!”
1997
Antonietta guided Paul to the inn that she had selected for their overnight stay, and as usual, she had chosen well.
They began their tour with a short trek to the Basilica of San Antonio.
"Let's go see San Antonio's bones," she suggested, and so saying, she hastened off to the entrance to the Basilica.
Once inside, Paul clapped his hands softly in surprise, exclaiming, "My, it's lovely!"
"I hadn't realized that you had not been inside before," she replied.
"Nope. First time," he allowed and, gazing about in wonder, he suggested, "It reminds me of the San Marco in Venezia, although better preserved."
"Yes, the San Marco is quite a bit older, plus it's been ravaged by the effects of centuries of flooding, unlike the San Antonio," Antonietta replied.
"Look! The domes are fabulous. I'll bet they used them like they did in the San Marco, as a means of projecting contrapuntal a cappella religious arias."
"Yes, I've actually been here for a performance on one occasion," she replied.
"Guido would be proud," he said to himself.
"Guido?" she responded blankly.
"Guido d'Arezzo. He invented the modern musical scale in what - 1025? Something like that. He wrote a book called Micrologus."
"You are really nuts, you know that, Paulo?"
"Sorry, I'll keep my comments to myself in future."
"No! Please don't stop! I am learning a great deal," she replied with a smile, "Besides, I find it charming."
"Oh, well...when you put it that way..." he replied, and he smiled back at her. "Come on, let's go see San Antonio, lest we forget why we are here."
The basilica turned out to be a veritable treasure trove of art, relics, and gorgeous architecture. But despite their best efforts they could find no clues. Finally, after an hour and a half, Antonietta, said pensively, "I'm beginning to think that our Galileo was a sadist, Professore."
"I agree," he replied. "The truth is - this 'pilgrimage' seems more and more like a wild goose chase."
"And what, pray tell, is a wild goose chase?"
"That's American vernacular for a waste of time," he replied dejectedly. "Seriously, have we found one single clue from the sites mentioned in the poem, Antonietta?"
"Well, perhaps no, at least technically speaking. But think about it, Paulo. Everywhere we have gone, we have gotten just a little bit closer to solving the puzzle. So while the clues haven't been obvious, like an inscription on a wall in a basilica, our sadistic poet Signore Galilei has nonetheless imparted some very important information to us thus far, don't you think?"
"Well, perhaps you are right. However, I have draw
n a blank in this basilica. So what do you say we tour some other spots in the city that may somehow be connected to the puzzle?"
"Certamente," Antonietta replied happily, "It's been a while, and I do love this city."
Together they visited the Scrovegni Chapel, as well as some of the Roman bridges that dot the city. Afterwards, they stopped in the main square for an aperitif. Paul sat quietly, his mind going over all of the things they had seen today.
"Now I understand why you said that Giotto is the Father of the Renaissance," Antonietta said. "That chapel is amazing!"
"Don't tell me you've never been in it before," Paul replied incredulously.
"Well, er, yes, I have, once many years ago. But to be honest, I had no idea what I was looking at. When it is put in terms of the historical events of that time, it makes sense to me."
"Ah, what did you like the most, Antonietta?"
"I suppose that it was the sense of harmony. The whole interior is laid out in an organized fashion, as if it was carefully planned out. Most of the art from that period seems to be placed somewhat haphazardly, and while the Basilica of San Francisco in Assisi is better than most, this one seems to be better still."
"I agree," Paul put in.
"And you know what tops it all off for me, Paulo, it's the stars in the vaulted ceiling, those carefully placed golden stars on a background of velvety blue," she said wistfully, as if she could see them at that moment.
Staring at her momentarily, that strange prescient look came over him. Abruptly jumping up and down in a small jig, he turned a complete circle and exclaimed somewhat redundantly, "That's it!"
Antonietta simply glared at him disapprovingly and, glancing about to see if there were others nearby who had observed his juvenile behavior, she queried flatly, "What’s IT?" She of course recognized that this was his Padovan epiphany, but she nevertheless found his means of displaying it deplorable.
"The stars...that's it," he replied, "Yes, it has to be. Give me the copy of the un-Hell map that we made…no, give me the poem...no, just give me everything.”
"Okay, but you really should have at least two more glasses of wine before you try dancing again, Professore. You dance dreadfully."
"Forget that. Just give me everything," he repeated impatiently and, seeing her reticence, he offered, "Okay, I promise, no more dancing. Will that do it?"
She giggled hopelessly and said, "I was just kidding. Here," at which she summarily handed the papers over to him.
He grasped them and began studying them, flipping from one to the other in rapid succession. "Ah, here it is," he said, pointing with an outstretched finger. "Look at this," and he shoved a sheet in front of her. It was the poem.
She took the paper and stared at it blankly, saying, "The poem...so what?"
He grabbed it back from her, glanced at it and immediately handed it back, commanding, "Fourth stanza, last line - read it."
She counted down and then recited, "'With semblance marked unto his sign'." She looked up, glanced away for a moment, and then looked back at him questioningly, finally continuing, "I don't get it, Paulo."
"The stars! You said it - the stars! That's it - it's his sign in the stars, Antonietta!"
"Oh, my..." she replied, slowly absorbing the cryptic significance. "Oh, wait a minute...oh, I see. It has something to do with his astrological sign, right?"
"Exactly! The map is related to his astrological sign!"
"Whose sign?" she answered blankly.
"Read the line above it," he replied.
"'Tracing out MS abodes'," she read aloud. "It's Galileo's sign! When was he born, Paulo?"
"February 15, 1564. What astrological sign is that, Antonietta?"
"Uhm, it's Aquarius, I'm pretty sure."
"Excellent! Let's go,” he chortled affably. She seemed to be about to ask where, but he was already out of his chair, striding rapidly away. "Come on!" he called to her over his shoulder.
She thought to herself, "Good thing he's out of reach," but then she thought better of it. "I'm coming," she replied in apparent resignation. "Where are we going?"
"To the Bo, of course. I should have thought that would have been obvious," and he was by now pacing so quickly that she could hardly keep up.
"Could you please slow down, Professore?"
"Oh...sorry," he replied, momentarily slowing so that she could catch up. "I apologize. I'm just excited."
"I can see that," she answered, coming alongside him. "What are we going after at The Bo?"
"We need the library," he proffered.
"Right. What do we need in the library, Paulo?"
"We need a map of the constellations, my dear contessa," he responded patronizingly.
"I knew that," she said, as if she really had known it. "Okay, this way - you're going the wrong way, genius."
"I thought we were going to The Bo," he said impatiently.
"We are, but you were going to the old Bo. It's gotten much bigger since Galileo's time. There are 65,000 students at the University of Padova today. The university is spread all over the place, and the library is this way."
"Got it," he responded obediently, and turned to follow.
Once there, Antonietta knew exactly what to ask for at the information desk. Accordingly, within minutes they were perusing an astronomy book. "Ho, wow, look at that!" Paul said, examining a page with constellations on it. Antonietta leaned forward, and he pointed to Aquarius.
Antonietta stared at the constellation for a few seconds. Suddenly frowning, she inquired, "I'm confused, Paulo. Isn't that the same picture you showed me yesterday in Roma?"
"Yes, but yes and no," he replied enigmatically. "This is the map I showed you yesterday," and so saying, he shoved a piece of paper towards her.
Her jaw dropping in amazement, she shrieked, “OH…MY…GOD!” Eventually, she blurted in confusion, "What is this? I don't get it. This is ridiculous. This is a map of the places that Galileo lived. What has that got to do with Aquarius, Professore?"
"Exactly, Antonietta, exactly! What has that got to do with Aquarius!" he repeated with obvious elation.
"I asked first," she shot back, realization slowly dawning on her. "This is crazy. Are you telling me that a map of the places that Galileo lived is identical to the star map of the constellation of Aquarius?"
"Yep, there it is, plain as day, I'm afraid," he replied with conviction. "Not only that, Galileo was born in Aquarius." He glanced at her, then looked back at the two drawings and whistled under his breath. "This just keeps getting stranger all the time."
He then stared upward and said wistfully, "Galileo…you, you genius, you...you infernally incredibly intelligent son of a blankety-blank-blank something or other...what in heaven's name are you trying to tell us?" He frowned piercingly at Antonietta and then imparted, "Damn, this is fun! This just might be the most fun I’ve ever had in my entire life!"
A smile slowly spreading across her face, she emitted a convivial chuckle, confessing, "I do not know the term blankety-blank-blank, and I suspect it is not English, but I can gather what you mean by it. I couldn't agree more. At this moment I am probably more confused than I have been at any time since we found the poem, but I would rather be here than anywhere else on Earth."
That night they dined in high spirits. Tomorrow would surely bring more confusion, of that they had no doubts. But now the confusion no longer seemed so totally confusing.
January 1610
Galileo pulled his eye away from his telescope for a moment, thereby giving himself time to recover. Gazing at the stars night after night was exhausting; he had to pace himself carefully. This night boded well, and because the Moon was in Aquarius, he was anxious to uncover new mysteries. And since he himself was born within the sign of Aquarius, he returned to his star gazing with considerable anticipation.
Scanning the sky, he decided to examine the planets. Focusing in on Jupiter, he pondered the enormous distance that Jupiter would have to be from the e
arth if Copernicus' heliocentric theory was indeed correct. Squinting to help bring the image into focus, Galileo at first thought there was something wrong with the lenses on this occasion. There were three small objects encroaching on the view field, and they were strung out in a straight line emanating away from Jupiter. "Probably a reflection," he said to himself, thus he cleaned the lenses and checked again - same thing. He carefully cast about to see if there were any extraneous lights in the city that could be interfering with his view. "No, nothing," he muttered absentmindedly to himself. There they were, those three dots, just as before, and more importantly, he now realized that they were in the plane of the ecliptic! This was no aberration! Were these stars? He'd never noticed them before. He examined them for more than an hour. They appeared to be stationary, but since an idea was beginning to form in his mind, he drew a small sketch showing their locations and resolved to examine them again on the following evening.
1997
Paul awakened to pounding on his hotel room door, a muffled voice calling from without, “Paulo, wake up! It’s Antonietta. Wake up, Paulo!” He bounded from bed and grabbed the door without a thought, yanking it wide open. Antonietta gasped and, placing her hand over her mouth, she stood speechless at the sight of him.
Grinning absurdly, he blabbed, “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a man in his undershorts?” and so saying, he turned and grabbed the bedspread, summarily wrapping it about his torso. “Come on in, Contessa. What’s so important to make you pound on my door at the crack of dawn?”
Antonietta exclaimed, “Giovanni’s been robbed!”
Galileo's Lost Message Page 20