The Manuscript

Grobes: (enters, carrying satchel filled with hundreds of papers) Well, here it is. Exhibit A.

Thomas: (at desk; swivels in chair to face Grobes; turns off fluorescent lamp) So this is what you think will help us unravel the Library.

Grobes: Yes. Here, just look through these copies. They’re the best I could do on such short notice. (Thomas examines the papers from the satchel) Find the key to this document, and you find the key to the Library.

Thomas: Still don’t see the connection, my good man. But please …

Grobes: Now you can see it in the manuscript for yourself. Or at least a Photostat replica. What do you think?

Thomas: (after a moment) The drawings are what amaze me most, I think. They look –

Grobes: Authentic?

Thomas: Unreal is a better choice of word. And … was the fifteenth century really so obsessed with women’s breasts?

Grobes: (laughing) What century wasn’t?

Thomas: These plants are other-worldly.

Grobes: Speaking of other-worldly, wait till you get to the last section.

Thomas: The sixth?

Grobes: Yes.

Thomas: (flipping through pages until he nears the end of the manuscript) Good Lord … it almost resembles a modern astronomical sky chart. An elliptical galaxy, perhaps.

Grobes: Indeed. Other theories are that the diagrams resemble cells seen through a microscope. Or a pool of water. Or even sea urchins.

Thomas: I see. And look – are these astronomical, er, astrological symbols, notations, here, written in Latin?

Grobes: Yes. But most theories posit that they were added at a later date.

Thomas: So when was the manuscript originally created?

Grobes: It was first brought to the world’s attention by Gregor Voskovich, a Polish rare book dealer, in 1911. He only allowed the barest minimal tests to be done to it to establish its age, and only for selling valuation purposes, of course. Ink and parchment analysis, that sort of thing. I’m afraid I’m ignorant of the exact processes. But it was initially placed as produced in the early-to-mid 1400s. A date of 1420 AD is commonly accepted.

Thomas: And was the same analyses done on the Latin inscriptions?

Grobes: To my knowledge, no.

Thomas: And we can’t chemically test it now, right?

Grobes: No. It’s under lock and key at Yale. We could try to take it, but I’m not sure what the point would be at this early stage. I suggest we see how far we can get with these copies, and then we can decide later what to do about … obtaining the original.

Thomas: Funes and Montag will be pleased. What do you think their chances of success with this manuscript are?

Grobes: (long pause: pours himself a drink and sits down, loosening his tie) There’s really very little we know about this manuscript. Very little we know for certain. We don’t even know who wrote it, or why, or in what language. Some of the top cryptographers from World War II have worked on it, professionals and amateurs alike, without cracking a single word. But if anyone can do it, it has to be those two. Funes’ theories and Montag’s machine …

Thomas: (puts manuscript back in satchel) But Roger Bacon did not write it.

Grobes: No. It’s at least a hundred-and-fifty years younger than Bacon. Dee or Edward Kelley may have been its author, and there’s always the fact that each had extensive libraries containing Bacon manuscripts. So, if it’s Dee or Kelley –

Thomas: There’s the mystical connection to the Library.

Grobes: Exactly, my good man!

Thomas: And all these squiggles … it’s a real language?

Grobes: Oh yes. Well, at least that’s the majority expert opinion. Statistical analyses of the kinds of things one finds with real languages correspond to this language. Something called Zipf’s law reveals it to be similar to English or Latin. But the Voscovich language is quite unlike most Western languages.

Thomas: In what way?

Grobes: For one, there are practically no words longer than ten letters. And at the same time there’s very few words of one or two letters. (finishes his drink) And sometimes a word is repeated three times in a sentence.

Thomas: So? What’s the big deal there? Tell me something really, really, really amazing. (lights a cigarette) Notice what I just did there?

Grobes: Yes, you used a word three times in the middle of your sentence. I’m just telling you, this will be a tough nut to crack. But it’ll be worth our while, I’m sure. (darkly) My friends tell me so.

Thomas: (dismisses Grobe’s comment with a wave of his cigarette) So the authorial connection to the Library may be there. These pictures in the manuscript … strange plants, naked women, astrological charts, possible star charts. What’s the purpose of the whole damn thing?

Grobes: That won’t be known for certain until we have a translation. But there have been guesses.

Thomas: Such as?

Grobes: Think, man, think!

Thomas: Plants. Herbs. Perhaps pharmacology. Ingredients, recipes. Hmmm. Naked women … wait. The naked women are mere garnish, punctuation, or a distraction. And the astrological symbols …

Grobes: What was the big rage in medieval literature? What was every self-respecting Renaissance man always on the make for?

Thomas: Dee and Kelley. They were … court magicians …

Grobes: More than that, good sir. They were –

Grobes and Thomas, together: Alchemists.

Grobes: Exactly!

Thomas: And the philosopher’s stone, the elixir of life – could not both be somehow described in this manuscript?

Grobes: (grinning) It’s not an unreasonable possibility, Tom.

Thomas: And – you know what I feel about that bunk. But – both will lead us to the Library!

Grobes: That is what I meant by a “connection.”

Thomas: (thinking a moment). Grobes, send for Funes and Montag immediately. And place a call to Mr. Jeremiah. I think our sticky-fingered friend needs a tour of the medieval museum at Yale University.