universe will go on expanding forever so that the galaxies will draw further and further apart—or the universe will begin to contract again. How heavy and massive the universe is will determine what happens. And this is something astronomers have no way of knowing as yet.”
“But if the universe is so heavy that it begins to contract again, perhaps it has expanded and contracted lots of times before.”
“That would be an obvious conclusion. But on this point theory is divided. It may be that the expansion of the universe is something that will only happen this one time. But if it keeps on expanding for all eternity, the question of where it all began becomes even more pressing.”
“Yes, where did it come from, all that stuff that suddenly exploded?”
“For a Christian, it would be obvious to see the Big Bang as the actual moment of creation. The Bible tells us that God said ‘Let there be light!’ You may possibly also remember that Alberto indicated Christianity’s ‘linear’ view of history. From the point of view of a Christian belief in the creation, it is better to imagine the universe continuing to expand.”
“It is?”
“In the Orient they have a ‘cyclic’ view of history.
In other words, history repeats itself eternally. In India, for example, there is an ancient theory that the world continually unfolds and folds again, thus alternating between what Indians have called Brahman’s Day and Brahman’s Night. This idea harmonizes best, of course, with the universe expanding and contracting—in order to expand again—in an eternal cyclic process. I have a mental picture of a great cosmic heart that beats and beats and beats...”
“I think both theories are equally inconceivable and equally exciting.”
“And they can compare with the great paradox of eternity that Sophie once sat pondering in her garden: either the universe has always been there—or it suddenly came into existence out of nothing ...”
“Ouch!”
Hilde clapped her hand to her forehead.
“What was that?”
“I think I’ve just been stung by a gadfly.”
“It was probably Socrates trying to sting you into life.”
Sophie and Alberto had been sitting in the red convertible listening to the major tell Hilde about the universe.
“Has it struck you that our roles are completely reversed?” asked Alberto after a while.
“In what sense?”
“Before it was they who listened to us, and we couldn’t see them. Now we’re listening to them and they can’t see us.”
“And that’s not all.”
“What are you referring to?”
“When we started, we didn’t know about the other reality that Hilde and the major inhabited. Now they don’t know about ours.”
“Revenge is sweet.”
“But the major could intervene in our world.”
“Our world was nothing but his interventions.”
“I haven’t yet relinquished all hope that we may also intervene in their world.”
“But you know that’s impossible. Remember what happened in the Cinderella? I saw you trying to get out that bottle of Coke.”
Sophie was silent. She gazed out over the garden while the major explained about the Big Bang. There was something about that term which started a train of thought in her mind.
She began to rummage around in the car.
“What are you doing?” asked Alberto.
“Nothing.”
She opened the glove compartment and found a wrench. She grabbed it and jumped out of the car. She went over to the glider and stood right in front of Hilde and her father. First she tried to catch Hilde’s eye but that was quite useless. Finally she raised the wrench above her head and crashed it down on Hilde’s forehead.
“Ouch!” said Hilde.
Then Sophie hit the major on his forehead, but he didn’t react at all.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I think I’ve just been stung by a gadfly.”
“It was probably Socrates trying to sting you into life.”
Sophie lay down on the grass and tried to push the glider. But it remained motionless. Or did she manage to get it to move a millimeter?
“There’s a chilly breeze coming up,” said Hilde.
“No, there isn’t. It’s very mild.”
“It’s not only that. There is something.”
“Only the two of us and the cool summer night.”
“No, there’s something in the air.”
“And what might that be?”
“You remember Alberto and his secret plan?”
“How could I forget!”
“They simply disappeared from the garden party. It was as if they had vanished into thin air . . .”
“Yes, but...”
“... into thin air.”
“The story had to end somewhere. It was just something I wrote.”
“That was, yes, but not what happened afterward. Suppose they were here . . .”
“Do you believe that?”
“I can feel it, Dad.”
Sophie ran back to the car.
“Impressive,” said Alberto grudgingly as she climbed on board clasping the wrench tightly in her hand. “You have unusual talents, Sophie. Just wait and see.”
The major put his arm around Hilde.
“Do you hear the mysterious play of the waves?”
“Yes. We must get the boat in the water tomorrow.”
“But do you hear the strange whispering of the wind? Look how the aspen leaves are trembling.”
“The planet is alive, you know ...”
“You wrote that there was something between the lines.”
“I did?”
“Perhaps there is something between the lines in this garden too.”
“Nature is full of enigmas. But we are talking about stars in the sky.”
“Soon there will be stars on the water.”
“That’s right. That’s what you used to say about phosphorescence when you were little. And in a sense you were right. Phosphorescence and all other organisms are made of elements that were once blended together in a star.”
“Us too?”
“Yes, we too are stardust.”
“That was beautifully put.”
“When radio telescopes can pick up light from distant galaxies billions of light-years away, they will be charting the universe as it looked in primeval times after the Big Bang. Everything we can see in the sky is a cosmic fossil from thousands and millions of years ago. The only thing an astrologer can do is predict the past.”
“Because the stars in the constellations moved away from each other long before their light reached us, right?”
