“Right about what?” snapped Koppirnig. “About conjunctions? You are. The rest, likewise. So I conclude you’re the type that’s always right. I’ve encountered people like you.”

“Certainly not like me.” The penitent smiled. “But never mind. Do you think that Ptolemy was right? What is at the centre of the universe—the Earth or the Sun?”

Koppirnig said nothing for a long time.

“Whatever wants to be, can be,” he finally said, bitterly. “How should I know? What sort of astronomer am I, what do I know? I withdraw everything, I confess to everything. I’ll do whatever they tell me to do.”

“Aha.” Scharley beamed. “So I was right! Astronomy clashed with theology? And you took fright?”

“What do you mean?” said Reynevan in astonishment. “Astronomy is a science. What does theology have to do with it? Two and two is always four—”

“I thought so, too,” Koppirnig interrupted gloomily. “But the reality is different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reinmar, Reinmar.” Scharley smiled in pity. “You’re as naive as a child. Adding two and two doesn’t contradict the Bible, which can’t be said about the rotation of heavenly bodies. You can’t prove that the Earth orbits a motionless Sun when it’s written in the Bible that Joshua ordered the Sun to stand still. The Sun. Not the Earth. Therefore—”

“Therefore,” the mason interrupted even more gloomily, “one must arm oneself with the instinct of self-preservation. Regarding the heavens, the astrolabe and telescope may err, but the Bible is infallible. The heavens—”

“He that sitteth upon the circle of the Earth,” Isaiah interrupted in mid-sentence, snatched from his lethargy by the sound of the word “Bible,” “stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in.”

“Well, well.” Koppirnig nodded. “He’s a nutcase, but he knows.”

“Exactly,” said Scharley.

“Exactly what?” Koppirnig lost his temper. “Are you so learned? I shall withdraw everything. I’ll confirm anything they want, as long as they release me. That the Earth is flat and Jerusalem is its geometrical centre. That the Sun describes a circle around the Pope, who is the centre of the universe. I’ll confess everything. Besides, perhaps they’re right? Their bloody institution has existed for almost fifteen hundred years. For that reason alone, they can’t be mistaken.”

“Since when,” Scharley squinted, “have dates cured stupidity?”

“Oh, to Hell with you!” cried the mason angrily. “Get tortured and burned at the stake yourself! I retract everything! I say: it does NOT move. Eppur NON si muove!”

After a moment’s silence, he added bitterly, “What do I know, anyway? What kind of astronomer am I? I’m a simple fellow.”