CHAPTER 25 #4
Had they broken some moral contract? Would they be punished and sent to hell for this?
Before they could wait too long, groups of missionaries began to preach Protestantism, explaining the rationality of these reforms:
Children, too, were lives worthy of respect and protection.
To love one’s neighbor as oneself should also extend to loving one’s own children as oneself.
Blindly having children without ensuring proper care would only cause them suffering and harm, and this would ultimately result in repercussions for their parents.
Even for the sake of doing good deeds, people should not blindly produce too many children; this, in fact, was a respect for God and the Bible.
When Hedy made this decision, she had almost no hesitation.
She knew that the legalization of abortion was a complex and controversial issue, but at least when it came to contraception, women should have equal rights.
Their bodies belonged entirely to them.
In her previous life, Hedy did not want people to view her as a feminist.
She would not starve herself to fit into men's preferences, becoming as withered as a skeleton, nor did she hold any particular regard for the objectified past of her later years.
Yet, in her later life, she became a symbol for feminists—whom they considered her body exposure on screen a bold and self-assertive act, a quintessential feminist gesture.
The truth, however, was that her nude photo shoot at nineteen had been the result of manipulation and violent coercion by the director.
Having experienced countless wars and turmoil in her previous life, she remained cautious and avoidant when it came to picking sides.
Nevertheless, there was one event that deeply impacted her—Roe v. Wade.
For Americans, this case was like a second civil war.
The women's movement for abortion rights had been brewing since the early 20th century, finally reaching its peak in 1973, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 7-2 to affirm that women's right to abortion was protected under the Constitution.
Those who opposed abortion were vehement, seeing it as a disrespect for the life of the fetus.
The other side argued that women should have the right to make choices about their own bodies.
From Hedy's youth to her old age, this debate persisted, a tug-of-war that seemed like an endless struggle.
She witnessed countless debates, transitioning from a young girl to a married woman, raising children and experiencing marriage.
Looking back to the ancient Middle Ages, abortion was also considered a grave sin.
Yet in the church’s confessional manuals, there were often no guidelines for confessing certain acts.
People silently accepted infanticide, abandonment, and the quiet acts of contraception and abortion.
Hedy chose to separate her own emotions and inclinations from the issue, approaching it with a perspective that was fitting for her time, aiming to revise the protections for women and children.
Sexual abuse of children was a crime, child labor abuse was a crime, and the oppression of women was also a crime.
She did not want to see a widespread witch hunt and brought many matters to the forefront early on.
Each decree she passed was a blend of punishment and reward, using vague but highly charged language to stir public opinion, guiding the nation toward a brighter direction.
At the same time, she established a new holiday—
February 2nd, the Day of Rest.
Citizens across the country were to go to church before dawn to mourn the children who had died prematurely.
These children might have died from parental neglect, from the spread of disease, or even from being torn apart by wild dogs, their bones never recovered.
Every year, thousands of children were hastily born, only to die in pain and despair.
"—People must face the sins they have committed with their own hands," was all the queen explained when some questioned her decision.
On February 2nd, crowds of citizens gathered along the Arno River, forming long lines.
They murmured prayers of rest and placed paper boats and flowers on the water, watching as they slowly drifted away.
Many women came with their children.
As they looked at the white daisies blooming on the river’s surface, and the paper boats swaying gently in the current, they couldn’t help but tear up.
Rest in peace, children.
Heaven will grant you peace and warmth.
May your next life be filled with happiness and love.
Hedy had almost no time to deal with wedding preparations. Her businesses in Milan were gradually shifting to multiple cities across the country, and the penicillin workshop was expanding. The pile of documents on her desk was so high that it nearly reached the ceiling.
Five days before the wedding, she had finally managed to handle most of her burdens and went to see her fiancé.
Leonardo had been very busy lately, and there was still dust from minerals on his clothes.
Fifteen days earlier, Hedy had shown him a fascinating experiment.
—By inserting different metal wires into an apple or potato, and then using these wires to stimulate the legs of a dead frog, the legs would begin to move, almost as if revived.
In order to understand the structure of the battery, this genius had gathered almost every metal he could find into the workshop.
He had a vague sense that there was a peculiar reaction between various metals, but observing these phenomena was like watching a performance through a curtain—it was hard to see anything clearly.
"Maybe we need a... periodic table?" Hedy said, watching how he fiddled with metal plates and saltwater, sitting nearby with curiosity. "What are these two?"
"Zinc plate and silver plate," Leonardo motioned for her to come closer, showing her the wet cloths draped over both ends.
Hedy cautiously touched one, and immediately felt a tingling sensation, as if she had been shocked.
"This is... electricity?" she instinctively sniffed her fingertip and realized that the cloth was soaked with saltwater.
"I don’t even know why this happens," Leonardo said, touching the wet cloth himself, only to quickly retract his hand after being shocked. He turned to her and asked, "Is this the kind of thing you were talking about?"
"It should be," Hedy furrowed her brow. "Does it have something to do with the metals?"
"Not just the metals," Leonardo motioned for Michelangelo to bring over the notebook, explaining the discoveries he had made. "The two metal plates themselves don’t produce this feeling, but as long as there’s a medium between them..."
"It generates an electric current," she replied instinctively.
"Wait, what if we make two giant batteries?!" he suddenly exclaimed.
"What?"
Hedy took the pen and quickly sketched a large reaction chamber, with different materials for the metal plates on either side and a flowing liquid in the middle.
"Maybe this could solve the problem," Hedy's tone became lighter and more energetic. "We should invent an instrument to measure the strength of the current. We can't keep testing the strength with our hands."
"Frogs?" Michelangelo asked instinctively. "Should I buy a box of them?"
"No, something more reliable..." Hedy suddenly remembered something.
She had taken apart a galvanometer before.
It was said to be a product from the 19th century, and by the time she was in physics class, it wasn’t something extraordinary anymore.
It contained a magnet, coils of wire, and some springs...
These adults, who were supposed to be in the studio or the office, spent an entire afternoon gathering all the materials they needed and began crafting various instruments.
The galvanometer was the first to be completed. Hedy vaguely remembered the positions and arrangement of the coils. Although she made a few mistakes, after several attempts, they managed to get it into the right configuration.
As soon as the two ends were connected to the salt bridge, the needle began to swing back and forth, its movement varying depending on the materials used.
The liquid battery came together soon after—
Through repeated experimentation, they discovered that the most suitable conductor was sulfuric acid.
It was highly corrosive—one touch could cause injury—but it reacted most strongly with different metal plates.
Hedy's protective masks and gloves from a few years ago proved invaluable, and several workers watched from a distance near the columns.
The materials for the metal plates were constantly being refined, and more fascinating discoveries kept coming to light.
The two of them spent the entire afternoon amid a pile of chemical apparatus, and as dusk fell, they suddenly realized how long it had been since they had seen each other. They laughed, kissed each other on the forehead, and then on the lips.
Spending an entire afternoon together, even without time to speak of love, seemed more than enough.
They shared their findings with the Florence Academy, sparking further enthusiastic and curious discussions.
With the battery, the generator couldn’t be far behind.
If they could establish a stable electricity supply system—though not as stable or powerful as modern systems—long-distance communication would become a reality.
Hedy could no longer imagine what the world would look like ten or twenty years from now.
If they really did unlock the secrets of electricity with the help of scholars, how quickly would the world move into a technological and industrial revolution?
On the day of February 14th, both the bride and groom nearly arrived late.
According to ancient tradition, they were not supposed to meet before the wedding day, and that was indeed the case—one was conducting electrical experiments at the Florence Academy until midnight, and the other was holding an all-night meeting with officials from both houses of parliament to review and amend legislation.
—Can’t you two just rest a little before the wedding?!
—Do you even know you're getting married?!
Leonardo couldn't escape a few reproachful words from Botticelli. His best man, ever the cynic, still managed to ensure his hair was styled to perfection.
Raphael, along with another young girl, played the role of the flower girl, their basket filled with red and white rose petals.
Hedy was escorted out by Mr. Rucellai.
She appeared like a goddess of the sun, her smile serene and composed.
The genius painter had designed the most magnificent wedding gown for her, even more luxurious than the one from Genoa.
From the hem of the skirt to the flowing sleeves, it seemed as if countless stars were scattered within, her every movement shimmering with light.
Golden thread wove intricate embroidery, with the wings of a phoenix intermingling with the fabric, so that when she lifted her sleeve, it resembled the soaring wings of a bird.
She smiled as she walked toward him, the jewels in her earrings and necklace gleaming brilliantly.
The sun, moon, and stars seemed to surround her hands and feet, yet they couldn't compare to the hue of her pale blue eyes.
Her gently curled black hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, as classical and noble as a Roman aristocrat.
The man gazed at his beloved from afar, as though time itself had stopped with his breath.
—This was his love.
The only one, the one who belonged solely to him.
"Whether poor or rich."
"Whether poor or rich."
"Whether in health or in sickness."
"Whether in health or in sickness."
"I will love you, respect you, and cherish you."
"I will love you, respect you, and cherish you."
Their fingers were tightly intertwined as they gazed at each other, their eyes imprinted with each other's light and shadow, their voices blending like the resonating notes of a violin.
"—Until death do us part."