by James Flynn
Chung Su smiled politely, not understanding the saying. People had started to get up and chat to friends at other tables, Chung Su was desperate to escape to another part of the room. She attempted to steel herself. You are here for a purpose, you must complete your task! She looked at Beltrano’s eyes, they did not seem frightening, they were dark but not dead. He stayed quiet and smiled, it was a reassuring smile, but her heart was still beating fast. She needed to talk, to engage with Beltrano. He may have information I need. But she did not know how to broach the subject of the laboratory without seeming suspicious … Vittorio. How had she not thought of it before, the presence of the officers must be much more focused on Professor Vittorio’s disappearance than on her.
The idea of bringing up the professor was still terrifying, as though if she mentioned the name then hidden men in uniform would jump out and carry her away. The urge to escape welled up inside, the door was so close; she could stand up, walk out and disappear, out of Teramo, out of Italy. Thoughts of her homeland drifted into focus, her family, her work, her home and she knew it was impossible to leave. If she failed this task then she would not see any of them again. Stories of brutality abounded in her country, families disappearing in the night, taken by government officials, never to be seen again. She had never thought she may be one of them.
Signor Malfi punctured her thoughts. “Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you all enjoyed your meals; please enjoy a short recess after which we will be commencing with the keynote speech. Thank you.”
This caused the room to erupt with talking, shuffling of chairs and music.
“Do you smoke, Miss Chung?” Beltrano asked casually.
She shook her head.
“Well I’m afraid I do, I am constantly told it will kill me.” Beltrano produced a cigar case. “I argue that at least I will know my killer.” His eyes focused on her. She shifted in her seat.
“Would you do me the honour of accompanying me outside? No one likes to smoke alone and it is not permitted inside here, which I agree with, one puff and the whole place would look like a steam room.” He gave a chuckle.
Chung Su fought to control her heartbeat. “Yes Officer.”
“Wonderful, and please, people call me Beltrano . Please take my coat; it will be deathly cold outside.”
As the pair stood, Beltrano caught Delvechi’s eye. The young officer started to stand but Beltrano gave a subtle shake of the head, indicating for him to stay.
***
The night air was bitter. Chung Su pulled Beltrano’s jacket tight; her body was already trembling from the cold. She fought to control the shaking, not wanting to look weak.
“It is sharp, isn’t it? But I always find such evenings quite beautiful, there is a purity to such acute cold.” As Beltrano spoke he walked idly around the grounds of the Observatory, careful to stick to concrete walkways with a cigar burning in his right hand.
“I think I prefer the heat,” Chung Su said, attempting her best smile.
Beltrano smiled back, his face lit by the temporary spotlights. “Perhaps you are right Miss Chung, but I think that people’s attitude changes a lot when it is hot; they become slippery of mind. The cold is such a … such a … well, let’s say it focuses one’s mind.”
Chung Su let Beltrano lead the way and he walked them slowly over to the tree line, coming to a stop just out of the spotlights. She could feel her muscles twitching as she fought the cold. Beltrano took a long drag of the cigar and leant his head back to face the sky as he exhaled.
“There is one thing I have always wondered, Miss Chung.”
“Yes?” Chung Su felt her voice crack slightly.
“When you spend your life studying the universe, examining the stars and what links everything together …” Beltrano paused, took another sharp drag and exhaled skywards, “does such a view still seem quite as breathtaking?”
Chung Su followed his gaze and saw the clear night sky lit by a thousand stars; the Observatory was positioned out in the countryside, there was no light pollution and each star was bright. “I have not thought about it, Mr Beltrano.”
“Perhaps it is just us laymen who wonder such things.” He gave another smile as he exhaled another lungful of smoke.
“Do you live in Teramo, Mr Beltrano?” Chung Su had no idea why she had asked such a pointless question.
“No, I am a city man myself. Although my job takes me all over. I suppose I would call Rome my home.”
“It is a place that I would very much like to visit.”
Beltrano gazed into the dark foliage. “Oh but you must, Miss Chung. How long are you here for?”
Chung Su’s body twitched. “Not for long, not long.”
“When did you arrive?”
“I have only been here a few days so far.”
“And I assume those days have been busy?” Beltrano was not looking at her.
“I suppose. A bit scary, my first time to Europe.”
“Ah, but of course, where do you call home, Miss Chung?”
“Korea.”
“It is my understanding that Korea is no longer a country under one banner. In what particular camp do you reside?”
Chung Su contemplated lying, but she could not. “North Korea.”
Beltrano did not respond at first. He took short sharp drags on the cigar, puffing smoke out of his cheeks. After a considered pause he asked, “So have you been to the beast?”
“The what?” Chung Su felt the conversation being led out of her control.
“Apologies, I think that the Laboratori Nazionali looks rather like a beast. Have you been?”
“Actually, yes, I have been, it is a marvellous place. I went to visit Professor Brun, as his guest.” She regretted saying it the moment it came out.
“Ah yes, I know the professor. Did he show you any secrets?”
Chung Su gave Beltrano a quick look. “Secrets? What do you mean secrets?”
Beltrano smiled broadly. “Forgive me, Miss Chung, I meant scientific secrets. I know how the science community likes to keep their secrets.”
“No, no, Mr Beltrano, the scientific community actually works to take secrets and let them go.” Beltrano did not respond.
“I was actually meant to be a guest of Professor Vittorio’s.” Chung Su held her breath.
“Right, I see.”
Chung Su spotted her chance to press. “May I ask you something, Mr Beltrano?”
“Of course.”
“Professor Brun said that Professor Vittorio had gone away … disappeared, I believe.”
“Is that so?” His face gave nothing away.
“Yes, and … as someone who felt … just in science … that Vittorio was a great man doing great work … well, do you know what has happened to him?” Chung Su held her breath once more.
Beltrano threw his cigar end to the floor and after a long pause replied, “In short, Miss Chung, no, we do not know where Professor Vittorio is. I will be open with you; we are searching for the professor and at this point are ruling nothing out.”
Chung Su let out a cloud of breath.
“However, we do have some potential leads that we are investigating. Tell me, Miss Chung, what exactly did Professor Brun say about the whole thing?”
Panic spread in a fit of nausea through her stomach. She had not wanted to imply that the professor had been discussing anything in depth. “He didn’t really say much, not very much at all.”
“But not much is not nothing.”
Even in the shadows she could feel his gaze zeroing in on her.
“He was just very sad that Vittorio had gone, like we all are. But …” Chung Su paused.
“But what, Miss Chung?”
“I was wondering if your agency thinks someone took Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
The answer caught Chung Su off-guard. “Oh, I … really?”
“Yes, I do believe that Vittorio was taken by someone or some people.”
Chung Su swallowed. �
�Who?”
Beltrano took a step towards her. “That is why we investigate, Miss Chung. That is why we investigate.”
Chung Su was desperate to push Beltrano on her countrymen. Was he aware of them? Were they under suspicion? But she shied away for fear of arousing Beltrano’s suspicion.
“Tell me, did Professor Brun have any theories?” Beltrano asked.
Chung Su wanted to end the conversation. “No, no, of course not.”
“Were you a fan of Professor Vittorio’s work?”
“I liked very much what Professor Vittorio thought of science, how he felt about it.”
They both stood in silence.
“You have finished your cigar, Mr Beltrano; perhaps we should go back in and not miss the speeches.”
“Absolutely, Miss Chung, but I enjoy talking with you. Maybe you would do me the courtesy of continuing our conversation tomorrow?”
Chung Su looked off into the trees. “That would be nice.”
“After you, Miss Chung … you are shivering.”
23.
“Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, please re-take your seats for the keynote speeches.”
Chung Su and Beltrano slipped backed into the hall. Luke’s eyes followed them. Everyone now turned in their chairs, looking expectantly towards the head table. A makeshift projector screen was placed against the wall and a shiny new projector box sat in front of it.
There were two preliminary speeches of around fifteen minutes in length, one given by a bearded stout man, the second by a middle-aged, bespectacled woman. They were accompanied by an array of images on the screen. Luke had no idea what the two speeches meant, nor what their implications were but both were met with obligatory applause amongst the congregation. Then it was Professor Brun’s turn. As he stood and walked to the centre of the table he appeared distant. He placed his papers down in front of him and faced the now-silent crowd. It was evident he was nervous and he took a sip of water before he began.
Firstly I want to thank everyone involved in organising this year’s event; it has been a wonderful effort, and so far a tremendous night to catch up with old colleagues. You must excuse me tonight if I seem somewhat reflective and contemplative; sometimes in life science comes second to forces that none of us should ever understand. The night will not be as complete as it rightly should. With that in mind I would ask that you grant me some grace, as you can appreciate this was never meant to be my duty tonight, and therefore I am alarmingly underprepared. I do have some things to show you, but I shall try and keep this brief … that way we all get more Champagne.
Brun managed a small smile, picked up his glass of water and sank it in one go. His hand was shaking as he rustled through his papers before returning his gaze to his audience.
Everything big must start from something small; it is a very simple truth. That word is a word that I believe we disregard too often in our work … simple. Professor Vittorio made it his life’s work to search for the simplicity in the universe. Let us not misunderstand this – looking at the smallest of things and developing big ideas. All of you sat here appreciate and understand simple principles, we accept them and they feed our world. We only need to take our grandfather Albert Einstein’s Theory of Relativity or the ever-evolving Standard Model, such theories are not complex at their core, at their roots, but they underpin the world around us. Yet as many of us in this room also know, they are not complete, they are not closed circles … forgive me ...
Brun rested both palms on the table and took a couple of deep breaths. Not a single sound came from the room. This small unlikely speaker held everyone’s attention, some mouths were open, others were frowning, all were waiting for the speech to start up again. After a moment Brun lifted his head and continued. As is abundantly clear I am not quite as good as my colleague at this … please forgive me if this is a slow process … good job you are all scientists.
The comment roused a low collective laugh from the crowd. Brun let his eyes wander, clipping Luke, Beltrano and Chung Su as he again went back to his notes. Although the circumstances are horrid I am no less privileged to be stood here in front of you, privileged not only to be part of such a wonderful group of minds, but privileged to now, hopefully, add to the quest. Our studies have reached a critical point, a terrifically exciting point, one that has not escaped the attention of the world. It seems newspapers and the media do still want a good old-fashioned story about us boring scientists. This caused another ripple of laughter. I think it best to let you watch a pre-prepared video and get my babbling self out of the way. Play the video.
Brun sat back down, the lights in the hall dimmed. At first there was nothing but a blue screen, then an image flashed up from the projector, the camera walking everyone down an industrial-looking corridor with large piping running in and out of the walls.
Luke glanced back at Chung Su; she was engrossed in the video. Next to her, Beltrano did not seem as lost in what he was watching.
The video started up with a commentary, the spritely voice of Professor Vittorio talked everyone through what they were seeing. The images meant nothing to Luke, the screen was flashing between what looked like a warehouse with men in work helmets and jackets, to diagrams, to 3D digital models. He caught the odd word, CERN, 450 miles, neutrino, oscillations. He was sharp enough to appreciate that the room was being shown and told how Vittorio and Brun had reached their findings. Quite unexpectedly, hushed conversations began around the tables, incessant whispers.
The video continued, guiding its audience through the work of large machines. Luke had to admit it was quite fascinating to see such large cumbersome-looking things being used to discover such intricate and unfathomable particles. He had naturally assumed the machinery would be delicate and refined. On the screen a man burst into the hall carrying a sheet of paper, screaming and shouting. Gauging by the over-the-top reaction this was a re-enactment scene supposedly showing the moment of discovery; it was poorly acted but did the job.
The image flashed to a row of numbers, then via some computer graphics the numbers formed a graph. This caused the whispering to intensify. One graph after another flashed across the screen. The final image was a lone shot of Professor Vittorio facing the camera. His words hung in the air. “If this was any other experiment then the number of tests and findings would have been classified as a Formative Scientific Discovery … this is real.”
A pang of familiarity spread through Luke at the sight of Vittorio on the screen. What is it? The screen went blank before he could find an answer, it had all lasted ten minutes. The lights were raised and Brun walked back to his position.
How does one follow that? I fear words are not enough. We tested over a hundred different calibrations, for each of those calibrations we tested 15,000 discharges from CERN. We feel that is extensive in anybody’s book. Each time in this beautiful, simple, unfussy masterpiece the neutrinos travelled to the Gran Sasso Laboratory faster than the speed of light. The whole team at OPERA believe the results to be accurate; we have submitted the findings to the Journal of High Energy Physics and also posted to the Arxiv repository. The neutrinos arrived sixty-billionths of a second faster than light. You all search for tiny beginnings … we give you the smallest beginnings of a new world.
Luke had expected a rapturous applause, people standing and cheering, but it never came. Strangely, the atmosphere in the room seemed to alter – it did not rise but in fact dipped, it was a tangible sinking. Luke glanced round at Beltrano and Chung Su. She was taking in the people around her and their reactions. Beltrano’s gaze was fixed on Brun, the slightest of smirks on his face. A few whispers started up again. Brun ignored them and continued in a robotic manner, as if regurgitating.
We cut down on all the errors that could have occurred, shortening the length of the bunches and therefore halving their life span. As you would expect this cut error margins considerably. However, to stand and posture about the findings is not why we wanted to present these
tremendous results to you all. A great man once told me: “One man’s results are another man’s starting point.” And that is why we show you what we have; we want to open it up to you all as a community. We invite you to delve deep, pick, pull and try and destroy what we have … it is now a theory that is yours to try and disprove. But as far as we are concerned, the laws of physics have just been taken back to a blank page.
With that, Brun took his seat, and a smattering of unenthusiastic applause trickled across the hall. Chung Su was clapping. Luke swivelled to check out the junior Carabinieri, who was playing with something on his tie, not even listening to proceedings.
The room began to pulse with an uncomfortable energy, there was a sense of unrest, people turning in their seats and sharing knowing glances with their colleagues. Luke kept his eyes on Brun; the professor was not looking up from his glass of water, incessantly rotating the glass in his hands, his brow furrowed.
Whispers turned to mumbles and then overt conversation started up; from what Luke could pick up people felt as though they had been cheated – they already knew what Brun had outlined. This is nothing we didn’t know … I read this, is that it? I want more than a few pictures and a happy video …
The atmosphere was charged. People began shouting across the room at each other, contemptuous laughs erupted at the more sarcastic comments Suddenly, Brun re-took his position at the centre of the head table. He began to talk over the commotion. I apologise if we had our moment stolen by newspapers and news channels, but the great reveal aside you all know what this means. That hasn’t changed, we just need to work on our timing.
Brun’s eyes met Luke’s and they held each other’s gaze. Luke could see the pain in the professor’s eyes, a pleading for help, before they glazed then flitted to the ground. Brun took a look to the ceiling then for the briefest of moments his eyes rested on Chung Su.
The room did not quieten down; they went into a full frenzy, scoffing and mocking the professor for such a vacuous presentation. If there was a room not to have turn on you, this was it, some of the greatest theoretical minds on the planet were sat judging.
