| 
			  
			  
			
  January 23, 2007
 
			from
			
			Impearls Website 
			  
			
			 
			Antikythera Mechanism 
			as it appears today, with x-rays superimposed;  
			from Jo Marchant's 
			'In search of lost time' (Nature)
 
			A recent issue of the British scientific 
			journal Nature (dated 2006-11-30) has several fascinating articles 
			including a research report on the Antikythera Mechanism, in which a 
			battery of powerful techniques including x-ray computed tomography, 
			high-resolution surface examination together with much painstaking 
			analysis have, more than a century after its discovery at the bottom 
			of the sea, begun to reveal the fascinating secrets of this ancient 
			device.  
			  
			As Jo Marchant puts it in her 
			companion piece “In search of lost time”: 1 
				
				It looks like something from another 
				world — nothing like the classical statues and vases that fill 
				the rest of the echoing hall. Three flat pieces of what looks 
				like green, flaky pastry are supported in perspex cradles.
				   
				Within each fragment, layers of 
				something that was once metal have been squashed together, and 
				are now covered in calcareous accretions and various corrosions, 
				from the whitish tin oxide to the dark bluish green of copper 
				chloride. This thing spent 2,000 years at the bottom of the sea 
				before making it to the National Archaeological Museum in 
				Athens, and it shows.
 But it is the details that take my breath away. Beneath the 
				powdery deposits, tiny cramped writing is visible along with a 
				spiral scale; there are traces of gear-wheels edged with jagged 
				teeth. Next to the fragments an X-ray shows some of the object’s 
				internal workings. It looks just like the inside of a 
				wristwatch.
 
 This is the Antikythera Mechanism. These fragments 
				contain at least 30 interlocking gear-wheels, along with copious 
				astronomical inscriptions. Before its sojourn on the sea bed, it 
				computed and displayed the movement of the Sun, the Moon and 
				possibly the planets around Earth, and predicted the dates of 
				future eclipses. It’s one of the most stunning artefacts we have 
				from classical antiquity.
 
 No earlier geared mechanism of any sort has ever been found. 
				Nothing close to its technological sophistication appears again 
				for well over a millennium, when astronomical clocks appear in 
				medieval Europe. It stands as a strange exception, stripped of 
				context, of ancestry, of descendants.
 
 Considering how remarkable it is, the Antikythera Mechanism has 
				received comparatively scant attention from archaeologists or 
				historians of science and technology, and is largely 
				unappreciated in the wider world. A virtual reconstruction of 
				the device, published by Mike Edmunds and his colleagues 
				in this week’s Nature (see page 587), may help to change that.
   
				With the help of pioneering 
				three-dimensional images of the fragments’ innards, the authors 
				present something close to a complete picture of how the device 
				worked, which in turn hints at who might have been responsible 
				for building it. 
			Now that close to a comprehensive 
			understanding of the Antikythera Mechanism has emerged from these 
			studies, the picture of the revealed machine is astounding: 
			
			 
			Rear side, sideways 
			view of reconstruction of Antikythera Mechanism;  
			from Francois 
			Charette, 'High tech from Ancient Greece' (Nature)
 
			
			 Schematic diagram of gear trains, as per Price and Wright;
 
			from T. Freeth et al. 
			'Decoding the ancient Greek astronomical calculator  
			known as the 
			Antikythera Mechanism' (Nature)
 
			
			
			 Diagram showing position of principal dials and inscriptions;
 
			from T. Freeth et al. 
			'Decoding the ancient Greek astronomical calculator  
			known as the 
			Antikythera Mechanism' (Nature) 
			  
			Reading the research report’s 
			description of its analysis of the dials and inscriptions on the 
			device is almost like reading an alternate history novel (a sequel 
			to a book by L. Sprague de Camp, say, The Glory that Was), 
			where science took off in antiquity and all this arcane technology 
			that results is accompanied by an impressive Ancient Greek technical 
			vocabulary… except that this is our timeline.
 Prior to historians and archaeologists’ realization of what the 
			Antikythera mechanism really was, scholars had no reason to think 
			that ancients were aware of the principle of clockwork-like complex 
			gearing at all.
 
			  
			Via the 1st century b.c. 
			Roman architect writer Vitruvius, we know that simple dual 
			gearing, for directional change, was in use following this time 
			frame in a type of water-powered mill. There are still no instances 
			known of the use of gears of any type predating the Antikythera 
			mechanism, however, nor anything of comparable sophistication for 
			beyond a thousand years after.
 A revealing excerpt from the Nature report, “Decoding 
			the ancient Greek astronomical calculator known as the Antikythera 
			Mechanism,” by Tony Freeth (Cardiff University, 
			School of Physics and Astronomy), et al., reads as follows: 2
 
				
				Named after its place of discovery 
				in 1901 in a Roman shipwreck, the Antikythera Mechanism 
				is technically more complex than any known device for at least a 
				millennium afterwards. Its specific functions have remained 
				controversial because its gears and the inscriptions upon its 
				faces are only fragmentary.    
				Here we report surface imaging and 
				high-resolution X-ray tomography of the surviving fragments, 
				enabling us to reconstruct the gear function and double the 
				number of deciphered inscriptions. The mechanism predicted lunar 
				and solar eclipses on the basis of Babylonian 
				arithmetic-progression cycles. The inscriptions support 
				suggestions of mechanical display of planetary positions, now 
				lost. In the second century b.c., Hipparchos developed a 
				theory to explain the irregularities of the Moon’s motion across 
				the sky caused by its elliptic orbit.    
				We find a mechanical realization of 
				this theory in the gearing of the mechanism, revealing an 
				unexpected degree of technical sophistication for the period.
 The bronze mechanism (Fig. 1), probably hand-driven, was 
				originally housed in a wooden-framed case of (uncertain) overall 
				size 315 × 190 × 100 mm (Fig. 2). It had front and back doors, 
				with astronomical inscriptions covering much of the exterior of 
				the mechanism. Our new transcriptions and translations of the 
				Greek texts are given in Supplementary Note “glyphs 
				and inscriptions”. 2
   
				The detailed form of the lettering 
				can be dated to the second half of the second century B.C., 
				implying that the mechanism was constructed during the period 
				150-100 B.C., slightly earlier than previously suggested. This 
				is consistent with a date of around 80-60 B.C. for the wreck 
				from which the mechanism was recovered by some of the first 
				underwater archaeology.   
				We are able to complete the 
				reconstruction of the back door inscription with text from 
				fragment E, and characters from fragments A and F (see Fig. 1 
				legend for fragment nomenclature). The front door is mainly from 
				fragment G.    
				The text is astronomical, with many 
				numbers that could be related to planetary motions; the word 
				“sterigmos” (ΣΤΗΡΙΓΜΟΣ, translated as “station” or “stationary 
				point”) is found, meaning where a planet’s apparent motion 
				changes direction, and the numbers may relate to planetary 
				cycles. We note that a major aim of this investigation is to set 
				up a data archive to allow non-invasive future research, and 
				access to this will start in 2007. Details will be available on
				
				www.antikythera-mechanism.gr 3
 The back door inscription mixes mechanical terms about 
				construction (“trunnions,” “gnomon,” “perforations”) with 
				astronomical periods. Of the periods, 223 is the Saros eclipse 
				cycle (see
				
				Box 1 for a brief explanation 
				of astronomical cycles and periods). We discover the inscription 
				“spiral divided into 235 sections,” which is the key to 
				understanding the function of the upper back dial.
   
				The references to “golden little 
				sphere” and “little sphere” probably refer to the front zodiac 
				display for the Sun and Moon — including phase for the latter.
 The text near the lower back dial includes “Pharos” and “from 
				south (about/around)… Spain (ΙΣΠΑΝΙΑ) ten.”
   
				These geographical references, 
				together with previous readings of “towards the east,” 
				“west-north-west” and “west-south-west” suggest an eclipse 
				function for the dial, as solar eclipses occur only at limited 
				geographical sites, and winds were often recorded in antiquity 
				with eclipse observations. Possibly this information was added 
				to the mechanism during use.
 Turning to the dials themselves, the front dial displays the 
				position of the Sun and Moon in the zodiac, and a corresponding 
				calendar of 365 days that could be adjusted for leap years. 
				Previously, it was suggested that the upper back dial might have 
				five concentric rings with 47 divisions per turn, showing the 
				235 months of the 19-year Metonic cycle.
   
				A later proposal augments this with 
				the upper subsidiary dial showing the 76-year
				
				Callippic cycle. Our optical 
				and X-ray micro-focus computed tomography (CT) imaging confirms 
				these proposals, with 34 scale markings discovered on the upper 
				back dial. On the basis of a statistical analysis analogous to 
				that described for gear tooth counts below, we confirm the 235 
				total divisions.    
				We also find from the CT that the 
				subsidiary dial is indeed divided into quadrants, as required 
				for a Callippic dial. In agreement with the back door 
				inscription, we also substantiate the preceptive proposal that 
				the dial is in fact a spiral made from semicircular arcs 
				displaced to centers on the vertical midline. In the CT of 
				fragment B we find a new feature that explains why the dial is a 
				spiral: a “pointer-follower” device (Fig. 3) traveled around the 
				spiral groove to indicate which month (across the five turns of 
				the scale) should be read.
 From our CT data of the 48 scale divisions observed in fragments 
				A, E and F, we establish 223 divisions in the four-turn spiral 
				on the lower back dial, the spiral starting at the bottom of the 
				dial. This is the Saros eclipse cycle, whose number is on the 
				back door inscription. The 54-year Exeligmos cycle of three
				
				Saros cycles is shown on the 
				lower subsidiary dial.
 
 Between the scale divisions of the Saros dial we have identified 
				16 blocks of characters, or “glyphs” (see “glyphs and 
				inscriptions”) at intervals of one, five and six months. These 
				are eclipse predictions and contain either Σ for a lunar eclipse 
				(from ΣΕΛΗΝΗ, Moon) or Η for a solar eclipse (from ΗΛΙΟΣ, Sun) 
				or both.
   
				A correlation analysis (analogous to 
				DNA sequence matching) with historic eclipse data (all modern 
				eclipse data and predictions in our work are from this 
				reference) indicates that over a period of 400-1 b.c., the 
				sequence of eclipses marked by the identified glyphs would be 
				exactly matched by 121 possible start dates. The matching only 
				occurs if the lunar month starts at first crescent, and confirms 
				this choice of month start in the mechanism.    
				The sequences of eclipses can then 
				be used to predict the expected position of glyphs on the whole 
				dial, as seen in Fig. 4. The dial starts and finishes with an 
				eclipse. Although Ptolemy indicates that the Greeks recorded 
				eclipses in the second century b.c., the Babylonian Saros canon 
				is the only known source of sufficient data to construct the 
				dial. […]
 Of particular note is the dual use of the large gear, e3, at the 
				back of the mechanism, which has found no use in previous 
				models. In our model, it is powered by m3 as part of a 
				fixed-axis train that turns the Saros and Exeligmos dials for 
				eclipse prediction, and also doubles as the “epicyclic table” 
				for the gears k1, k2.
   
				These are part of the epicyclic 
				gearing that calculates the theory of the irregular motion of 
				the moon, developed by Hipparchos some time between 146 and 128 
				b.c. (ref. 22) - the “first anomaly,” caused by its elliptical 
				orbit about the Earth. The period of this anomaly is the period 
				from apogee to apogee (the anomalistic month).    
				To realize this theory, the mean 
				sidereal lunar motion is first calculated by gears on axes c, d 
				and e and this is then fed into the epicyclic system. As 
				explained in Fig. 6, a pin-and-slot device on the epicyclic 
				gears k1 and k2, clearly seen in the CT, provides the variation. 
				This was previously identified, but rejected as a lunar 
				mechanism.    
				The remarkable purpose of mounting 
				the pin-and-slot mechanism on the gear e3 is to change the 
				period of variation from the sidereal month (that is, the time 
				taken for the moon to orbit the Earth relative to the zodiac), 
				which would occur if k1 and k2 were on fixed axes, to 
				anomalistic month — by carrying the gears epicyclically at a 
				rate that is the difference between the rates of the sidereal 
				and anomalistic months, that is, at the rate of rotation of 
				about 9 years of the Moon’s apogee.
 Gears with 53 teeth are awkward to divide. So it may seem 
				surprising that the gearing includes two such gears (f1, l2), 
				whose effects cancel in the train leading to the Saros dial. But 
				the gearing has been specifically designed so that the 
				“epicyclic table” e3 turns at the rate of rotation of the Moon’s 
				apogee — the factor 53 being derived from the calculation of 
				this rotation from the Metonic and Saros cycles, which are the 
				bases for all the prime factors in the tooth counts of the 
				gears.
   
				The establishment of the 53-tooth 
				count of these gears is powerful confirmation of our proposed 
				model of Hipparchos’ lunar theory. The output of this complex 
				system is carried from e6 back through e3 and thence, via e1 and 
				b3, to the zodiac scale on the front dial and the lunar phase 
				mechanism. Our CT confirms the complex structure of axis e that 
				this model entails.
 The Antikythera Mechanism shows great economy and ingenuity of 
				design.
   
				It stands as a witness to the 
				extraordinary technological potential of Ancient Greece, 
				apparently lost within the Roman Empire. 
				
				
				 
				
				'Pointer-follower' device for spiral dial as it appears in x-ray 
				computed tomography;  
				from T. Freeth et 
				al.  
				'Decoding the 
				ancient Greek astronomical calculator known as the Antikythera 
				Mechanism' (Nature)   
			
			 
			Map of the 
			Mediterranean, showing Antikythera area in inset;  
			from Jo Marchant, 'In 
			search of lost time' (Nature) 
			  
				
					
						| 
						Raised From The Depths
 by Jo Marchant
 
						Nature 444, 534-538 
						(30 November 2006) 
						from
						
						Nature Website   
						In 1900 a party of 
						Greek sponge divers sought shelter from a storm in the 
						lee of the barren, rocky islet of Antikythera. Once the 
						winds had eased, Elias Stadiatis dived 42 meters to a 
						rocky shelf to look for late additions to his 
						hard-earned haul. Instead of sponges nestled on the sea 
						bed, the shape of a great ship loomed out of the blue. 
						  
						After grabbing the 
						larger-than-life arm of a bronze figure as proof of his 
						find, he returned to the surface to inform his 
						companions. The Antikythera wreck was to yield a 
						stunning collection of bronze and marble statues, 
						pottery, glassware, jewellery and coins; it was also to 
						claim the life of one of the divers, not yet aware of 
						the risk of the bends when diving with an oxygen hose.
 As busy museum staff struggled to piece together statues 
						and vases, a formless, corroded lump of bronze and wood 
						lay unnoticed. But as the wood dried and shrivelled, the 
						lump cracked open, and on 17 May 1902, archaeologist 
						Valerios Stais noticed that there were gear-wheels 
						inside.
 
 The gears elicited interest, but it was not until 
						investigations delved beneath the surface that the box 
						started to yield its secrets. The British science 
						historian Derek de Solla Price and the Greek nuclear 
						physicist Charalampos Karakalos made X- and gamma-ray 
						images of the fragments in 1971. Karakalos and his wife 
						Emily painstakingly counted the visible teeth; in 1974 
						Price published a heroic 70-page account of the machine 
						(D. de S. Price Trans. Am. Phil. Soc., New Ser.64, 1–70; 
						1974).
 
 "Price really put the mechanism on the map," says Tony 
						Freeth, co-author of a new reconstruction of the device 
						(see page 587). "He understood the essence of what it 
						was — an astronomical computer." But Price massaged some 
						of the data (much to the annoyance of Karakalos and his 
						wife), and his reconstruction was unnecessarily 
						complicated — perhaps too complicated for historians and 
						archaeologists. They largely ignored Price's work, and 
						he died in 1983.
 
 That same year, a Lebanese man walked into the Science 
						Museum in London with the pieces of another ancient 
						mechanism in his pocket. Curator Michael Wright realized 
						the device was a Byzantine sundial from the sixth 
						century AD, which also contained a simple geared 
						mechanism that drove pointers showing the position of 
						the Moon and Sun in the sky. Studying the astronomically 
						enhanced sundial led Wright to Price's treatment of the 
						Antikythera Mechanism, in which he saw serious holes.
 
 Wright ended up working with Allan Bromley, a computer 
						scientist at Sydney University in Australia who had 
						become interested in the Antikythera Mechanism at around 
						the same time. Bromley wanted to study the machine with 
						X-ray tomography, which assembles a sheaf of 
						cross-sections of its subject.
 
						  
						As the fragments 
						could not be moved from the museum, and Bromley didn't 
						have the money to ship a tomography machine to Athens, 
						Wright used his tool-making skills to build a crude 
						tomograph in situ. The two researchers took around 700 
						images of the fragments, and Wright has been working on 
						a reconstruction that supercedes Price's ever since.
 In the meantime, Mike Edmunds, an astrophysicist at 
						Cardiff University, UK, and his friend Tony Freeth, a 
						mathematician-turned-film-maker living in London, 
						decided the mechanism would make a fantastic subject for 
						a documentary. But their efforts soon turned to 
						discovering more about how the device worked.
 
						  
						They contacted 
						Hewlett-Packard, which had developed a method for 
						reading eroded cuneiform tablets that involved building 
						up a composite computer image from pictures taken under 
						light from a wide variety of directions, to reveal more 
						of the inscriptions. 
						  
						They enlisted 
						experts in computer-assisted tomography from British 
						firm XTEC, which developed a new machine just for the 
						Antikythera project. 
						 
						
						In search of lost time M. KIRKDerek de Solla Price tried to undo the Antikythera 
						Mechanism's secrets
 
 
						In autumn 2005, the 
						Hewlett-Packard equipment and all 12 tonnes of XTEC's 
						machinery were shipped to the museum. The results have 
						allowed the team to confirm many of Wright's ideas, and 
						extend them. "My main fear initially was that we'd throw 
						all this technology at it and we wouldn't do more than 
						dot the i's and cross the t's," says Freeth. "But we got 
						more out of it than I dared hope."
 One major new result came as much from chance as from 
						technology; a key section of a dial found sitting 
						unnoticed in the museum's store room helped reveal that 
						one of the dials was used to predict eclipses. Another 
						big discovery was the identification of a 'pin and slot' 
						mechanism to model the varying speed of the Moon through 
						the sky (see main story).
 
 The inscriptions are also revealing novelties, although 
						deciphering them is hard work: some of them are less 
						than 2 millimetres high, and there are no spaces to show 
						where each word starts and finishes. Agamemnon Tselikas, 
						director of the Centre for History and Palaeography in 
						Athens, spent a concentrated three months trying to 
						decipher the wording, working from late at night into 
						the early hours of the morning: "I needed the silence."
 
 So far Tselikas and his colleague Yanis Bitsakis have 
						more than doubled the number of legible characters on 
						the mechanism, which seem to form a manual that explains 
						how the mechanism was to be used.
 
						  
						It takes 
						"imagination and intuition" to decipher the 
						inscriptions, says Tselikas.  
							
							"We are just 
							starting to penetrate the mentality of the user of 
							this machine."  
							Jo Marchant |  
			Intriguing questions demanded by the mere existence of an ancient 
			device of the sophistication and elegance of the Antikythera 
			mechanism, of course, include where did it come from, and who built 
			it?
 
			  
			The wreck on which the toponymically 
			named mechanism was found, had foundered off the island of 
			Antikythera, lying at the western extremity of the Aegean Sea 
			directly astride important trade routes connecting the Aegean — 
			places like Rhodes, a principal trading entrepot, along with points 
			east and north (e.g., Pergamon) — with the western Mediterranean, 
			most importantly the city of Rome itself.  
			  
			Given the cargo of luxury goods aboard 
			(originating to the east of the ship’s final resting place), it 
			seems very likely that the vessel was indeed bound west, quite 
			probably for Rome, when it abruptly sank in 42 meters (138 feet) of 
			water. 
			Where then did the mechanism originate and who might have made it?
 
			  
			A clue is provided by the fact that in 
			addition to the famous mechanism the ship also carried luxury trade 
			goods which have been identified as originating at Rhodes, as well 
			as other goods that are from Pergamon but which may have been 
			transshipped through Rhodes.  
			  
			As noted before, the Antikythera device 
			itself contains an algorithm built-in to express the “first anomaly” 
			of lunar motion which was worked out in the 2nd century b.c. by the 
			Greek astronomer Hipparchos — perhaps greatest of ancient Greek 
			astronomers; who indeed did much of his work at Rhodes — and on 
			which island afterwards the philosopher Poseidonius 
			(contemporaneously regarded as the most learned man of his age; who 
			did astronomical work himself, and at one point instructed Cicero at 
			Rome) established a school.
 Hence the hypothesis that Poseidonius’ school at Rhodes developed 
			the technological traditions — that may have been directly 
			influenced by Hipparchos himself, and which must have taken a good 
			long while to gestate, as the Antikythera mechanism clearly didn't 
			spring whole-cloth out of nowhere — leading to the construction of 
			the machine and others like it; one of which was sent off to Rome.
 
			  
			It never made it, and the rest is 
			(latter day) history. 
			 
			Diagram of 
			eight-geared lunisolar calendar 
			 from al-Biruni's 
			astrolabe treatise of 996 AD
 
			Beyond its jaw-dropping technology and 
			fascinating provenance, the question of what effect the discovery 
			and decipherment of this ancient technology has on our understanding 
			of history itself, as Jo Marchant observes in her Nature companion 
			piece, is perhaps even more intriguing.  
			  
			As she notes, prior to the Antikythera 
			device it was believed that the advent of clockwork-type mechanisms 
			in 14th century Medieval Europe represented the invention of this 
			fundamental technology at around something like that time frame.
			 
			  
			Since Antikythera, however, a geared 6th 
			century a.d. Byzantine sundial with four surviving gears (and which 
			probably originally incorporated at least eight) has turned up; 
			4, 5  while the Medieval Persian scholar/scientist al-Biruni 
			described a “box of the Moon” that is quite like the Byzantine 
			device. (See at right an illustration of an eight-geared lunisolar 
			calendar from al-Biruni’s astrolabe treatise of 996 a.d.)  
			  
			Such an augmented astrolabe from 13th 
			century Iran is still extant today. The step from that to the clocks 
			of 14th century Europe is chronologically and technologically short.
 Thus, the history of gearing and clockwork is being revolutionized. 
			Instead of originating late in the Medieval era, as previously 
			assumed (in a form we now see as suspiciously like that of the 
			Antikythera mechanism), now it appears likely that the tremendously 
			sophisticated gear-work that we see reflected in this machine 
			continued to survive in some form in the Greco-Roman world, as 
			displayed in the 6th century Byzantine device; from 
			whence it found a refuge somewhere during the early Medieval period 
			— perhaps in the Baghdad Caliphate — and it may well be that (after 
			say the Mongol destruction of Baghdad during the 13th century) this 
			technology thereupon migrated with scholarly refugees and ended up 
			influencing the West’s own technological trajectory a century or so 
			later.
 
 As François Charette observes in his Nature companion piece “High 
			tech from Ancient Greece,” 6 all this is not unlike us 
			one fine day discovering that steam engines had actually been 
			invented during the Renaissance, and Newcomen and Watt’s invention 
			of improved steam engines during the 1700’s unbeknownst to us had 
			ultimately derived from that.
 
			
			 
			Archaeologist Martha 
			Dane looks out over the Martian ruins;  
			in H. Beam Piper's 'Omnilingual' 
			(Kelly Freas)
 
			An echo with speculative literature is 
			found in the way that the deciphering of the Antikythera mechanism 
			utilized such details as the number of teeth in the assorted gears 
			(unique ratios identifying which heavenly phenomena are being 
			computed or charted on the dials of the machine) along with such 
			things as historic eclipse patterns (the Saros canon) as important 
			indicators of its meaning and function and aids in reconstruction of 
			the design.  
			  
			This sense of using natural law and 
			natural history as one’s keys to the decipherment, is very much akin 
			to a classic science fiction tale from half a century ago, in which 
			scientists investigating the remains of a disappeared alien race and 
			civilization on their home world (Mars), in attempting to decipher 
			their language — which seemed inherently almost impossible due to 
			lack of a “Rosetta stone” (like the original that assisted in the 
			decipherment of Ancient Egyptian) — ultimately came to realize that 
			science (natural law), knowledge of which was embedded in the 
			technology and writings of the science-savvy aliens, would serve as 
			their universal Rosetta stone.
 That story is “Omnilingual” by H. Beam Piper, 7 first 
			published just fifty years ago, in the February 1957 (1957-02) issue 
			of the extremely influential science fiction magazine then known as
			Astounding Science Fiction, altered a few years later to the 
			still-extant name of 
			
			Analog.
 
			  
			Astounding/Analog for many years was 
			under the inspired editorship of very well-regarded science fiction 
			author John W. Campbell, Jr. — who has since become even 
			better known as the “father of modern science fiction,” as a result 
			of his tutelage and inspiration of a whole generation and host of 
			talented writers — Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, van Vogt, Poul 
			Anderson, the list goes on and on… 
			  
			Piper’s story, I’d venture to suggest, 
			shows every sign of having profited from Campbell’s famous idea 
			generation process vis-a-vis his authors.
 (“Omnilingual” 
			is no longer under copyright today, and can be accessed, with its 
			original Kelly Freas illustrations from Astounding and blurb by John 
			Campbell, at 
			Project Gutenberg.)
 
 The story concludes with the archaeologists reveling in having 
			finally begun comprehending the rudiments of the structure of the 
			Martians’ language, using the periodic table of the elements as a 
			starting point — in the course of which Martha Dane compliments one 
			of her colleagues:
 
				
				“You said we had to find a 
				bilingual,” she said. “You were right, too.”
 “This is better than a bilingual, Martha,” Hubert Penrose said. 
				“Physical science expresses universal facts; necessarily it is a 
				universal language. Heretofore archaeologists have dealt only 
				with pre-scientific cultures.”
 
			As we see with the Antikythera 
			mechanism, one need not go to Mars or Alpha Centauri to encounter a 
			scientific culture in archaeology.  
			  
			However, one can’t help but wonder…
			 
				
					
					
					Had any of the scientists who 
					deciphered the Antikythera machine read “Omnilingual,” lo 
					these many years before or at some moment since? 
					
					Did it influence their work, or 
					even career; did they realize they were retracing the steps, 
					in a sense performing the verification of a scientific 
					hypothesis, which is implicit in the story? 
			
			 
			Martian City in H. 
			Beam Piper's 'Omnilingual' 
			in Feb. 1957 
			Astounding (Kelly Freas) 
			  
			  
			References
 
				
					
					
					Jo Marchant, “In search of lost 
					time,” Nature, Vol. 444, Issue No. 7119 (issue dated 
					2006-11-30), pp. 534-538; doi:10.1038/444534a. See also Box 
					1: Raised from the depths.
					
					T. Freeth, Y. Bitsakis, X. 
					Moussas, J. H. Seiradakis, A. Tselikas, H. Mangou, M. 
					Zafeiropoulou, R. Hadland, D. Bate, A. Ramsey, M. Allen, A. 
					Crawley, P. Hockley, T. Malzbender, D. Gelb, W. Ambrisco, 
					and M. G. Edmunds, “Decoding the ancient Greek astronomical 
					calculator known as the Antikythera Mechanism,” Nature, Vol. 
					444, Issue No. 7119 (issue dated 2006-11-30), pp. 587-591; 
					doi:10.1038/nature05357. Also, Figures and Tables, 
					Supplementary Information, and Box 1: Astronomical cycles 
					known to the Babylonians.
					
					Antikythera Mechanism Research 
					Project: 
					http://antikythera-mechanism.gr/
					
					J.V. Field and M.T. Wright (both 
					of The Science Museum, London, SW7 2DD, England), “Gears 
					from the Byzantines: A portable sundial with calendrical 
					gearing,” Annals of Science, Taylor & Francis, Vol. 42, 
					Issue No. 2, issue dated 1985 March (1985-03), pp. 87-138; 
					doi: 10.1080/00033798500200131.
					
					Francis Maddison (Curator of the 
					Museum of History and Science, Oxford OX1 3AZ, UK), “Early 
					mathematical wheelwork: Byzantine calendrical gearing,” 
					Nature, Vol. 314, Issue No. 6009 (issue dated 1985-03-28), 
					pp. 316-317; doi: 10.1038/314316b0.
					
					François Charette, “High tech 
					from Ancient Greece,” Nature, Vol. 444, Issue No. 7119 
					(issue dated 2006-11-30), pp. 551-552; doi:10.1038/444551a.
					
					H. Beam Piper, “Omnilingual,” 
					Astounding Science Fiction (subsequently Analog), February 
					1957 (1957-02) issue.  
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