"I should like to see that," Galileo said.
Bellarmine said nothing.
Ruggero's eyes were fixed on Hakam and the two men with swords, still standing by the door.
"Will this new Instrument be conveying more fictitious books, or perhaps the man who claims to be Augustine?" Galileo asked.
"Impossible to say, at this point," Bellarmine replied. "But I think you already know in your soul that the book you held in your hand was not a fiction – even though it has somehow, contrary to all sense and reason, not yet been written by you."
"Tell me about the other books from the future," Galileo said. "I assume they were not all written by me?"
"That is correct," Bellarmine said, "and I wanted to talk to you about one in particular–"
"Forgive me, Excellence," Ruggero said to Bellarmine and pointed to the door. Hakam had opened it, and he and the two men were walking inside.
***
Bellarmine, Galileo, and Ruggero walked to the door, which was now bolted shut. Ruggero put his ear to the door and shook his head. "I hear nothing," he said.
The door opened about five minutes later. Hakam bid Bellarmine and Galileo to enter, and gestured to the table near the glistening chair. There were now two books upon it. One of them was in a binding Galileo had not seen before.
Hakam and the guards left the room and closed the door, leaving Galileo and Bellarmine within. Galileo went to the table. He picked up the book with the strange binding and started to read.
"This is the other volume from the future that I spoke of," Bellarmine said to Galileo after a few minutes. "It is from the very far future, hence its unusual binding. You'll see that the pages are also numbered. Your works are discussed beginning on page 27, and on many subsequent pages."
Galileo was too engrossed to speak, except to mutter, "Yes, yes," several times, as he devoured the words in the book, written in Italian. "There is much that I do not understand here," he eventually said.
"Of course," Bellarmine said, soothingly.
"How long will I be permitted this time, to read this book?" Galileo asked.
"For my part, you can stay here with me, as long as you like," Bellarmine replied. "But our host or this Instrument may say otherwise."
Galileo nodded, almost absently, and turned his attention back to the book.
Bellarmine sat at the table in the other chair, and picked up the other book, the Dialogo. He had read this more than once in its entirety, but it still thrilled him to read it.
"Do you not find it peculiar that you wanted me to read this book, but it was not here, but when we returned to this room less than an hour later, this book was here?" Galileo finally came up for air, almost two hours after they had reentered the room.
Bellarmine, still seated at the table, expanded his hands. "Your question touches on the essence of this Instrument. It apparently travels through time in much the same way as a vessel traverses the sea. If that is so – and I have seen ample evidence that it is – then if I had indicated at some future time the desirability of the text you are now reading being situated in this room, at this very time, then someone from the future might well have sought to fulfill that desire and traveled back to this time with the volume which is now in your hands."
Galileo shook his head in amazement, confusion, and just a glimmer of understanding. "I suppose that is no more incredible than what I have been reading here about how my theories have been revised by this Albert Einstein."
Bellarmine nodded. "Yes, the Jewish genius in the future who will overturn everyone's understanding of the Universe, just as you seek to do with your own observations now."
Galileo let out a great sigh. "I think I can see that the notion that the sun is the center of our system is . . . a relative thing, not as absolute as first I thought. We must take care not to make the same mistake with Copernicus as the world has been making for lo these fourteen centuries with Ptolemy."
"My faith in your power of reason has not been misplaced," Bellarmine replied.
Galileo read for about another hour, then rose. "The kaweh has apparently excited not only my mind but my digestive system. I must—"
"Of course." Bellarmine rose, and the two left the room.
***
Hakam, who was talking to Ruggero outside the room, accompanied Galileo to an indoor facility.
"The armed guards left a while ago," Ruggero informed Bellarmine. "I believe I heard them speaking in Latin, in a dialect not familiar to me."
Bellarmine raised an eyebrow.
Galileo returned with Hakam a few long minutes later. "I think I have read enough," Galileo said, with fatigue.
"Good," Bellarmine replied. "Back in Rome, I am sure that your friends are thinking we have been torturing you, or have killed you, or are threatening to do one or the other if not both. It would be helpful if you could show your face and assure everyone that you are unharmed."
"But I am not unharmed," Galileo said. "My intellect has been stretched to the breaking point, perhaps beyond. I will never be the same."
"This is the price we pay for knowledge, is it not? This is the price you want the whole world to pay – a world of people with intellect far weaker than yours – when you offer your theories, which you are so sure are true, about the Earth and the heavens. Except, you are not so sure now, are you."
"No, I am not," Galileo admitted.
"Let us take our leave," Bellarmine said in Turkish to Hakam. "We are grateful for your kindness and hospitality."
Hakam nodded. Bellarmine, Galileo, and Ruggero left the coffee house. They walked five minutes towards the port, retracing their steps, and stopped at an inn. "This is a good place for a quiet repast and a good night's sleep," Bellarmine said to Galileo.
***
They boarded the ship for their return voyage to Rome the next morning. Galileo and Bellarmine talked about nothing other than what had happened the previous day at Hakam's coffee house.
"You need not worry about the survival of your soul," Bellarmine said softly to Galileo. "Others before you have seen those Instruments and their wonders, and survived quite well."
"Others? Who?" Galileo asked.
Bellarmine pondered for a moment. "Leonardo da Vinci saw those Instruments. I suppose there is no harm in telling you that."
"Yes, I could believe that," Galileo said. "He is rumored to have made sketches, extraordinary, of flying devices, and of machines that could live under the sea."
"The rumors are true," Bellarmine said.
"And where did the Instruments come from? You mentioned Heron, St. Augustine? How long have those Instruments been in Athens?"
"That I am unable to tell you, not because I do not want to, but because we honestly do not know," Bellarmine said. "Not everyone in the Church believes the St. Augustine account – even though it was given to me by a man who claimed to be St. Augustine, and at another time Heron of Alexandria, as I told you. But some of my brethren say Marco Polo brought one of the Instruments back with him from Cathay. I do not believe that. I suppose they are not too heavy for transport across land or sea, but there is nothing I have seen in the Instruments or what they have conveyed that suggests a provenance in the Orient."
"Which of your brethren know about this?" Galileo asked.
"Mostly Jesuits," Bellarmine answered, "and a few others."
"And how long have these Instruments been in Athens?" Galileo asked.
"Unknown," Bellarmine replied, "we believe many hundreds of years. The first definite record we have of them here is in 1357 AD. I have scrutinized the works of Aquinas from the century earlier but so far I have no indication that he knew of any future books or any conveyances like the Instruments. The first Churchmen who attempted to read the books could barely understand what they read. They of course were conversant with some of the references to the Ancients. But when they came upon you – Galileo Galilei – they had as much comprehension of you as you do of Albert Einstein."
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p; Galileo trembled. "I understood not much of Einstein – most of his mathematics is far beyond me. But I grasped some of Isaac Newton, and from that vantage point, and what little of Einstein I could comprehend, I can see that my work is . . ."
Bellarmine nodded sympathetically.
"So much knowledge to be had there, in that room in Athens," Galileo said, rubbing his eyes. "Will I be permitted to return?"
"Perhaps," Bellarmine said. "We shall see."
"I must renounce my views of the cosmos? That is the price for my return to Athens? I would not necessarily be averse to that, given what I have seen, or what I think I have seen, of what the future thinks of my work."
"It is far more complicated than that, and the choice will not be mine alone," Bellarmine said.
"But even if I renounce what I have said, even if I publish not another word about my telescopic observations and their support of Copernicus, that will not stop others from following in the path I have started," Galileo said. "Even the Church lacks the power to erase what the printing press has already placed in the hands and minds of the world, or at least its scholars!"
"We do not want you to renounce anything – not now," Bellarmine replied. "Word of course eventually will indeed spread about your discoveries and your theories. We know that from the Instruments. We cannot stop that. Nor do we want to. What we want is to make sure, as much as possible, that word reaches the people at the right time, in the right way – when their souls are ready to accept it."
"But how?" Galileo asked.
Bellarmine put his hand on Galileo's shoulder. "Leave the details to us. You can continue writing and publishing as you have been doing – but try to take care to make sure you distinguish between science and its explanations, which change throughout history, and faith and its explanation of the way things truly are. In time, you will write your Dialogo – you have already read it, so you will have an advantage." Bellarmine smiled a beatific smile. "Who knows, perhaps some of our very discussions in the past few days will find their way into that fine book. But also take care not to include anything you have read from the future, because that would—"
Galileo nodded. "Yes. I understand."
"Do not worry," Bellarmine said. "We will provide you with instructions – detailing just when you should write your treatises, just when you should appear obstinate, just when you should give in. Leave it to us."
"Yes," Galileo said, still not trusting Bellarmine or the Church completely, still wary that all he had experienced in Hakam's coffee house was not somehow some ruse by the Church to control him, but vexed deeply enough by the Instruments and the books to accede to Bellarmine's requests at least for now.
[Rome, 1615 AD]
"A fine wine," Bellarmine said, and offered a glass to Barberini, the night after he, Galileo, and Ruggero returned to Rome.
"And a fine journey, too, judging by your countenance," Barberini replied. "I take it all went well with Galileo. I told you the Instruments were the best way to proceed."
"We must beware the deceptively easy wisdom of hindsight," Bellarmine said. "Our brethren showed Bruno the Instruments too, and his reaction was very different from Galileo's. He was uncontrollable. He had to be burned, as you know. Just a year after I became a Cardinal. That was sinful, I am sorry to say. It should never have happened. It must never happen again."
"But you seem sure that Galileo is on the right path," Barberini said.
"I am as sure as I can be of anything pertaining to the Instruments," Bellarmine replied.
Barberini looked at him with just the slightest quizzical expression, and bid his brother cardinal a good night. "You should sleep," Barberini told Bellarmine, "even successful journeys take their toll on the body and spirit."
Bellarmine closed his eyes after Barberini left, but his sleep was soon interrupted by Ruggero at the door. "Sorry to disturb your respite, Your Eminence," Ruggero said softly. "He wishes to talk to you."
Bellarmine nodded. He knew who the 'he' was. Ruggero left and Heron entered the room.
***
Bellarmine managed a smile and bid his visitor to sit. "Something to drink?" he asked, out of basic courtesy, though he had never seen Heron drink a drop in his presence.
"No thank you," Heron replied and sat. "But do not let me stop you."
"I have had enough for the evening," Bellarmine replied.
"Well, then," Heron said. "I came to inform you that your trip to Athens with Galileo apparently went very well."
"Apparently?" Bellarmine knew just what Heron was saying, but wanted to hear it from the time master's mouth.
"What Galileo read in Athens will temper his exuberance," Heron replied. "He will still put forth his telescopic evidence in favor of the Copernican system – which is, after all, an improvement over Ptolemy's Almagest, which had its usefulness – but Galileo will present his views in a more gradual way, which will not overly disturb the people, and will give your Church time to make this revolution in such fundamental thought a little less disruptive."
"And you know this because you have seen the results in the future," Bellarmine supplied the last line of this strange confession.
"Yes," Heron said.
"We owe you a debt of gratitude," Bellarmine said, truthfully.
"Might we discuss a way in which you could repay it?" Heron asked.
Bellarmine tried not to look surprised or put off. This was something he had not expected. "Of course."
"There is a woman at large who is bent on undoing all that I – and now, you – have done," Heron said.
"A woman?"
"Yes," Heron replied, "as dangerous to me as Joan of Arc was to the powers she opposed."
Bellarmine looked Heron in the eye. "Joan of Arc was found innocent, wrongly executed, and is a martyr to our Church, as surely you know."
"I invoke her name as an analogy of what one woman can do," Heron said, "not as someone equal in all respects to the woman who plagues me and my work. This woman also has no army at her command. But she is cunning and dangerous. I thought she died in 415 AD. But I have come to see I was wrong in that belief."
Bellarmine lowered his gaze, looked up at the ceiling, then back at Heron. "How can I help you?"
Chapter 3
[New York City, 2062 AD]
Sierra joined Max at a table near the edge of the main library in the Millennium Club, shaking her head no.
"Heron's work," Max said, darkly. "He's the only one with the power to do this, other than you, in the future – as far as you know."
Sierra now nodded, sat, and poured water for herself from a pitcher that kept the liquid at the precisely the best temperature for human consumption, regardless of the temperature in the room. She had attempted to set the sleek, time-bounding Chairs to 2262 AD, 200 years in the future, and several nearby times, somewhere she and Max could be for however long without running into themselves or anyone who knew them. But the Chairs wouldn't take those settings. "If I'm the one who blocked the Chairs from going to the future – from wherever I may be now in the future – that's even a better reason for not going anywhere near that time," she said.
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