laptop so they could search the file with the translation of the Archimedes Codex.
“What time do we land?” Stacy asked.
“Around 2 p.m. local time,” Tyler said. “Should give us enough time to get something accomplished.”
“I knew you were a workaholic.”
“Just trying to be efficient. In fact, I think we should split up when we get there.”
“Whoa,” Grant said. “Can we just back up here? I came in late at the house. Why, exactly, are we going to England?”
“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?” Stacy said.
“We’ve got a few hours before I can sleep, so I’ll take the long answer.”
“Have you heard of the Antikythera Mechanism?” Stacy asked.
“Tyler mentioned it when he was fabricating the geolabe.”
Through the plane’s Web connection, she brought up a photo of three pieces of corroded bronze, the biggest about the diameter of a grapefruit. In each of the pieces, intricate gearing could be seen.
“Looks like somebody left their clock in the rain for about a thousand years,” Grant said.
“About two thousand years,” Tyler said. When they’d been discussing it earlier, he told Stacy that he’d researched the Antikythera Mechanism because he realized how similar it was to the geolabe he was hired to build.
“They found these bits in the shipwreck off the Greek island of Antikythera in 1900,” Stacy said. “For years nobody paid much attention to them until an archaeologist realized that the gearing predated anything else as sophisticated by fifteen hundred years. Some people refer to it as the world’s first analog computer. It would be like finding an IBM PC hidden in the dungeon of a medieval castle.”
“What does it compute?” Grant asked.
“Debate has raged for years, but most scientists think it was used for astronomical prediction of some sort. Planetary movements, solstices and equinoxes, perhaps even solar eclipses. Ancient planting cycles and religious worship depended on knowing important calendar events, and this device might have been used to calculate them.”
She brought up another photo, this time of a shiny bronze mechanism behind a protective glass. The face of the device had two circular dials like a clock, and a knob on the side. The sides were transparent, so that you could see the gearing inside. Some of the points on the dials were etched with Greek lettering.
“That’s a replica at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens,” Tyler said. “Built from what they could glean from X-rays of the recovered pieces.”
“Looks like the geolabe you built,” Grant said.
“They’re very similar, but the markings on the face of mine are complete, and it has two knobs on the side instead of one.”
“So this codex seems to be an instruction manual for building an Antikythera Mechanism,” Stacy said.
“Or something along those lines,” Tyler said. “But the most exciting part is that the codex provides evidence that Archimedes may have been the one who designed it.”
Grant grinned. “You mean, the guy who yelled ‘Eureka!’ when he created the Archimedes Death Ray?”
Stacy could tell by his smirk that he knew very well he was conflating two well-known stories about the inventor, engineer, and mathematician. “You are so close,” she said.
According to legend, Archimedes was in the bathtub pondering how to solve a problem for the king of Syracuse, his patron on the island now called Sicily. The king was given a crown that was supposedly made of gold, but he wanted to verify the claim without destroying the gift. When Archimedes realized that the material’s displacement in water could be used to discern its density, he ran into the street stark naked yelling, “Eureka!” which translates to “I found it!”
The king also called on Archimedes to design weapons of war to repel a Roman siege during the Second Punic War in 214 B.C. Historians of the time recount a death ray Archimedes invented that focused the
“What time do we land?” Stacy asked.
“Around 2 p.m. local time,” Tyler said. “Should give us enough time to get something accomplished.”
“I knew you were a workaholic.”
“Just trying to be efficient. In fact, I think we should split up when we get there.”
“Whoa,” Grant said. “Can we just back up here? I came in late at the house. Why, exactly, are we going to England?”
“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?” Stacy said.
“We’ve got a few hours before I can sleep, so I’ll take the long answer.”
“Have you heard of the Antikythera Mechanism?” Stacy asked.
“Tyler mentioned it when he was fabricating the geolabe.”
Through the plane’s Web connection, she brought up a photo of three pieces of corroded bronze, the biggest about the diameter of a grapefruit. In each of the pieces, intricate gearing could be seen.
“Looks like somebody left their clock in the rain for about a thousand years,” Grant said.
“About two thousand years,” Tyler said. When they’d been discussing it earlier, he told Stacy that he’d researched the Antikythera Mechanism because he realized how similar it was to the geolabe he was hired to build.
“They found these bits in the shipwreck off the Greek island of Antikythera in 1900,” Stacy said. “For years nobody paid much attention to them until an archaeologist realized that the gearing predated anything else as sophisticated by fifteen hundred years. Some people refer to it as the world’s first analog computer. It would be like finding an IBM PC hidden in the dungeon of a medieval castle.”
“What does it compute?” Grant asked.
“Debate has raged for years, but most scientists think it was used for astronomical prediction of some sort. Planetary movements, solstices and equinoxes, perhaps even solar eclipses. Ancient planting cycles and religious worship depended on knowing important calendar events, and this device might have been used to calculate them.”
She brought up another photo, this time of a shiny bronze mechanism behind a protective glass. The face of the device had two circular dials like a clock, and a knob on the side. The sides were transparent, so that you could see the gearing inside. Some of the points on the dials were etched with Greek lettering.
“That’s a replica at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens,” Tyler said. “Built from what they could glean from X-rays of the recovered pieces.”
“Looks like the geolabe you built,” Grant said.
“They’re very similar, but the markings on the face of mine are complete, and it has two knobs on the side instead of one.”
“So this codex seems to be an instruction manual for building an Antikythera Mechanism,” Stacy said.
“Or something along those lines,” Tyler said. “But the most exciting part is that the codex provides evidence that Archimedes may have been the one who designed it.”
Grant grinned. “You mean, the guy who yelled ‘Eureka!’ when he created the Archimedes Death Ray?”
Stacy could tell by his smirk that he knew very well he was conflating two well-known stories about the inventor, engineer, and mathematician. “You are so close,” she said.
According to legend, Archimedes was in the bathtub pondering how to solve a problem for the king of Syracuse, his patron on the island now called Sicily. The king was given a crown that was supposedly made of gold, but he wanted to verify the claim without destroying the gift. When Archimedes realized that the material’s displacement in water could be used to discern its density, he ran into the street stark naked yelling, “Eureka!” which translates to “I found it!”
The king also called on Archimedes to design weapons of war to repel a Roman siege during the Second Punic War in 214 B.C. Historians of the time recount a death ray Archimedes invented that focused the
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