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John took the device, and moved it side-to-side while fiddling with the adjustment. He stopped.

“Printing? So small that it needs this glass to read it? Most artful, but why? It must be formidably difficult to do.” He slid the paper sideways, looking for the beginning. He read aloud, “Modern Probability: Theory and Its Applications. By Emanuel Parzen of Stanford University. Stanford University?”

Richard gestured, palms-up. “A parched and empty hillside in our era, so I’ve been told.”

“So it must be.” John slid the holder around some more. “By the symbols, this appears to be some form of mathematics, but not of a kind I’ve seen or heard of.”

“Yes, it is. An advanced topic, used for many important things in science and commerce. I’ve recorded a notice to scholars at the state library in Grantville, that I will translate it into Latin, and our university press will publish it in the original English, and then the translation. As to why, this method of making a copy is a temporary expedient. It’s done with optics and chemistry, I don’t know precisely how. Much less satisfactory than reprinting the book itself at full size, but good enough for the typesetting and translation work, and far faster and cheaper than transcribing by hand. They made this in three days. And with each sheet holding the images of four pages, or four images of anything else for that matter, a whole book adds but little to a traveler’s burden-and they hope to put twelve or sixteen to a sheet soon. The actual printed book is safe in the private collection of the husband of one of my fellow teachers.”

John lowered the viewing device and looked at Richard in surprise. “ Fellow teacher? I thought you went there to study. You taught there?”

“Yes, it was how I supported myself during my studies. The Ring of Fire left a good many of their teachers behind. And now there are many more students than before. As soon as I arrived at the library and inquired in English after books on mathematics, the principal sought me out and asked if I could teach. So for two years I taught geometry and trigonometry in the high school, while helping with translations. Meanwhile I studied complex variables, probability, differential equations, and other manner of things. They greatly value our English university men, there.”

“They must have been sorry to see you leave, then.”

“Mrs. Reardon and her busy crew of volunteers did try to persuade me to stay longer. They have great plans. But John Pell arrived recently, and he has taken my place. He’ll serve them well, better than I could, really. I learned much from him in my undergraduate days.”

“Pell? I thought he’d gone to Horsham to teach school.”

“He did, but it didn’t last. But while he was searching for a new situation, word reached him of what was to be found in Grantville, and it drew him.”

John handed back the viewer. “So, there’s another place of high learning in the world. But, what was that you said about a notice of some kind?”

“Yes, a notice to other scholars that I intend to translate this book. There was the most fearful uproar after three translations of the same book on steelmaking came out within months of each other, all three scholars working unbeknownst to each other. After that, the library agreed to keep records, so that everyone can know which books are already being attended to.”

“And what will you teach now? This probability? Would I understand it?”

“You would, but I won’t teach it until it’s published at least in English so that every student can obtain a copy. I intend to give regular lectures on complex variables at first, since that follows directly after calculus, which is already taught here? Yes? And also an introductory course in physics, which they teach in Grantville at the same time as calculus, so there are many here such as your good self who could follow it. There will be laboratory demonstrations to illustrate the principles and give evidence of their truth.”

“Oh, so? You follow our own Francis Bacon in this, that the nature of the world cannot be known by reasoning alone?”

“To be sure, and Master of Arts Charnock Fielder of Grantville High School as well, who I’ve heard to say in two sentences what the learned Bacon required entire books to convey.”

“And that is?”

“ ‘In science there is no authority. There is only experiment.’ ”

Richard wasn’t accustomed to being awakened by Doctor Comber. But then, the distinguished Thomas Comber-Doctor of Divinity, Master of Trinity College, past Vice Chancellor of the university, and Dean of Carlisle besides-wasn’t known to make a practice of waking mere lecturers, or even to take the trouble of ascending to a third-floor room.

“Good morrow, Leamington. The dean of the chapel has informed me that Master Ramsey just now went to practice at the organ, and encountered a student of yours asleep beside a guttering candle, by which he was fortunately able to see a large cannon ball on a cord swinging from the ceiling. Would you care to explain that? To the dean? And arrange to have it removed before the morning lectures?”

“Uff? Asleep? At once. My apologies, Dr. Comber.” He scrabbled for his clothing. Under his breath he muttered, “I hope he got the data.”

“And, Leamington? Attend me in my rooms after the second lecture. There are matters we must discuss.”

Richard knocked on John Rant’s door. In moments there was a stirring within, and the door opened to reveal a very disheveled and confused-looking B.A.

“Richard? There’s light in the sky! I wasn’t called.”

“Indeed. I’ve just now been told that Tom fell asleep during the experiment instead of calling you at midnight to take your turn recording the data. We are required to remove the apparatus at once. Dress and join me in the chapel, if you will. If we’re quick about it, we may even have time for some breakfast.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be but a moment.”

Richard left at as rapid a walk as the dignity of a lecturer allowed.

During the first hour Richard attended a lecture. By ironic chance it was on musical scales, and the lecturer was Master Robert Ramsey, the chapel organist. He made no remarks beyond his recent inquiries into the startling notion of an equally tempered scale, in light of the ancient Greek modes, but his displeasure was clear enough by his posture and the dark glances he periodically cast toward Richard. Still, Richard managed to keep his mind on the subject at hand. Mostly.

The second hour went to giving a private lecture on vector calculus to several post-graduate students, who had made considerable inroads into the fragments of new mathematics that had reached the university during Richard’s absence. It was somewhat easier for Richard to keep his mind on that.

And then it was time to call on Dr. Comber in the master’s lodging at the north side of the Great Court. Richard knocked, then entered to see him seated at his writing table, by the big windows.

“Take a seat, Richard. I just want to capture one thought before it escapes…There.” Dr. Comber put down his pen and straightened in his chair. “Richard, you’ve annoyed two fellow members of this college for no good reason. The dean was most upset that you and your students hung that heavy ball in the chapel and set it swinging without saying anything to him first, or indeed to anyone who had reason to go into the chapel and could have walked into its path unaware. He’s responsible for keeping the place in good order and fit for services, lectures, and everything else that takes place there. He needs to know what goes on in his domain. As for Master Ramsey, he had a moment of fright, seeing that thing rush toward his ankles in the gloom.”

“I’m sorry for that, Dr. Comber. Still, no harm was done.”

“No, no harm, except to your own reputation. And that’s concern enough. You’re no longer some raw undergraduate, whose inevitable transgressions are to be corrected with stern admonishments and suitable penalties, and then forgotten. You’re well known throughout the university now, and there are those who look up to you. Your actions have real consequences-some mistakes may not be so easily undone. I had to assure the dean and the organist that you and your students were conducting some serious lesson, and not a midnight jape. I was correct, wasn’t I?”