Cataclysm

By Donald Steinberg and Lucian Kaminsky

New Summary

This exciting new science novel threatens the World with devastation. The author offers a plausible explanation for the many poorly understood natural phenomena of the past such as the numerous changes in Magnetic North, the sudden death of the Dinosaurs, the Ice Age, etc. This same expanation forbodes the imminent devastation to the World and the United States in particular. The reader is challanged with the probability that this may not be Science-fiction and could occur at any time."

OLD SUMMARY

This exciting new Science-fiction novel threatens the World with devastation. The author offers a plausible explanation for the many poorly understood natural phenomena of the past such as numerous changes in Magnetic North, the sudden death of the dinosaurs, the Ice Age, etc. This same explanation forbodes the imminent devastation to the world and the United States in particular. The reader is challenged with the probability that this may not be Science-fiction, and could occur at any time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 1, 1999
• ISBN: 9781462811786

Donald Steinberg

Donald Steinberg, MD The Ohio State University A.B., M.D. 1945 Outstanding Scholar-Athlete in Western Conference (Big Ten) National Football Foundation Distinguished Citizen Award, 1990 Instructor in Surgery, Downstate Medical School, New York Associated Pofessor of Surgery, Medical College of Ohio American Board of Surgery, American College of Surgeons, Lucas County, Ohio, Hall of Fame Author of "Expanding Your Horizons" -- The Ohio State National Champion football team 1942

Book preview

CHAPTER I

The Washingtonian copyboy, J.J., his bag filled with newspapers, came swinging around the corner of the editorial floor.

"Morning edition of the Washingtonian—Hot off the press!" he bellowed.

Hi, Linda. Catch. He threw the folded paper high enough that she had to stretch her arms above her head to catch it. She accidentally spilled some of her coffee on her skirt.

Nice boobs! laughed J.J. as he rounded the corner to the next office.

I’m going to kill that bast...that kid some day!

Just then her boss, Victor Conan, arrived. Victor laughed when he saw what was going on.

Every day it’s something else with that pimpled faced kid. I’m really going to kill him. She handed Victor his newspaper, still fuming, as she tried to blot her skirt.

Well, let’s see what’s going on in the world, as he leaned back from his desk humming an aria from Don Giovanni, the opera he had heard last night. He scanned the paper without paying much attention to the news as he looked for some topic for his next feature column which was due in ten days. This done, he began searching through a pile of recent science magazines for tidbits of information that might be of popular interest.

Victor was the Science Editor of the Washingtonian, Washington, D.C.’s most popular newspaper. For years, his articles were considered outstanding by the public, either as a daily column or as a special feature of the Washingtonian’s national syndication. His daily column, Science Through My Eyes, was printed annually into a book that was used nationally as a supplemental High School text. His feature articles were frequently applauded by scientists in their respective fields.

After about an hour without success, he glanced up from his reading and ran his fingers through his thinning brown hair. Moving the pile of magazines to the edge of his desk, he glanced back at the newspaper that lay open to page 10. His eye stopped at the list of new presidential appointees and below another list of coming governmental meetings. As he scanned the list, he read, David Luria, 29, Astrophysicist—Science Oversight Committee.

Who is David Luria? I’ve never even heard of him. He’s only 29 years old. To be appointed to the Science Oversight Committee at his age has got to be a first! Victor’s position as Science Editor required extensive knowledge of Who’s Who in the science world. He had never heard of David Luria and admitted to himself that he didn’t know too much about this committee except that it was popularly known as SOC.

Geez, only 29 years old. Man, I was just three years out of journalism school when I was 29 and he’s in SOC. Must be one of those geniuses. I really hate geniuses. They make the rest of us look really bad.

Victor was a man in his late fifties, somewhat obese, but not enough to detract from his appealing mature appearance. Linda could not remember a day when Victor did not arrive at his office attractively dressed in the latest fashions for men of his age. This morning he was wearing a dark blue sports jacket, with a pale blue shirt, tan flannel slacks and a stunning tie. Victor, are you giving up your newspaper job to become a clothes horse, she asked smiling appreciatively? Glad you like it, Linda. I’m having lunch at Hilton with Mrs. Powell and some other newspaper publishers.

Victor had been widowed for several years, and unfortunately, there were no children from an otherwise very happy marriage. Victor could never understand his misfortune but rarely spoke of it—the best doctors, the best hospital, assurances that the operation would be successful, and the finality of the grave remarks of the surgeon after the surgery. As time passed his life became more and more associated with the Beltway figures in Washington. To the local Fourth Estate, the Beltway had become an emotional and political icon rather than just a super highway. The newspaper and political Washington had become his life.

As was his usual custom while he gathered his thoughts, he glanced up and looked out on the city. From the small window in his office, he could see many of the heroic looking government buildings: The Supreme Court, the National Art Gallery, The Smithsonian, and even a large expanse of the Capital Oval between Congress and the White House. Victor loved this city. Every morning as he walked from his parking space, a block from his office, to the Washingtonian, he felt a renewed vigor just being here—the power center of the world. In newspaper circles, having a window in his little cubicle of an office was a sign of prestige, and he relished the symbolism as much as the fact of it.

Leaning back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, he wondered. Who is this kid, David Luria, the latest appointee to the Science Oversight Committee? Whoever heard of him? I admit I don’t know a hell of lot about this committee either, but I do know it’s a cut above anything else in Washington politics.

The Science Oversight Committee, or SOC, wielded tremendous influence on the President and the Congress. The committee members were frequently asked to make recommendations for much of the pending science legislation, from the funding of basic sciences to health and social issues. He looked back through the list of governmental meetings that were coming up and noticed the SOC committee meeting was set for the 29th of the month, three weeks from now.

Maybe I ought to chance an interview with him. He knew that this would be easier said than done. Interviewing members of this committee was problematical as most of the members were world renowned scientists in their respective fields and had little interest or need for further public acclaim, or for that matter, any further media exposure. For some unexplained reason, Victor was under the impression that there were rarely any comments about this committee in any publications. It was as if a wall of silence had been built around SOC for many years. He made up his mind to dig deeper and sat up resolutely.

Linda, go through our archives and find me any material you can on David Luria.

Linda was Victor’s private secretary. Her desk was only a few feet away from Victor’s.

She was young, in her early twenties, with auburn hair that framed her facial features beautifully. She was lovely and smart with a natural wit that Victor truly enjoyed, original and at times slightly sarcastic, frequently making him laugh or smile.

I think searching through our vast resources should take some time. I’m not really sure, maybe about fifteen or twenty seconds, she responded to his request tartly. Going through the archives actually meant merely turning to her computer with her back to Victor to begin her computer search by logging onto the newspaper’s Web server. She worked diligently as she tied into the Library of Congress by typing in a few keys and the letters D-A-V-I-D L-U-R-I-A. The computer screen soon displayed David Luria, Professor of Astrophysics, Harvard University.

You’re right about David Luria. He’s an Astrophysicist and he’s at Harvard. You know you really read well. Your last visit to the eye doctor must have really helped, she twitted Victor, but he decided to let it pass.

He’s an Astrophysicist! He’s so far out that he probably rides around in a mental space ship. If they are astrophysicists, Linda, that’s what they do. Well, what does it say about him?

Hold your horses, cowboy! I’m punching up the area of scientific publications. You may have to wait while this Model T warms up. I know I could walk faster than this modem. When are you going to request another one for me—like something from 1945. I read some place that computers were up and going then. By the way, Victor, I was down in property management last week trying to get them to give me a new computer. I got a little ticked off when this guy said, No. Quietly, I just told him that my boss was going to come down and beat him up. I think I ought to tell you ahead of time, the girls in the secretary pool told me he used to play offensive tackle for the Redskins."

Great, laughed Victor, I’ll put on my old high school helmet and charge him head on. But first call 9-1-1.

Waiting for the information to come up on Linda’s screen left time for Victor to wonder. Where have I heard that name before? Luria...Luria? I wonder, could he be the son of old Rabbi Abraham Luria who delivered that marvelous speech after one of the Presidential installation dinners in Washington several months ago?

Victor turned to Linda again, Linda, hold up on the bibliography of publications for a minute and switch over to Luria’s personal bio.

OK, fearless leader, but I want you know that there are inquiries to the Library of Congress coming in from all over the world and we were lucky to get on line so easily. But I’ll do it if you say so.

To Linda, Victor was off and running. She loved this about Victor. His perception of the area of information that he really wanted was invariably on the mark.

In about five minutes, her aging dot matrix printer began to crank out David Luria’s biography slowly. She separated the copy carefully from the printer roll, tore off the pesky perforated margins of the computer paper, and with a slight swish of her hips, she walked all around the tiny office and then presented the copy over to Victor with a proud flourish. "Here, Master Writer, is my ancient computer’s gift to the Washingtonian’s Science Editor—David Luria’s life in a nut shell, so to speak."

Victor glanced quickly through the abbreviated biography and his interest piqued further.

David Luria is the only son of Rabbi Abraham and Sarah Luria. He completed his education in religious studies at Yeshivah University in New York at the age of15 and then received a combined degree in higher mathmatics and physics at the age of19from Princeton University. His doctorate thesis, "New Techniques for Measuring the Earth’s

Rotational Movements " was awarded the coveted Albert Einstein Award from the National Academy of Science. At the age of 26, he was appointed the Chaired Professor of Astrophysics at Harvard University.

I must be really losing it, thought Victor. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of David Luria. Linda, where in the hell is my address book? he asked in his most exasperated tone of voice. I wish you wouldn’t keep straightening up my desk every morning before I get here. I can never find anything I’m looking for."

Well, I do it to make sure you really need me. So every day I arrange all of your mail and magazines and that little jerk’s newspaper on your desk. I did it yesterday, and the day before and today. How can you read so much? I put your address book in the back of the top right hand drawer of your desk, and, of course, you always forget where I put it. Victor, your loss of memory must be an early sign of aging. Getting that grey dyed out of your hair can’t cover up the Alzies, she chided him.

Victor chuckled appreciably. He really enjoyed their verbal interplay as well as her perfume as she bent over the desk to hand him his address book. Her nearness made him feel his youth again.

Victor leafed through his Life Preserver, a well worn book of addresses and private phone numbers that he had collected over the years. Let’s see, he thought. Ah, yes, here it is—The Senate committee for the National Science Foundation. Senator George Morgan, New York, (Dem.) chairman.

One ring after dialing 447-8800, a very soft female voice replied, Senator Morgan’s office. How may I help you?

"This is Victor Conan over at the Washingtonian. I wonder if the Senator is free to talk with me?"

Hold the line, please, and I will connect you with his appointment secretary.

Phillip Condor speaking, how can I be of assistance to you?

"Phil, is George available to talk with me? This is Vic Conan at the Washingtonian."

I think he just disconnected his last call. Please hold, Mr. Conan.

Senator Morgan speaking.

"George, Vic Conan over at the Washingtonian. I am not sure this is too important but the President just appointed a David Luria, the Professor of Astrophysics at Harvard, to the Science Oversight Committee. I was wondering whether you could help my chances of meeting him sometime the week-end of the 29th when the committee meets again?"

Senator Morgan paused a few seconds to jot down Victor’s request. I don’t think that will be too difficult, Vic. I’ll have Phil call the President at Harvard and I am quite sure it can be arranged.

Sorry to have troubled you, Senator.

No trouble, you have always been a good friend, Vic.

Victor put down the receiver and said, Linda, do you think you can tie into the Library of Congress again and get me that list of David Luria’s publications? I’ll take you to lunch this week if you can find which libraries in Washington have his publications in their files.

I’ve got a better idea, said Linda. My car is sick. Why don’t you take me to my computer graphics course at Georgetown University tonight? The building is across the street from their main library. That library never closes. I’ll attend my class while you get up to speed on Professor Luria. I should be finished by 9:30.

That night, Victor parked his car in the closest parking lot and they walked together to toward the Journalism building and the Library. I’ll be standing on the front steps of your building at 9:30 so you won’t have to walk in the dark, he said. Linda thanked him by squeezing his arm as she entered the Journalism building for her class.

Victor crossed the street and walked into the well-lit library. After orienting himself to the layout of the library, he proceeded to the section on planetary sciences. Victor spotted the student librarian, Young man, do you think you could give me a list of Professor David Luria’s publications and their locations?

I will be happy to give it a try, Sir. He turned to his computer terminal and after a few minutes, the student librarian gave him a printout of David’s publications that filled two single spaced pages.

At random, he requested three of the articles from Planetary Science, and sat down at a desk to read them. The first was almost entirely on Advanced Calculus and made no sense to him whatsoever. During his Junior year at College, he recalled vividly that he almost flunked out because of Calculus, and it was an important reason for changing his major. To this day, Calculus was still almost a complete mystery to him. The second article was about the aberrations of axial rotation of the Earth. "Now this is very interesting," he whispered to himself although he had little understanding about the mathematical proofs in the article. The publication concerned a well-studied alteration in the axial rotation of the Earth called the Chandler Wobble.

I’ve heard many times people remark about how an event would figuratively shake the World, but that’s the first time I have ever read that the Earth really wobbles, Victor said in astonishment! As he read further, it seemed that these alterations of rotation really had no significance as their rates and amplitude changes were small and very infrequent. They had been studied from the beginning of the 20th century. Nevertheless, Professor Luria had carefully pointed out that there were times when there were definite increases in the amplitude and frequency of the wobbling and he repeated this fact several times throughout the article. This could be his hot button to concentrate on, Victor mused, if or when he were able to interview David, Victor Xeroxed the article and looked at his watch.

Holy Moses, it’s almost 9:30. I don’t want Linda out alone in the dark!

He arrived at the steps of the Journalism building just as Linda appeared.You just made it, Mr. Punctual, she said, Any luck on Luria?

Maybe, Victor answered. Linda sensed a vagueness in his answer.

As they were driving back to her apartment, Linda talked almost continuously about her class in computer art. This is going to be the wave of the future in serious Art. There is no way that people will not come to appreciate the thousands of shades of color, the depth of the dimension and the ability of expression using this medium. Victor, this is much more than just Graphic Art, it’s incredible.

He glanced at Linda, and began to worry as to when he would be losing Linda to another profession after she graduated. She rattled on her praise of the pioneers in this field, a Charles Csuri, in particular.

He let out a sigh of relief when Linda interrupted her soliloquy and said very seriously, It will probably take me at least three to four years to complete these courses just going to night school.

Linda, Victor said as they turned into the Outer Beltway, I read a very interesting article by David Luria in one of the periodicals. His special interests are the aberrations that occur while the Earth revolves on its axis. Did you know the Earth actually wobbles? It doesn’t wobble much but it does wobble, and sometimes it wobbles a lot more than at other times.

Well, I think that’s kind of cute. Maybe that explains why my bowling ball wobbles as it rolls down the bowling alley. Sometimes it hardly wobbles at all but at other times it wobbles a lot, joked Linda, before it flops into the gutter.

Victor laughed and said, I wish you could be more serious. This could be important stuff. Then he added, I think that this will be a good topic for conversation if I get the opportunity to talk to Luria. I wonder why the President appointed him to this committee? He sounds a little ‘off the wall’.

What do you mean ‘off the wall’? asked Linda.

Well, there was an editorial in one of the magazines describing the New Turks in Astrophysics and apparently David Luria is one of their leaders. They seem to be very disenchanted with many explanations in Astrophysics that have little basis other than that’s the way things are. Luria, in particular, has proposed many new concepts that suggest a threat to our planet as we know it. And furthermore, the Editor quoted Luria stating that he believed the basic tenets of Physics, Observation and Experimentation, may not be applicable in the Science of Astrophysics. Observation and Experimentation may be applicable only on Earth.

I was taught that the Earth is billions of years old. How could anything threaten the Earth? questioned Linda.

Well, for one thing he emphasized many times that there must be a better explanation for the cause of these wobbles and in his work he has noted at times increasing amplitude and frequency of them. He even mentioned in passing, the biblical Flood as an Earthshaking catastrophe and a rather recent geological event possibly related to these wobbles."

That would sure make him off the wall", answered Linda.

Victor’s car glided into a parking space in front of Linda’s apartment. As it was quite late in the evening, Victor walked her to her front door. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Linda. Let’s see if you can be on time for once.

With an equally sarcastic tone she countered, Goodnight, Mr. Conan, and thanks for taking me to my class at Georgetown. Don’t worry. I’ll be at the office before you. I always am. The door closed behind her.

Touche’, chuckled Victor as he walked back to his car thinking how fortunate he was to have a woman like Linda as his secretary. But his real concern was David Luria’s remark that the story of the Flood in the Bible may be a recent world-wide catastrophic event. As far as he knew, even the religious scholars had viewed the Biblical Flood only as retribution and here was one of America’s most noted astrophysicists relating it to Science.

CHAPTER II

Every morning during the week, Angela Mason, Dr. Fischer’s secretary, arranged the mail addressed to the Dept. of Natural Sciences, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., in separate stacks: University conferences and meetings, Applications to the department, Literature concerning the natural sciences, and various miscellaneous letters addressed to Dr. Fischer. Angela had been Dr. Fischer’ s private secretary for almost as long as he had been Dean of the department. When Angela carried his mail into his office, she placed her hand on his shoulder as she often did when they were alone. They had been lovers for many years but for a number of reasons had not married. For years, her ailing Mother demanded constant devotion and attention. During the years when Angela should have been free to choose her personal life, she was subjected to What a wonderful daughter I have as long as she pleased her Mother exactly as her Mother wished, and What a cruel person I have for a daughter whenever Angela displeased her. As it so often happens, Angela was caught by this maternal induced guilt unable to do anything until after her Mother passed away in her sleep. By this time, she was already over thirty years old and welcomed her independence. During the next year, she became Horace Fischer’s secretary. In the same vein, Dr. Fischer enjoyed having solitary hours to himself. Most evenings each week, he had become accustomed to reading the latest developments in his former chosen scientific field of Geology, compiling old letters and photographs of his family and his life as a young man in the mountains of Montana, and hoping to have the time some day to write his autobiography...some day.

In the intimacy of their offices, she addressed him in the first person. Harry, there’s a letter from the University of Edinburgh that I think may interest you.

What’s in the letter, Angela? he asked as he reached back and held her hand on his shoulder.

I know how concerned you are about improving the faculty in Climatology. The Dean and also the Chairman of the Climatology Department are recommending a recent graduate for your consideration, a Dr. Charles McVoy, she answered.

Improving this department was only one of many ongoing problems for Dr. Fischer as Dean of Natural Sciences. His position was particularly demanding for he had to balance his annual budget but still provide the University with the most outstanding scholars in this broad field that included Geology, Astronomy, Paleontology, and Climatology. He was particularly troubled as the area of Climatology was not currently headed by a noted scientist. The present, aging department head was only two years from retirement and had lost his ability to stimulate the other members of the department. Climatology at Harvard was lagging behind the efforts of other universities. At a recent meeting of the university Deans, during the session devoted to annual publications from each department, serious questions were raised about Climatology.

Dr. Fischer’s search for a replacement to head the department had become increasingly frustrating as it was totally fruitless. None of the applicants who had submitted curriculum vitae during the past year were able to satisfy his requirements. None were published extensively, nor were their reputations world class. He had written or spoken to all of the Chairmen of Departments of Climatology whom he knew personally and had come up empty handed.

Thank you for sharing my problem, Angela. I must find some way to improve our Climatology. Millions of dollars are being fun-neled into this area by the government at the present time. They fully recognize the growing need for basic research in this science and few significant grants are coming into our department. That has to change.

As a young man, Harry Fischer lived on a vast cattle ranch in Montana. Coming to Harvard as an undergraduate was a new experience, changing an outdoor life for one of a quiet Eastern university campus. As an undergraduate, he had two passions: One was as a member of Harvard’s debating team and the other in trying to maintain his ties to the outdoor life of his youth. Avidly, each month he read the National Geographic in addition to all the nature magazines he could find with articles devoted to life in the Rockies.

During his Sophomore year, his parents did not survive an automobile accident when their car slipped off an icy road in the mountains. This signal event closed the Western chapter of his life. Harry settled his family’s affairs, sold the ranch, and returned to Harvard. There, the debating team was his love and its members were his closest friends.

After his graduation, he decided to pursue the one area that could bring him closest to his youth: Geology. Dr. Fischer remained at Harvard after completing his doctorate in Geology some 30 years ago and then stayed on as a research fellow.

Early in his career he was young and eager to make a significant contribution in Geology, and found a niche in an area that was still unexplained. He spent years studying sedimentary rock fascinated by its upheaval for in many areas the layers of rock were often almost vertical instead of the usual layering of the strata parallel to the surface of the land. For a time his theories about the vertical upheaval of the strata had caught the attention of the leading scientists in Geology. But that time had long since passed. Newer, more detailed studies had replaced his earlier efforts which now seemed primitive. The new theories had more depth and were more acceptable to modern Geological analysis. After Harry Fischer’s brief burst of stardom, his interpretations never went further.

Near the end of Harry’s years of investigative research, the old Dean of Natural Sciences noted a trait in Harry’s personality that

Harvard sorely needed at the time: Someone who could organize the members of the department so their individual investigations would be more coordinated to the best interests of the University. Dr. Fischer met with the Dean and the President of the University both of whom persuaded him to change the course of his life and devote his years to Harvard in a new capacity, away from scholarly pursuits, and into administration and management. To his own surprise, Harry found he was particularly well suited to this new role and when the Dean retired, Harry became the Dean of the Department of Natural Sciences.

In addition to his duties as Dean, Dr. Fischer was also a vice-president of the University. Dr. Fischer’s given name was Horace but his close friends and colleagues continued to call him, Harry. He vastly preferred Harry. Probably due to his years on the debating team in undergraduate school and his warm personality, he had a remarkable aptitude for working closely with committees, with the student body and with other officials of the university. His persuasive warmth and enthusiasm often changed the opinions of people with whom he was involved and they would find themselves moving to a course of action that may never have been even remotely acceptable earlier. Harry easily recognize the best interests of the University, and looked after them carefully.

Climatology had evolved into a major science over the past five decades. Predictions of future weather patterns were essential in all activities in any way dependent upon atmospheric changes. Economics, Agriculture, Aviation, the Space program, and regional weather forecasting were only a few of these areas that were in urgent need of accurately predicted weather.

For a long time, Harry could easily see the challenges of this comparatively new science. Thwarted by his previous efforts to find a suitable chairman for this department, in the back of Harry’s mind was the admonition to rebuild from the ground up. On his desk before him lay the recent letter from Dr. Lemon, the Chairman of Climatology at the University of Edinburgh, as well as a letter from their Dean of the Dept. of Natural Sciences. Both had written enthusiastically about a certain Dr. Charles McVoy, a recent doctorate in Climatology. They felt that he was well schooled in the traditional disciplines of Climatology but, in addition, they were impressed by his inquisitive mind that might lead to significant advances in Climatology in the future. Their praise was unusual in its effusiveness. Harry was pleased to read in the letters that Charles McVoy was older than the average doctoral candidate and had studied at the University of Edinburgh for many years. To Dr. Fischer, this suggested great seriousness of purpose. Perhaps this letter was good fortune, a sign, that might presage a solution to his restructuring dilemma. Yes, new young blood, this would be the direction he would take as the strategy to rebuild the department. He decided to have lunch with President Logan and discuss rebuilding the department with new young men and women instead of accepting a long list of uninspiring men or women, already in the field, who had solicited positions at Harvard.

The main dining room of the Faculty Club at Harvard was arranged with round tables of six or eight. With good separation between tables, conversations at one would not interfere with conversations at another. For special more personal luncheons there were tables-for-two beneath the windows of the room or in the corners. The President and Harry were seated at one of these smaller tables. While they were being served, he carefully outlined his plan for rebuilding the Department of Climatology.

Sam, Harry addressed him familiarly in deference to their long friendship, I’ve been agonizing over our Department of Climatology for many months and have not yet found a suitable replacement for the Chairmanship. I admit that is becoming more and more urgent to find someone who will be able to lead this department. As you know, this is a field that is really burgeoning in importance. However, I am convinced we should take a longer look into the future. It may take more time but it may be much more fruitful. In the long term, I believe we should rebuild the Department of Climatology from the ground up.

President Logan listened attentively as Harry went on, and

Logan was very encouraging. He liked the idea of bringing young men and women into the department. Harry, I agree with you. Your basic strategy to reorganize the Department of Climatology is on the mark. It is also very exciting. We must encourage more young men and women to join our faculty—people with the genius of our own David Luria. It may take several years longer to strengthen Climatology this way than by seeking out already established scientists, but I feel it is worth the effort. This strategy could assure a successful future for the university in this field. You can count on my support

Harry left the Faculty Club elated that the President was so encouraging. Yes, he thought, I’ll start with this Edinburgh fellow. I’ll write this Charles McVoy and offer him a position as an Associate Professor in Natural Sciences. I have a gut feeling this could be our new beginning." With the decision made, he felt a lighter step in his stride as he crossed the campus to his office.

Angela smiled approvingly when Harry returned to his office. She could instinctively feel his optimism. Angela, President Logan was very encouraging when I presented my plan for Climatology.

That’s wonderful, Harry, I’m so happy for you. You will find those young men and women your looking for. I know it. They hugged each other—this time not so much as lovers, but as colleagues.

CHAPTER III

Rabbi Abraham Luria had just returned to his office from his weekly seminar with his senior students at the El Torah Seminary in New York City. He rested briefly and sat quietly at his desk. For more than thirty five years he had devoted his life teaching traditional interpretations of the Old Testament. The study of traditional interpretations included, not only the religious writings of living scholars as well as the sages of past generations, but also the Oral Tradition from the time of Moses. This oral explanation of God’s commandments was eventually transcribed and named the Talmud, that enormous tome of Common Law extrapolated from Moses’ original explanations. Rabbi Luria’s personal popularity was widespread. He was in high demand by national organizations as a keynote speaker at conferences and meetings across the nation. Under the glass covering of his desk was a personally cherished memento, a 18 year-old invitation to him to be a guest speaker at a world wide conference at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland.

His thoughts wandered back to this Edinburgh conference that was held to commemorate the birthday of Sir Charles Darwin, the famous English naturalist, the foremost proponent of the Theory of Natural Selection. In time, Natural Selection was accepted overwhelmingly by the world’s scientists as the definitive evolutionary process of plants and animals living on Earth. This theory was so connected to Darwin that those scientists who espoused it were known as Darwinists. Darwin theorized that there was a slow progressive evolution of animals and plants best able to compete and survive in their environments. Each species’ alteration was followed by the survival of the fittest—with modern Man at the apex of this evolutionary process.

In addition to his vast knowledge of Theology, he was thoroughly familiar with the essence and critiques of the Steady State Theory of Creation and propounded his personal arguments against the prevailing Big Bang Theory. He had published many articles about the relationships between basic science and religion and steadfastly maintained that many scientific conclusions were irrational or illogical.

One of his wry comments concerned the logic and rationale of the time-space warp which proposed that the time of an event would actually occur earlier to a person on a speeding space ship than to a person standing still on Earth. Jokingly, he used a quotation from Alexander Pope, the great English poet, to the effect that The Child is Father to the Man. He acceding to the theory that if a child remained stationary and his Father boarded a space ship moving away at speed of light, eventually, the child would be older than his Father. Rabbi Luria had the utmost respect for Albert Einstein’s intellectual brilliance but he frequently used this type of humor in his speeches to theologians.

Luria’s depth of understanding of Traditional Judaism, along with his scientific knowledge, made him the most respected living authority on the relationship of religion to natural science.

He had arrived at this highly respected status by a long route. Abraham Luria was born the son of the Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, a renowned biblical scholar from a family of noted scholars