It had been an exhilarating presentation. The audience rose
and applauded enthusiastically. The news as such was marvellous,
but to hear it from the man who had made the discovery topped
it. The Professor bowed politely towards his audience. With
a coy smile he acknowledged the admiration of the many people,
who had clearly been captivated by his talk. The reaction
had been the same in every city and town he had been to over
the past six months. Wherever he went, the by now world-famous
Professor, patiently explained how the device he had built
had found unambiguous proof of abundant bacterial life forms
on Mars, Titan and Europa. And wherever he went, people were
captivated by his biochemical data and microscopic images
of life away from planet Earth. It was called the most significant
scientific finding of all time. The philosophical implications
were truly earth-shattering. If life was abundant in our solar
system, so the rather logical conclusion, then the entire
observable universe had to be teeming with life. However much
religious fundamentalists tried to dispute first the data
and, when this did not work, the personal integrity of the
Professor, the discovery had a monumental impact on mankind!
We were not alone.
The Professor slumped back into his chair. After a series
of interviews in the morning and tonight’s lecture,
there was only one more interview to do. A reasonably relaxed
day compared to the standard of the past half a year. As per
usual, he had been put up in a five star hotel with a brilliant
view over the illuminated city. ‘How life can sometimes
change’ thought the Professor, while pouring himself
a gin and tonic (on the house of course). He came from a middle
class background and had spent his whole life in academia,
patiently working on designing experiments and building detectors
to pick up biochemical signals indicating the presence of
microbial life. Fame and fortune had never been on his mind
but, without the shadow of a doubt, the changes ahead in his
personal life were most certainly dramatic. The epic discoveries
based on his devices had catapulted him into the public eye.
He grinned at his own reflection in the living room window
of his suite while sipping his favourite tipple. True, there
would never again be a struggle to get a research grant but,
at the same time, there would also be never again the quiet
life in a provincial town that he loved so much. There had
already been offers to move to a number of world-renowned
universities, and to assume very senior positions in planned
future missions to detect extraterrestrial life elsewhere.
The buzzer on his door rang and he turned to open the door.
‘Very punctual’ thought the Professor, ‘as
is to be expected of a science journalist.’ To his surprise,
however, the person standing in front of the door looked nothing
like the respected science journalist he was. Dressed sloppily
in black clothes, unshaven and unkempt, he was truly a maverick
and loved to live up to the reputation. One look and the Professor
knew this man was a technology and gadget freak! ‘Welcome
to my humble abode.’ the Professor said inviting the
journalist into his suite. The journalist nodded politely
and stepped into the room. The Professor offered him a drink
and, surprisingly, the journalist asked for a glass of water.
‘Must be the in-thing to do at the moment.’ mused
the Professor. He sat down in his comfortable chair and looked
expectantly at the journalist, who was busy arranging his
recorder. The Professor was very pleasantly surprised when
the journalist started: ‘I don’t want to waste
your time, Professor. I can imagine what it must be like having
to answer the same kind of basically stupid questions all
the time. I won’t ask you about how you felt when the
data from Mars and the moons were confirmed. I don’t
want to know what the spontaneous party was like, whether
you cried with joy etc. etc.’ The journalist focussed
his dark-brown eyes on the Professor. ‘I want to know
the hard facts – the technology behind your devices
and how you developed them.’ The Professor relaxed somewhat.
No need to engage in unnecessary chitchat with this man. Very
much the way the academic in him liked it. The next half an
hour went by in a whiz. The journalist asked and the Professor
answered. However, at a particular point in their discussion
the Professor got the impression the journalist did not quite
understand him. This did not surprise him, given the almost
exclusive focus on technology the journalist so clearly had.
Again and again the Professor tried to explain but, eventually,
he raised his hand and pointed to the window. ‘I think
we should have to go outside for me to explain what I mean’
The journalist nodded in agreement, finished his glass of
water, and then followed the Professor, who had already donned
his coat. After all, it was long since night fall and it might
be chilly. They stepped into the elevator and, without saying
another word, travelled to the ground floor. The receptionist
smiled brightly at the Professor and his dishevelled-looking
guest as they passed the lobby and went outside.
The Professor found what he was looking for very quickly.
Crossing the street, he saw a section of the boulevard which
had recently been renovated. There were still some bricks,
gravel and sand piled on a stretch of lawn right next to a
park bench. The Professor invited the journalist to sit next
to him, and then picked up a handful of sand. He held up his
hand so that the street light illuminated the sand in his
palm. ‘What do you see?’ asked the Professor.
The journalist, clearly unimpressed, pulled a face and replied
somewhat sarcastically: ‘I see the hand of a Homo sapiens
cupping a handful of sand.’ The Professor nodded, obviously
satisfied with the answer. ‘And what if I were to tell
you that what drove me to look for life elsewhere was the
realisation that all the questions one could possible ask,
and all the answers one could possibly obtain, were contained
within a handful of sand.’ Now the journalist was visibly
uncomfortable. In his mind images of exceptionally well designed
and well crafted human machinery roamed planets and moons
in far away solar systems, performing ingenious experiments
to detect signs of alien life. And the man, who had come up
with all these technological wonders honestly meant to tell
him that, what had started him off on the road to discovery,
was a humble handful of sand. ‘With all due respect,
Professor’ the journalist finally volunteered, ‘despite
your successes, deep down you are a romantic.’ The Professor
nodded politely. ‘No, I have made a success of my science
because of it. Try and think about that.’ With that
he got up, scattered the handful of sand over the lawn and
walked back to the hotel.
