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23.5 Degrees: And the Quest of the Quantum Kismet
Reality is not always probable, or likely - Jorge Luis Borges By Stella Maris
August 23, 2008
Detail: Daedalus and Icarus Attempt to Escape the Labyrinth
© Charles-Paul Landon
The restaurant owner's intense reaction to the Jean Moulin leaflet that the handsome stranger had left me in Chartres Cathedral's crypt was utterly unexpected, but intriguing. At first I thought that it was simply due to a strong emotional response relating to the much-loved local French Resistance hero, but what unfolded transpired to be far more labyrinthine, as I eventually discovered.
Of course, Soph and I already knew the famous story of Jean Moulin from our favorite coding game of Resistance Operatives, which we practiced by hiding little treasures all around our Gatehouse hotel suite using the saints feast day correspondences as location coordinates.
Moulin had cunningly evaded pressure from the Nazis in Chartres when he was the local Prefect there and then escaped to London to train with General de Gaulle before he parachuted back into France, where he operated under the codename of Max.
After uniting all the fragmented French Resistance groups into one viable fighting force, he was then believed to have been betrayed by a double agent, whereupon he was captured by the Gestapo on the Summer Solstice of 1943 and turned over to the nefarious Klaus Barbie for interrogation. He died from his torture wounds on July 8th, the Feast Day of Saint Apollonaire, which is coincidentally the same saint whose stained glass window at Chartres emits the mysterious gnomonic sunbeam on the Summer Solstice in the cathedral.
Pouring himself a cognac and settling into a chair at our table, the proprietor's hands shook as he translated the headline on the leaflet for us:
<< Who Betrayed Jean Moulin? >>
Apparently these leaflets had once been considered extremely dangerous, our new confidant explained, circulated underground in protest as the news of Moulin's demise percolated through the secret letter drops of the newly united Resistance movement. To be in possession of one would have meant instant arrest, at minimum.
Nowadays, the only known copies in existence were preserved in the document archive at the Resistance Museum in Paris. So, where did this one come from?
That's a very good question, I thought to myself. Edith Piaf was warbling again.
Cringing in anticipation of being scoffed at, I related a more demure version of how I'd gotten "lost" in the crypt and discovered an envelope containing the flyer on a pew in a chapel. Maybe I had only dreamed the part about the handsome stranger...
Regarding me curiously, our comrade pointedly asked which chapel it was. I had no idea. I was lost. The telluric currents were twirling. Soph looked like she was dying to strangle me.
Then, after an extraordinarily long pause, the restaurateur knocked back his cognac and smiled broadly. Well, the obvious course of action would be for me to take the leaflet to show the archivist at the Resistance Museum, who would be fascinated by my tantalizing tale from the crypt and might even offer me a few francs for the flyer.
Then, suddenly everything was normal again, the intensity had dissipated. Yawning, I automatically glanced at my watch and was astonished to discover that it was nearly midnight.
While the owner went off to calculate the bill and Soph slipped off to the Ladies to powder her nose, I finally had a proper good look at the mysterious missive. It looked a lot older than it had in the dim candlelight of the crypt, it could well be a vintage collector's item. I decided that I might indeed follow our friend's advice and take it to the museum to see what the archivist made of it. Couldn't hurt.
And it was only then that I noticed something written in English, in a very formal cursive script, in faded ink at the very bottom of the flyer. The message read:
"Everything exists, nothing is real."
Newton Coordinate: The Feast Day of the Queenship of Mary, August 22nd, Gamma Virginis, 1º31' East of the Greenwich Meridian. Happy Birthday to Jason!