The Curious Case of the Missing Head

by Gabriel Farago

  ‘But it wasn’t always that way, was it?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’ Stolzfus turned to face the major and looked at her pensively. ‘It was a struggle. A big one. In a way, it was time travel.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I had to leave behind the almost medieval world of my Amish family with its strict, unshakable beliefs, and travel into the present and open my mind.’

  ‘And how did you do that?’

  ‘Through imagination. I began to travel ...’

  ‘How?’

  ‘In my mind. I travelled in my mind and I still do, to the far corners of the universe, observing and looking for answers. And when I find something of interest, I write down what I see using mathematics.’

  ‘All those equations on the blackboard you are so famous for,’ said the major, raising an eyebrow. ‘That no-one can understand?’

  Stolzfus laughed. ‘That’s a little harsh,’ he said. ‘I can think of at least half a dozen people who can,’ he joked. ‘Without mathematics, we can’t discover those laws of nature I spoke about. It’s through mathematics that we can lift the veil, solve the mystery and find those eternal truths that make it all work. That’s the only way we can find proof and understanding and that, to me, is one of the greatest achievements of homo sapiens.’

  The major smiled. Stolzfus’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  ‘I believe man’s extraordinary development in what is really quite a short period of time, is to a large extent due to imagination,’ continued Stolzfus.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Well, let’s have a closer look at this,’ said Stolzfus, warming to one of his favourite subjects. ‘Homo sapiens emerged about three hundred thousand years ago in Africa. There were waves of early migration to the Levant and into Europe, but according to recent evidence based on genomics, they died out without leaving a trace in the genome of humans living there today. It wasn’t until what is called the “recent dispersal” between seventy and fifty years ago that modern humans began a lasting coastal dispersal and colonisation throughout the world. Now, that’s not such a long time ago, is it, when we consider what has been achieved? In fact, I think it’s astonishing when we look at how far we’ve come, where we came from, and where we’re at today—’

  ‘Because we are getting very close to a unifying theory of everything?’ interjected the major. ‘And when that is achieved, we shall know the mind of God?’

  Stolzfus was impressed. ‘My, my, you have been paying attention. Precisely! And I firmly believe that will only happen because of imagination. And imagination has played a critical role in human evolution and it all began with Mitochondrial Eve.’

  The major shook her head. ‘You lost me. Please explain.’

  ‘Well, extraordinary advances in human genetics, especially genome sequencing, tell us that all living humans today have one common matrilineal ancestor: Mitochondrial Eve. I hasten to add, this has nothing to do with biblical Eve, but refers to a woman who lived somewhere in Africa approximately one hundred and fifty thousand years ago and all humans living today descend through their mothers and the mothers of those mothers in one unbroken line from one woman. The concept is much more complicated than that and there are many popular misconceptions, but it will do for now.’

  ‘Incredible!’

  ‘But back to God. Mankind has made staggering progress since Mitochondrial Eve walked across the African plains and into the Rift valley. We have discovered the laws of nature that explain and govern almost all that is going on in the universe. However, I believe there is one remaining mystery to solve, one last frontier we have to conquer.’

  ‘And what might that be?’

  ‘It’s all about time. If we understand the function of time at the very beginning of the universe—’

  ‘The Big Bang, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. If we understand that, we can pull it all together and explain everything.’

  ‘And what do those laws of nature you keep referring to tell us about that?’ asked the major.

  ‘They tell us that there was no time before the Big Bang.’

  ‘That’s mind-boggling! How come?’

  ‘Because of the nature of black holes.’

  ‘I need an explanation.’

  ‘All right. Come with me. Let’s travel back in time to the very moment of the Big Bang. As we race back in our imagination to that crucial point in time, the universe becomes smaller and smaller until it turns into a tiny black hole of extraordinary density. With me so far?’

  ‘I think so ...’

  ‘Good, because now comes the really interesting bit and it has to do with those laws of nature we’ve been talking about.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Those laws tell us, well, they dictate that just as with modern-day black holes we know exist and are out there, time must stop inside a black hole wherever, or whenever it may have existed. And that applies to that tiny black hole at the beginning of the universe we just spoke of. What this means is this: there was no time before the Big Bang. Time itself began with the Big Bang. It follows that if there was no time before the Big Bang, the Big Bang didn’t have a cause.’

  ‘Why?’ asked the major, shaking her head ‘How does that follow?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  ‘Not to me it isn’t.’

  ‘Come on, fighter pilot ... if there was no time before the Big Bang, it follows that there was no time for a cause to exist in; simple!’

  ‘To you perhaps. To me, I think faith and going to church might be simpler,’ said the major, laughing.

  Stolzfus shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Once this irrefutable logic-genie is out of the universe bottle, there’s no way back.’

  ‘Conclusion?’ asked the major, looking serious.

  ‘Faith and belief are very personal things. We must each make our own decisions in that regard.’

  ‘And have you, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  Stolzfus looked at the major, a troubled expression on his face, and took his time before replying. ‘I’m still struggling,’ he said. ‘Despite all the science, all the logic ... I’m not explaining this very well, am I?’

  ‘Are you suggesting science isn’t enough?’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s the conclusion that troubles me.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘If we follow what we know today to its – some would say – inescapable conclusion, we come up against something disturbing.’

  ‘‘That pesky logic-genie again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what does that logic-genie tell you?’

  ‘That the universe created itself spontaneously out of—’

  ‘What?’ interrupted the major.

  ‘Nothing!’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The laws of nature tell us how. But we are still missing a few crucial elements I mentioned before about the role of time at the very beginning. I firmly believe when we solve that, we’ll have a unifying theory that will explain it all. And that will be the supreme achievement of mankind since Mitochondrial Eve gave birth and started it all.’

  ‘Because then we shall know the mind of God?’

  ‘Perhaps ...’

  ‘Speaking of time,’ said the major, looking at her watch. ‘It certainly flies when you talk about the beginning of time, and a time when there wasn’t any time. It’s almost time to get ready to go, Professor. I could sit here and talk to you for hours, but our car is most likely already waiting downstairs to take us to Westminster Abbey.’

  Aladdin looked at his watch. It was almost time to go. Phase one of the assignment had been completed without a hitch. Blissfully comatose, Father Alexopoulos was lying in his bed after having been drugged with a powerful narcotic that would keep him sedated for hours.

  Aladdin looked in the mirror for the last time. Not bad, he thought, as he examined his long false beard streaked with grey, his flowing black cassock and peculiar stiff hat worn by East
ern Orthodox priests. Then he reached for Father Alexopoulos’s wallet and printed invitation on the bedside table, and put them carefully into his pocket. Now for the final touch, he thought, and put on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and then slipped the heavy gold chain with the large cross over his head. Done. Father Christos Alexopoulos is ready to attend the Hawking memorial service.

  Just before he left the room, Aladdin held up his right hand and adjusted the specially designed ring on his middle finger that was soon to play a vital part in the operation. Perfect, he thought. Then he stepped outside, hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the doorknob and locked the door behind him, and walked downstairs to catch a cab. The others had left several hours before to take up their positions and wait for his signal. The second, most critical phase of the assignment had just begun.

  12

  Westminster Abbey: 15 June, 11:30 am

  Aladdin adjusted his earpiece and got out of the cab. Developed in China and little known outside that country, the earpiece was part of a sophisticated, encrypted communications system that worked through the mobile phone network like an app and allowed Spiridon 4 to talk to one another without arousing suspicion or the possibility of being overheard or traced. Anyone noticing Aladdin speaking would assume he was talking to someone using a bluetooth device.

  ‘I have arrived,’ said Aladdin as he walked slowly towards the long queue at the Great West Door.

  ‘I can see you,’ said Nadia, standing amid a group of spectators on the pavement watching the arrival of the dignitaries about to attend the service. ‘I’ve been here for almost an hour. I don’t think he’s arrived yet.’

  ‘Good. I was trying to get here before him.’

  ‘You look very convincing.’

  ‘I should hope so. Everyone in position?’

  ‘Yes. The ambulances have arrived and are exactly where we thought they would be – stationed behind the Abbey. There are two of them.’

  ‘Good. I’m about to go in.’

  As he approached the entrance, Aladdin could see several stony-faced Metropolitan Police officers wearing body armour and armed with semi-automatic carbine sub-machine guns, watching the crowd. A stark contrast to the solemn service he was about to attend, he thought. He could hear faint organ music, becoming louder. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the printed invitation addressed to Father Christos Alexopoulos and showed it to the security guard.

  ‘This way, Father,’ said the guard and pointed to a temporary screening device erected at the entrance just inside the Abbey. ‘It works just like the ones at the airport. Please put your phone, wallet and anything with metal into the basket over there, and then walk through.’

  Aladdin put his mobile, glasses case and Father Alexopoulos’s wallet into the plastic basket, and walked through without a beep. He collected his things and then bowed towards the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, who were receiving members of the Diplomatic Corps. Several uniformed ushers were directing the guests towards their allocated seats in various sections of the Abbey, which was by now beginning to fill up. Aladdin looked at his watch. The service was due to start in twenty minutes.

  I hope he isn’t late, he thought, walking into the shadows near the entrance. From there, he had a good view of the screening device and could clearly see everyone walking through.

  ‘May I help you, sir?’ said a voice from behind.

  Aladdin turned slowly around and looked at a little man, obviously an usher, standing in front of him. ‘I’m waiting for someone,’ said Aladdin. ‘We agreed to meet here ...’

  ‘Ah. But please, you must take your seat soon.’

  ‘I will, thank you,’ said Aladdin as Richard Wagner’s ‘Good Friday Music’ from Parsifal filled the Abbey, giving the solemn occasion an almost festive air.

  ‘He just got out of a car,’ said Nadia. ‘Andersen is with him, as expected.’

  ‘Perfect,’ replied Aladdin and adjusted the ring on his right middle finger, careful not to activate the intricate mechanism operating a retractable spur containing a powerful drug. From recent photographs of Stolzfus, Silvanus had estimated Stolzfus’s weight and adjusted the dose accordingly. If all went to plan, the nerve agent should take effect within twenty minutes or so after being administered, which could be done with a tiny pinprick. If the dose was too strong, it could cause instant death. If it was just right, it would cause symptoms that mimicked a heart attack, but caused no permanent damage. It was a fine line with no margin for error, as little was known about the drug, which had been sourced from the Czech Republic. Developed by Russian scientists as part of a Soviet program codenamed ‘Foliant’, the drug was a by-product of the deadly Novichok, frequently used by Soviet agents in the field.

  The traffic around Stansted Airport had been unusually heavy and it took them longer than expected to reach Westminster Abbey. Andersen got out of the car first and opened the back door for Stolzfus.

  ‘I always wanted to visit Westminster Abbey,’ said Stolzfus, looking up at the imposing facade, ‘but I didn’t think it would be on an occasion quite like this.’

  ‘We must hurry; there’s little time,’ said the major, looking anxiously around and pointing towards the entrance where the Lord-Lieutenant of Greater London and the High Sheriff of Greater London were about to enter the Abbey and go through security. A seasoned agent, she knew that getting out of a car was always a dangerous moment, especially with so many people milling around. She was therefore keen to get Stolzfus into the Abbey as quickly as possible.

  Aladdin instantly recognised Stolzfus’s distinctive head of unruly hair as he slowly walked through the security device. Here he is, he thought and began to walk towards the Great West Door to meet him. Aladdin knew there was only one perfect moment for something so delicate as he was about to attempt, requiring split-second timing. Miss it, and it was all over with no second chance, or worse still, a disaster on his hands.

  Aladdin began his breathing exercises to help him focus and keep calm. He reached Stolzfus just as the professor was collecting his things out of the plastic basket, carefully watched by the major who was standing next to him.

  ‘Professor Stolzfus, what a pleasure,’ said Aladdin. Stolzfus turned around and looked at the priest with the long beard and strange black hat, standing in front of him looking like some medieval apparition.

  ‘Christos Alexopoulos. We met last year in Chicago,’ said Aladdin in a distinctive, Greek accent. As he extended his hand, he activated the mechanism on his ring, which raised a tiny, sharp metal spur. Instinctively, Stolzfus extended his own hand in reply. As they shook hands, the tiny spur on the ring pierced Stolzfus’s palm, feeling like a pinprick or little splinter, which Stolzfus didn’t even notice. ‘Perhaps we can talk later?’ said Aladdin, withdrawing his hand.

  ‘I hope so ...’ replied Stolzfus politely, trying to remember the meeting and the man.

  ‘We must take our seats,’ said the major, pointing to the waiting usher standing in front of her. Aladdin took a bow, stepped back into the shadows and smiled. Phase two had just been successfully completed. He turned around, walked back through the screening device pretending to take an urgent phone call, and left the Abbey.

  Stolzfus recognised many familiar faces as he followed the major to his allocated seat almost right at the front and sat down. The service, conducted by The Very Reverend Dr John Hall, Dean of Westminster, was about to begin. Then everyone stood as the Royal Representatives were conducted to their seats and the choir began to sing the Introit.

  At first, Stolzfus listened to John Donne’s beautiful words: ‘Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening into the house and gate of heaven, to enter into that gate and dwell in that house, where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light ...’

  Then, his mind began to wander. Longing for a glorious afterlife, he thought. How futile. Stardust we are, and to stardust we shall return. There is no afterlife, no last judgement, no heaven and no hell. We only hav
e this life and to be remembered like this, here, is about as good as it gets. This is how we can live on: through our deeds. Stephen, you have been a fortunate man. Perhaps one day, I too—

  Stolzfus’s reverie was interrupted by a hymn as all present began to sing ‘All Creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with us sing. Alleluia, alleluia!’ while the procession moved to designated places in the Quire and the Sacrarium. Then the Dean of Westminster began to deliver the Bidding as everyone remained standing.

  ‘We come to celebrate the life and achievements of Stephen Hawking in this holy place where God has been worshipped for over a thousand years,’ began the Dean, ‘and where kings and queens and the great men and women of our national history and international influence are memorialised ...’

  Suddenly, Stolzfus began to feel dizzy. As he looked up, the columns around him began to spin and crazy flashes of light obscured his vision. He had difficulty breathing and pressed his right hand against his chest. The Order of Service booklet fell from his hand and his whole body began to tremble.

  Noticing his distress the major, who was standing next to him, looked at Stolzfus. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, reaching for his arm to steady him. Before she could grip his arm, Stolzfus lost consciousness, his knees gave way and he fell to the ground, hitting his head on the edge of the chair. The major fell to her knees beside him and reached for his wrist. By now, Stolzfus was lying perfectly still on the stone floor. His eyes were closed, his mouth open.

  He isn’t breathing, thought the major, assessing the situation. He’s gone into cardiac arrest. Don’t panic!

  The major looked up at the worried faces staring down at her. ‘Heart attack!’ she almost shouted. ‘Someone call an ambulance!’ Then she loosened Stolzfus’s tie and began to administer CPR, first by compressing his chest and then exhaling air into his mouth to keep up the blood supply to his brain to avoid serious damage, or worse. The major knew the next few minutes were critical. Life was hanging in the balance and permanent damage was a real possibility. By now, the Dean of Westminster was kneeling beside the major, holding Stolzfus’s hand and quietly praying.