WHEN THE DOOR CLOSED, Gregory Evans felt as if a weight had been lifted. Antonia was one of those pedants who only enjoy themselves when they're the center of attention, capable of believing that everyone else is a bunch of ignorant idiots who learn by listening to her talk endlessly.
I'd have to prove him wrong. There was nothing that wasn't in the books. And there, at the auction house, there were tons of them, but it was on the virtual web that I thought I'd find references to alchemical signs and the language of cathedral builders.
The first thing he did, instead of gathering the papers, was connect to the internet on his computer and download the book that made the enigmatic Fulcanelli famous: his masterpiece. As he printed it to take home, he typed the word — Balkis— into the search engine. He wanted to know more about the legendary character who signed the letter he had received while he was away from Madrid. Perhaps he would find new evidence that could lead him to Candice.
He consulted several websites that spoke of the Queen of Sheba, her interest in Solomon's temple, and her relationship with the master builder named Hiram Abif. Later, he focused on the inhabitant of Tyre and the enigmatic golden triangle he always wore around his neck. According to legend, the medallion bore the authentic name of God, hidden behind a numerical equation.
He remembered Monroe, who claimed that within the Ark lay the mystery of sacred numbers. As far as he knew, the most perfect numbers were 3.1416 and 1.618, attributed to Pythagoras and Phidias, respectively.
Then he remembered a history professor, passionate about numerology, whom he met while studying at Merced University. His name was Lorenzo Salas. He insisted on the need to delve deeper into mathematics and wanted to decipher the mysteries of the universe. According to him, destiny could be calculated through equations. The time they spent together in class only fueled his interest in a science as ancient as the Jewish religion itself, which was part of the most arcane rituals of Kabbalah. From him, he learned to relate numbers to the words of the Hebrew alphabet.
He could still be seen with his cloth jacket and round glasses perched on the tip of his nose, always evasive and constantly restless. Despite his appearance of a crazed professor, he demonstrated to her that mathematics did not always follow a set order, as he had been led to believe.
It was perfect, yes..., but sometimes it suffered inexplicable variations that affected its continuity. For example: one day, he discovered that if you divide 1,000 by a number with three equal digits, the result is a code of three concatenated digits— without the decimal point — that repeats ad infinitum. In other words, a sequence of numbers governed by a most capricious mathematical law. This is true for all hundreds composed of three equal numbers, but, inexplicably, the same does not occur with the numbers 777 and 888.
Test carried out by the author:
1,000/111: 9.00900900900... (its frequency is three numbers: 900)
1,000/222: 4.50450450450... (its frequency is three numbers: 450)
1.000/333: 3.00300300300... (its frequency is three numbers: 300)
1,000/444: 2.25225225225... (its frequency is three numbers: 225)
1,000/555: 1.80180180180... (its frequency is three numbers: 180)
1,000/666: 1.50150150150... (its frequency is three numbers: 150)
1,000/777: 1.28700128700... (its frequency is six numbers, not three: 128700)
1,000/888: 1.126126126126... (its frequency is three numbers, but the initial 1 constitutes the discordant note: 1-126)
1,000/999: 1.00100100100... (its frequency is three numbers: 100), as if these numbers somehow altered the sequence of prolongation. This ensured, as they say, that the exception proves the rule.
He had a sudden premonition about the Ark, which is why he let his curiosity get the better of him, despite his fatigue. Now it was up to him, Gregory Evans, to determine whether his suspicion was true or a far-fetched idea that sought to find a link between God and the golden ratio.
He went in search of one of the several Bibles he had for auction and opened it to the book of Exodus, Chapter 37. It contained the exact measurements of the Ark of the Covenant: two and a half cubits long, and one and a half cubits wide and high. Knowing that a cubit at the time was equivalent to 45 centimeters, he calculated the current measurements. The Ark, according to his calculations, was approximately 112.5 centimeters long by 67.5 centimeters wide and high. Then he divided the length by the width. The result was the divine ratio: 1.6. Consequently, the same was true for the ratio divided by the height.
This seemed paradoxical, but also interesting. He decided to continue with something more transcendent: the name of God. Although he didn't yet master Hebrew as well as Antonia, he knew by heart the relationship between the acronym for Yahweh— the Tetragrammaton — and Jewish numerals. After assigning a corresponding number to each letter, he wrote on a piece of paper he found on the table:
YHWH 10 5 6 5
Starting from the Jewish belief that the name of God was separated into two different and antagonistic segments — Yah: man and Veh: woman —, he divided them in half:
YH/WH 105 / 65
So he multiplied the figures for the different segments separately, arriving at the results of 50 and 30, respectively. Then he divided them by themselves. What he got was quite significant: 1.6. The same number that was hidden among the measurements of the Ark of the Covenant. Quite a coincidence! He began to reason.
Is it true that God created things in geometry, as Pythagoras claimed? Isn't this perhaps the most reasonable explanation for the fact that, as the scriptures say, it was indeed God who dictated to Moses the model he should follow for the construction of the Ark? Was it a coincidence that the result of dividing its dimensions was the same as that of his own name? Was this the authentic name of God, an equation of proportionality that governed the Universe?
Confused, he closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to reflect on his new discovery. The golden ratio was present in man and nature, in numerical sciences, and in some buildings, such as the Parthenon in Athens and the Pyramid of Khufu. And what about cathedrals? Could they be governed, in the same way, by the divine proportion?
He gathered all his things, including the printed copy of The Mystery of the Cathedrals. Then he shut down his computer and headed for the exit. He locked the office door with the key Nicolas had left him, thinking of nothing but God's command.