CHAPTER SEVEN
UC Berkeley, Anthropology Dept.
“MANY OF YOU are now familiar with the tabloid headlines,” Professor Nielson announced, standing at the front of his class. To further embolden the already salacious caption, he raised his right hand. “Greatest discovery of humankind.” The theatrical dimension between his thumb and forefinger suggested a four-inch font. “The God Sequence. Mapped for Eternity!”
Amid a predictable range of audience reaction, the professor exchanged glances with his guest. Simon was seated in the front row, off to his left. In an attempt at being inconspicuous, the near celebrity CEO was dressed casually, so as not to become the focus of a distraction. Though many attending the lecture knew their fellow student had a famous father, only the faintest of murmurs confirmed his presence.
“Yes, the immutable power of the press,” Nielson said, lethargically. “But before we move on with this, our latest series of lectures, let me take a moment to confirm a few suspicions that seem to be percolating up from our front rows.”
Professor Nielson looked over to his left and found his guest suppressing a smile during an acknowledging nod. Like many Berkeley lecture halls, this classroom rose upward, similar to that of an amphitheater. Its two-hundred seat capacity was nearly three quarters filled with second year anthropology students.
“If you would allow me to direct your attention to the front,” Nielson stated, gesturing with his left hand. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that we have a special guest today. Yes, and as guests go, I can assure you few are as deserving of being recognized for their achievements.” As the professor continued with his introduction, each successive tribute made more than just Simon uncomfortable.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Jennifer anguished. She was seated halfway up the theatre, on the opposite side.
The girl sitting beside her leaned forward and looked down to her right. “Hey, is … is that your father?” Stacie asked.
Jennifer became the portrait of uncertainty. She only nodded her head.
“I thought you weren’t on speaking terms.”
“I’ll explain later.”
Professor Nielson finally concluded by stating: “Please let me introduce the Chairman of PurIntel, Doctor Simon Taylor.”
Simon stood up and casually buttoned his tan-coloured blazer. He nodded modestly, as if a reluctant recipient of the room’s polite applause.
“Doctor Taylor has offered the services of his company’s supercomputer to Berkeley University.” Simon returned the professor’s admiring glance. “Yes, a valuable measure of Sophia’s time will soon be divided between the departments of Economics, Environmental Health and of course, Anthropology. Thank you very much, Doctor Taylor for your generous and valuable contribution to science.”
“It is my pleasure,” Simon said, smiling awkwardly.
“And please feel free to interject at any point in today’s lecture. We’d be more than happy to consider any reflections you may have on the subject matter.”
While Simon felt relieved to return to his seat, his daughter remained somewhat embarrassed. She strained a glance toward her father. “Tell me that girl is not …”
“Yep,” Stacie interjected. “I think she’s trying to get your father’s autograph.”
Jennifer slunk into her seat before putting her hand over her eyes. “This is horrible.”
The professor cleared his throat, indicating the session would resume. A broad lecture table lay before him, while two large video screens hung behind his left and right.
“The God Sequence,” he repeated, after consulting his notes. “Does it exist? Can it exist? Any thoughts on that audacious headline?” he asked, throwing it out to his students.
The class remained silent.
“Then I’ll ask you this: to what degree have the artifacts of religion become irrelevant?”
Again, silence. “Are we beyond the age old battles between religion and science? Does God even matter these days?” the professor added, trying to elicit a response.
“Of course He matters,” a voice shouted. All eyes turned to a student seated several rows behind Simon. The girl was obviously offended by the professor’s flagrant dismissal of God. She had little choice in attending the core anthropology course; Intro to Skeletal Biology and Bioarcheology. What she didn’t realize, though, was that her professor was frequently too eager to turn their latest ‘Religious Artifacts’ component into an examination of the relevance of theology itself.
While Jennifer joined her classmates in watching the girl pack up her things, her friend, Stacie Turner nudged her. “Say something. Tell him what you told me.”
Jennifer resisted the desire to lash out verbally. Stacie’s efforts, on the other hand, fell considerably short. “It does matter, Sandra!” Stacie shouted. Their friend stopped in her tracks. Only steps from the classroom door, Sandra turned and momentarily stared at her defender.
“Please explain,” Nielson interjected, glancing from Sandra to the upper rows.
Stacie’s pause allowed a poignant, heartfelt visual exchange between the two girls. A tearful Sandra then glared at her professor before storming out of the room.
The professor prompted Jennifer’s friend further. “Why does the so called ‘God Sequence’ matter, Miss Turner? I for one intend to prove it does not exist, that the genome recently derived from the James Ossuary bones is routinely human, that it contains no heavenly helix, no Divine mutation.”
Professor Nielson’s students knew he was referring to the stunning announcement, which accompanied the James Ossuary’s recent debut at the prestigious National History Museum of Los Angeles. In the lead up to the exhibit’s opening day, a sensational revelation, originating in the Middle East, suggested the lost James Ossuary bones had, in fact, been discovered. While the timing of such claims were usually reserved for the weeks leading up to Easter, the surfacing of the James Ossuary Bones, as they became known, was humoured by many as a shameless Hollywood-style promotion of the Los Angeles event.
The fact that a member of the Israeli Antiquities Society confirmed a paleographic examination of the skeletal remains as being consistent with the geochemistry of the original ossuary find only added to the hype surrounding the already controversial artifact. When Simon read the pre-exhibit advertising, he was tempted by a sacrilegious vision; a reanimated version of James would soon be talking about his Divine ancestral lineage with actor Ben Stiller. The Night at the Museum movie series would undoubtedly be revived.
Professor Nielson had reviewed the evidence in a previous class, which pointed to the possible authenticity of the new discovery. He underscored the claim’s micro-analysis and how it could, in this case, be interpreted as revealing two things: that a chalky substance embedded in the bones bore a ninety percentile resemblance to that of the ossuary in question, and that trace elements of the soil, which tied the ossuary to the sight where James was actually martyred, were also found on the bones. Again, the Professor thought to himself; those well invested in faith will look no further.
In an attempt to restrain her friend, Jennifer grabbed Stacie’s arm. “Do you want an F?” she quietly implored.
“He can’t give me an F if I withdraw first,” Stacie stated, while getting up from her chair. “Look, if you don’t say something, I will.”
“Have you anything to add to this debate, Miss Turner?” Professor Nielson asked.
Jennifer’s eyes begged her friend not to leave. “Please, Stacie.”
“Are you going to speak up or not?” she glared.
Jennifer’s nodding agreement convinced Stacie to acquiesce, if only temporarily.
“Perhaps another time?” Nielson added, rhetorically.
Stacie tempered her indignation before retaking her seat.
“Moving along, then,” the professor announced. “If you will direct your attention to the monitors on my left and right, you’ll recognize the phylogenetic tree of life.” The professor lo
oked upward at his class, before moving about casually. The three-and-a-half billion-year-old tree remained captured on the screen to his left, while the one on his right evolved quickly through millions of evolutionary branches. With three significant offshoots and just five-hundred million years to go, the video slowed in order to focus on one small twig on the top right corner of the tree. Professor Nielson continued unscripted. “Now who can remind me how closely we are genetically related to … say a chimpanzee?”
“99 percent,” a voice answered.”
“And we split from that ancestor when?”
“Approximately 6 million years ago,” another offered.
“How about a mouse?” Nielson continued.
“90 percent genetic similarity and that branch occurred some 100 million years ago.”
“Thank you, Mark. How about … let’s say a simple yeast?”
No answer was immediately forthcoming. “Alright,’ the professor quickly relented. “Our human genome is 30 percent similar to that of common yeast. Yeah, that’s the stuff that makes your sandwich bread rise.” The professor paused just long enough for a light-hearted laughter to subside. “Yes, we can trace that unique relative back to something in the neighbourhood of 1.5 billion years.”
“We should also be aware by now of how all of this similarity is coded in only two percent of our genome; the other ninety-eight percent being ‘dark,’ archived pairs still relegated to obscure regions of our ancestry.
“Having said that, today I want to demonstrate not only how our ancestors are related biologically, but how their distant civilizations can be further connected both geographically and chronologically. Connected to what, you might ask? To every event that defined human history. I like to think of it as a multi-dimensional look back through time. I’m suggesting the title: Humanity in 3D.” The professor turned to Simon and prompted: “Doctor Taylor.”
“Thank you, Professor Nielson,” Simon stated, getting up from his chair. He buttoned his coat while moving towards the large desk at the front of the class. He pulled from his coat pockets three devices, which would soon help explain the real reason for deploying Sophia’s resources on the professor’s behalf. After spacing them equally on the desk, he took several paces to his left. The professor took up a position off to the right.
Simon smiled up at Jennifer before beginning: “Your professor has eloquently described how closely we are related to our distant ancestors.” The first device on Simon’s far right projected a holographic image of simple organisms evolving into higher life forms.
“You have also learned in various history classes of the well-documented societies that have punctuated our illustrious past.” The device on the opposite side of the table, closest to him, came to life. The earliest examples of recorded history scrolled forth in their three dimensional form.
“But what you will glimpse today is how your history can be combined with your world in order to better understand your past.” The third device instantly projected a rotating globe above the desk. It was much larger in size than the two flanking scenes. Smiles and gasps accompanied an amazed audience as the mega-continent Pangea showed signs of cracking apart.
“Soon to be deployed on your behalf, the supercomputer, Sophia, will be instructed to assemble every single archaeological remnant the Earth has to offer. Every bone fragment that has ever been catalogued, every rock sampled, ice-core drilled, every bit of data that connects paleontology with geography will be cross-referenced.”
The rotating globe slowed as rays of light from the first device were beamed onto a nearly still earth. A cloud of noxious gas hung over the Earth during the second last of five known extinction level events. Visualizations of the life it suffocated were offered up from the first device. When the vapour cleared, the globe seemed barren. It took nearly ten million years for life to re-establish itself. Dinosaurs of every type were displayed in turn beside the hollow, see-through Earth. When an asteroid came into view, everyone knew what was coming next. The impact caused a fireball to disperse over the planet. Again, on the left, animated dinosaurs fell where they stood.
As Simon’s narrative continued, three-dimensional humans began to walk upright. Their fossilized remains were beamed onto a newly formed African continent. Ice descended from the north only to retreat more than ten times during a period not restricted to one-and-a-half million years. The familiar twenty-four hour clock depicting a timeline of the Earth’s entire history was soon found to be ticking away above the third device. The hour was late, only three minutes remained. All record of modern human achievement would transpire in the timepiece’s last few seconds.
“Every scrap of papyrus will be studied, every dialect decoded. Sophia will connect every human event with its geographic and geological counterpart. More importantly for you, every available strand of bioarcheology will be sequenced against its modern geographic contemporary. This will be undertaken in order that you better understand ancient, historical migrations. Animal data will supplement that of our hunter-gatherer relatives.”
“The cataclysmic events, which the Earth thrust upon its occupants, will be correlated with relevant archaeological and geo-chemical data. The decline of the world’s most noteworthy empires will be mapped and understood within their proper three-dimensional context.”
On the slowly rotating globe, the massive eruption of the Indonesian volcano Krakatau in 535 AD, and the subsequent climate disaster it caused, was followed by a dispersal of the area’s human occupants. A pall seemed to drift over Europe, the Dark Ages ensued. The fall of the Mayan Empire was followed by the assimilation of its surviving progeny into surrounding geographic regions. Migrations of humanity were depicted by lines fleeing destruction on an animated global scale.
“I don’t know about you,” Simon said, smiling, “but I’m excited to see the results.”
When clock’s hands met at the top, the images contracted back into their respective devices. “Sophia will begin her task as soon as I return to New York. I expect Professor Nielson will be presenting her results before the end of this term,” Simon concluded.
“Thank you, Doctor Taylor, for that wonderful presentation,” the professor announced.
Simon acknowledged Professor Nielson with a nod and a smile. He made his way toward the three devices before the professor caught his attention. “You wouldn’t mind leaving those behind, would you?” he joked.
Simon laughed. “I’m sorry I need them for an upcoming conference.”
Professor Nielson shrugged in disappointment while resuming his position behind his desk. He looked out over his audience. “Does anyone have a question for Doctor Taylor while we have him?” The Professor turned to Simon. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” Simon replied.
“Alright then, if anyone has a question, this is your chance, so please speak up.”
A voice rose from the crowd. “I heard that approximately seventy-five thousand years ago a geological event reduced the earth’s human population to near extinction; something in the range of some two-thousand people. Do you think Sophia will be able to trace the ancestry of everyone in this room to those two-thousand individuals?”
“A very good question, Judith,” Professor Nielson proudly stated.
“If there is evidence of any kind out there,” Simon responded, “data on any event, structured or unstructured, however obscure, Sophia will cross-reference that occurrence from as many angles as is possible. If something that big took place, it shouldn’t be difficult to corroborate.”
The professor hoped for more intelligence to be reflected in his class. “Anything else?”
An awkward pause was followed by a sheepish voice emanating from the second row. “They say Sophia’s face is a composite of the world’s most beautiful women. Is that true?”
Professor Nielson’s heavy sigh was followed by a female voice. “That would make her the smartest and most beautiful woman in human history.”
“Don’t you find her intimidating, Doctor Taylor?” a male student asked.
The professor was not amused. “Alright, that’s enough from our contingent of tabloid reporters. Does anyone have a question pertaining to today’s lecture?”
This time Professor Nielson was quick to stifle any further embarrassment.
“Because if that’s all there is, I think we should offer Doctor Taylor a sign of our appreciation.” But before Nielson could raise his hands to clap, a voice hollered out from the back right. “Do you think Sophia will disprove the existence of God?”
Jennifer scolded Stacie. “What are you doing?”
Stacie shrugged and said: “You promised you’d say something.”
SOPHIA - Age of Intelligence Page 7
