Three To One, page 28
“What? I’m being charged with having consensual sex?”
“With someone below the age where she can legally give consent.”
“What age is that?”
“Seventeen.”
“Dove is a freshman in college. No way she is below seventeen.”
“At what age did you enter college, professor?”
“Oh. Crud. I didn’t even think of that. She seems so mature.”
“I bet she does.”
“What do you mean by that? She’s a very nice girl.”
“Even worse.”
“How is that worse?”
“There is a stipulation in the law which says that if a person is ‘of a chaste life,’ the age of legal consent goes up to eighteen years of age.”
“Seriously?”
“How old would you guess this young lady is?”
“I assumed she was eighteen.”
“So, it is plausible that she could be only seventeen?”
Professor Faulk groaned.
“Of course,” said the attorney, “if it turns out that she is eighteen, we could attack the chastity stipulation, try to prove she is not of a chaste life.”
“No way. God, where do they get you people? Are you even a real human?”
“I am trying to look out for your best interests, which is my job. This girl’s father is a powerful man. Believe me, there are others who are working to protect the welfare of the young lady. You better hope I am better than they are.”
“You are telling me Dove’s wishes don’t even enter into this.”
“Yes. That is what I am telling you. What the young girl wants is irrelevant. She is below the age of consent. These charges were initiated by her father.”
“So it only matters what he thinks.”
“Actually, it is more serious than that. Once these charges were filed, it became Faulk versus the state of Massachusetts. Do you understand? The state government is bringing the charges. You can’t afford to play around with that.”
“Maybe I’ll just resign from my position at the institute.”
“Maybe you should. But it won’t make any difference whatsoever, in this matter. You are legally an adult; she is legally a minor. That means it is a violation of the law to have sex with her, even if it is consensual. It doesn’t matter if you are a professor or a mechanic.”
“But I didn’t have sex with her.”
“We are protected by attorney-client privilege. You can be honest with me.”
“I am being honest. Nothing happened. This whole thing is based on a lie.”
“Said every sex offender who ever went to jail.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Sorry, Professor Faulk. It is my job to tell you the truth, and help you defend yourself in the most effective way possible.”
“And what way is that?”
“Well, normally, I wouldn’t even suggest this, but given the proximity of your ages, you might get away with an apology to the court, and an expression of remorse.”
“What?”
“Claim a momentary lapse in judgment and plead for mercy.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not going to do that. That is an admission of guilt, and I didn’t do anything.
“Said at least half the convicts currently in prison.”
“Would you please stop saying that?”
“It is how it works.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“Believe it.”
“You did what?”
“I swore out a complaint and had him arrested.”
“Oh, my Lord. I swear, Chris, you are the most thick-headed, insensitive Neanderthal I’ve ever known.”
“What?”
“Did you miss the part where Dove said she loves this guy? Did you miss the part where I specifically told you not to do anything that would drive a wedge between us and Dove? Good grief. I don’t know how you’ve made it this far in life. You are incapable of making a rational decision.”
“Well thanks a lot. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“I really feel that I’m married to a man so blinded by his own ego, and his pubescent passions that he is incapable of taking the needs or wants of others into consideration. You’re like a sociopath, but without the endearing qualities.”
“Many CEO’s are sociopaths, and it contributes to their success. Why can’t you just appreciate me for who I am?”
“And who is that, exactly?”
“A man who has the guts and gumption to make difficult decisions, without letting feelings get in the way.”
“Oh my gosh. You really believe that don’t you?”
“I do. And it isn’t my fault that you live in a little never-never land made up of candy canes and unicorns.”
“That is probably the worst attempt at a metaphor I’ve ever heard.”
“Well excuse me, for not being well-versed in fairy tales. I live in the real world.”
“Chris, for once, can’t you just listen to reason? Can’t you at least consider that you may have made a mistake here?”
“I follow my instincts. So far they have served me pretty well, thanks very much.”
“Oh, they have, have they? Well good to know.” She was seething.
“I’m glad we had this little chat," he said. "I feel so much closer to you now. I’m going to bed.”
“Oh no you’re not. You can sleep on the couch.”
“It’s my damn bed. You don’t want to sleep with me, then you sleep on the couch. I’m not going to wake up with a neck ache tomorrow because you’re squeamish about making tough decisions.”
“Fine. I will sleep on the couch.”
“Fine.”
“Good night then.”
“Good night.”
“Don’t bite the bed bugs.”
October 18
Friday morning, Peregrine stopped outside the door to the lecture hall, took a couple of deep breaths, and gathered his courage. He walked in with his head held high. His heart sank a little when he saw that Dove’s seat was empty. Where was she?
He clipped his lapel mic in place, turned on the battery pack, and clipped it to the back of his belt.
“Good morning.”
A couple students mumbled hello, half of them looked up at him.
“Today I am going to take a small departure from the syllabus. I am going to cover some material that I didn’t anticipate getting to, but I’ve decided it is important, so I want to make sure we cover it before the semester gets away from us. You can close your notebooks. Nothing I say today is going to show up on a test.” They seemed to like that. They closed their notebooks and settled back to see what he was about.
As you know, I am a geneticist. Scientific Research is my passion, and I do a little teaching on the side, to keep a roof over my head. How many of you here think you might someday like to be involved in science professionally?”
Maybe forty percent of them raised their hands. Okay, good. Now the rest of you, I’m assuming this class is filling a science requirement, and you saw the word ‘introduction,’ and decided it might be easy.”
A quiet chuckle rippled through the room. “For those of you who may never take another science class, and especially for those of you who think science will be an important part of your future, I want to address a question that is being widely discussed. That is, the importance of separating science, and religion.”
He saw a couple of people fidget in their seats. Others leaned forward. “I’m assuming, since you are adults, most of you have already formed an opinion on this. It seems everyone these days feels strongly about the topic, one way or another. I would like to propose that we all suspend our preconceptions, just for one hour, and discuss, like adults, a topic worthy of serious consideration. Deal?”
They all stared at him. Nobody was sleeping through this lecture. “Raise your hand if you are willing to suspend your preconceptions, just for one hour.” He raised his own hand high. “You can return to your previous bias again when you leave at the end of class.” Nobody moved. “Well? Is there anyone in this class courageous enough to take me up on that challenge?”
One girl in the third row, with purple hair and a nose ring, raised her hand halfway. Then a football player, then a girl in the back, then another, and another, slowly, at first, but eventually about three-fourths of the students had their hands up.
“Okay, I appreciate your maturity. You may put your hands down. Now, rather than this being a lecture, I want you to participate freely in a discussion format. I would like to be informal, so there is no need to raise your hand to speak. Just be considerate of one another. Fair?”
The football player, with a sing-song sarcasm, said “Yes, Professor Faulk.” A couple people chuckled.
Peregrine grinned. “Ha. I appreciate the levity. We are all equals here, and each of us brings a unique perspective, so feel free to participate.”
They all looked around at each other.
"Has anyone here ever sent an embarrassing text to someone by accident? I don’t mean a text that you worded incorrectly, but rather a pocket-dial gone awry.” A few people chuckled. “Anyone care to share an example?” The room was silent.
“That’s okay, I don’t want to share any of mine, either. But you all know how it happens. The pocket-dial produces a random string of characters, and then spell-check gets involved and converts some of the random letters into actual words.” They were all nodding.
“I’m sure you know, the results can be either funny, or really, really awkward.” More quiet chuckles.
“Let’s say that you stuck your phone in your pocket, and it randomly sent a message to the president of the institute, which said “The President is a Pig.” Several people laughed out loud. Others chuckled or snickered. Most were at least smiling.
“What would you do when you realized what had happened?” Peregrine asked.
“Leave the state,” said the football player.
“Call my parents and report my phone stolen.” It was the girl with the purple hair.
“Both good ideas,” said Professor Faulk. “Any other ideas?”
“Offer a bribe?”
“Break into her office and steal her phone before she can see it.”
“Enroll at BC.” Everyone laughed.
“Okay, those are all good, creative ideas. But why wouldn’t you just go to the president’s office, ask to see her, and explain that it was a random message? She knows how technology works, right?”
“And risk your future on her understanding? Sounds like a bad plan to me.”
“She would probably have you expelled before you ever got in to see her.”
“I hear Canada’s beautiful in wintertime.” Another round of laughs.
“So, what are you trying to tell me?” Peregrine asked
“We’re trying to tell you that you would be toast. Your time here would be over.”
“She’d never believe it.”
“It would be a tough sell.”
“Really? Is that the consensus?” He asked. Most of them nodded in response.
“Okay, then,” he said. “To be honest, I think I would have to agree with you. I might go to Canada too.” They laughed, but not as freely as they did for the student.
“Let me take it up a notch. Now imagine, that there was no limitation on how many characters you can send in a single text. Okay?”
A small chorus said “Okay,” most nodded their heads.
“Now imagine that the president received a different message from your phone. Not a simple message, ‘The President is a Pig,’ but instead, a huge document, critiquing the way the institute is run, utilizing almost perfect grammar and syntax. Upon reading, the document reflected careful thought, and planning, had subtlety and nuance, and very clearly and beautifully expressed a complex message in an elegant voice.”
“How could that happen?” a guy near the back, up top.
“Let’s just say for the moment, that it did. Never mind, how.”
“She’d never believe it was from me,” the football player said, and got another round of laughs.
“How long is this supposed masterpiece?” a brunette near the front on the right side.
“Long enough to be rather astounding. How long would it need to be?”
“Five hundred words.”
“No, a thousand words.”
“Ten thousand words, if it has all that subtlety and nuance.”
“Let’s make it a really extreme case,” Peregrine said. “What would an extreme case be?”
“60,000 words.” A quiet student on the left side of the room.
“How did you arrive at that number?” Peregrine asked.
“That is the minimum length for a doctoral thesis.”
“Okay, good. Most people would think a doctoral thesis is an example of an impressive document. What do you all think of that?”
Most people were nodding.
“Okay, a doctoral thesis is a decent example, because it would be expected to use lofty language, and deal with advanced concepts. But subtlety and nuance sound more like something out of literature. What is an extreme word count from literature?” Peregrine asked.
“Lord of the Rings. 576,000 words.”
“Okay, I like that. Let’s round it up and say 600,000 words.”
“No, that’s not even realistic.” A guy with wire-frame glasses.
“Why not?” Peregrine asked.
“A phone randomly generating and sending Lord of the Rings? It’s not a believable scenario.”
A girl in a white sweater said “I agree. If you make the example that ridiculous, we can’t even have a decent discussion.”
“So, you think it is not plausible that your phone could spontaneously generate a clean, well-written document like Lord of the Rings which was 600,000 words?”
“Not a chance,.” she said.
“I agree with her, there is nothing to even talk about.”
“Yeh, it’s too far-fetched.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Peregrine asked.
“Absolutely. It’s a ridiculous example.”
“What if I told you I have a phone which can randomly generate a document of the same quality of Lord of the Rings, only not at 600,000 words, but rather 600 million words?”
“I would say you’re off your rocker.”
Peregrine smiled. “So, you’re saying it is implausible?”
“Not implausible. Impossible.”
“You mean highly unlikely?” Peregrine asked.
“No, not highly unlikely. Straight-up impossible. It could never happen.”
“How about in a million years?” He asked.
“Not in a billion years.”
“Do we have a consensus on that?” Peregrine asked.
Nearly the whole class joined in. “Yes.”
“But what if it wasn’t just one phone?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if there were a thousand phones, and we gave them a million years, for even one phone to accomplish the task. How about then?”
“Still a ridiculous example.”
“Never happen. This is dumb.”
“Okay,” said Peregrine. “Let’s bring this back to the field of genetics, since that is what we are supposed to be studying in this class. Just in case the president walks in.” Several people laughed.
“The human genome has over three billion Characters in it. Think of each character as a single letter. In the English language, the average word has five letters.” The room was quiet, and they were paying attention.
“That is the equivalent of a document 600 million words in length, with a dizzying level of subtlety and nuance, and grammatical errors are very rare.” The room was silent. “We’re talking the equivalent of a document a thousand times the length of Lord of the Rings.”
There were some gasps, some low whistles, some muffled exclamations.
“That is what it takes to create a single individual human being. One individual, one species. Now ask yourself, how likely is it that the human race we know today, billions of us, plus all the flora and fauna on the planet, came to be by random, spontaneous generation?”
They were all looking at him. He smiled.
"I have to admit that I've played a little trick on you. There is really no question about whether or not this could happen in nature. We are discovering more and more that the complex system of matter in our universe is capable of organizing into intricate compounds and organisms, in seemingly random ways. Isn't that amazing?"
"Whoah."
"Unbelievable."
"Fascinating."
A couple faces still looked skeptical.
"I've just told you, that given enough time and research, we will discover that there is a telephone which could generate a document a thousand times the length of the Lord of the Rings. That is the science of genetics."
"Fascinating."
"I never had any idea."
"That's really beautiful."
"So, knowing that, I have only one question for you."
"Okay?"
"Who designed the phone?"
Some furrowed brows, some angry eyes, a couple of smirks.
“I’ve read more on the topic of genetics than most people,” he said. A few of them chuckled. “I can tell you in all honesty, in spite of the evidence that base elements can sometimes randomly unite to create complex compounds, I cannot for the life of me imagine a scenario where the complex system which allows for the evolution we’ve seen occur on our planet, came into being without some kind of intelligent design guiding the process.”
The classroom was utterly silent. “I say this, knowing that it will make me very unpopular with other people on the staff here. But my primary responsibility is to you, not them. I owe you the best I have to offer. And if I were to simply regurgitate the standard talking points that pass for science these days, I would be cheating you.”
“You can’t talk about religion in a science class,” a girl near the back blurted.
“And why is that?” Peregrine asked.
“Because you are infringing on my freedom of speech.” A couple students chuckled.
“I am not infringing on your right to speak. In fact, I want you to speak. I want to have an adult discussion about this.”
