The Unwanted Lecture

Author’s Note: A Bonus Chapter from Red Sky

This scene, originally written over a decade ago, never made it into the main body of Red Sky. It stands apart from the central plot, but I’ve always held onto it—partly for sentimental reasons, and partly because it captures an important dimension of the relationship between Cynthia Volynsky and her father, Manny.

In this flashback to Cynthia’s graduate school days at Princeton, we see her wrestling with the tension between science and belief, family loyalty and academic pressure. It’s a snapshot of her younger self, caught between embarrassment and admiration for her father’s unorthodox ideas. Manny’s passion for ancient history—and his willingness to stand alone in his convictions—shapes much of what follows in Red Sky, even if this chapter doesn’t move the plot forward directly.

I share it here not as part of the final canon of the novel, but as a window into the characters’ emotional backstory. For those who’ve grown curious about Cynthia and Manny’s bond, this little episode might offer something extra.

—Tim Malone

The Unwanted Lecture

“I hate it when you talk about end-of-the-world stuff,” Cynthia said. If her words weren’t enough, she hoped the look on her face made it clear. She walked beside her father into the classroom, arms folded, eyes tight.

Cynthia Volynsky, a sharp graduate student in seismology, didn’t like being in her father’s Egyptology lecture at Princeton. She usually spent her time in the seismology lab, where complex instruments came easily to her. But today, she needed the graduate credit, and her father’s was the only open session.

“Shush,” Manny said. “The rest of the students will be here any minute. I know you struggle with my theories, but let me finish my teaching career with some dignity. A little respect during class would be nice.”

Manny Volynsky, eccentric, endearing, and in his final year of teaching, had become more passionate and more unconventional after Cynthia’s mother passed. He often forgot to comb his hair, misplaced his glasses—which, as usual, sat right on top of his head.

Cynthia tried not to giggle as he finally found them. He turned to the chalkboard.

“Dad, you know I’m only taking this class because I had no other choice. Just… tone it down today, okay? I know you’re excited, but the ‘end of the world’ shows up in every lecture.”

She popped her gum. He hated that. She didn’t care.

“If the dean sat in for just one of your lectures, you’d probably be out of here.”

Manny turned around slowly, looking at her over his glasses. She knew that look. She’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said, her voice softening. “You know your stuff. You make it interesting. But please, don’t bring religion into it again. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m just worried your desire to prove the Alternative Chronology is going to get you in trouble,” Cynthia said, fiddling with a pencil. “Trying to force ancient scripture into real history just… it doesn’t fit.”

Manny marched to the front row and stood with hands on hips. “And who made you the final judge of history, young lady? Since when is religion not part of history? That’s like baking cookies without dough.”

Cynthia laughed at the way he wagged his finger when he got worked up. That was still her dad.

“Forty years I’ve been at this,” Manny said. “Do you know the day I discovered conventional Egyptian chronology was wrong? That moment changed my life. Haven’t I taught you anything this year?”

Class Begins

Cynthia’s friend Jody walked in and flopped into a seat in the front row. She believed visibility improved grades. She wasn’t wrong.

“You’ve taught us plenty, Professor. Were you two talking about the assignment?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Cynthia muttered. “He might spend the whole class on it.”

“Actually, I had a question,” Jody said, smiling. “It’s about the timing of the fall of the Middle Kingdom.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. Jody knew that agreeing with her dad was the quickest route to an A. Her father’s textbook used the controversial Revised Chronology. Most of the academic world rejected it.

Other students filtered in. Manny brightened.

“Go ahead, Jody,” he said. “What caught your attention?”

“I understand the basics of the Eleventh and Twelfth Dynasties. But your timeline places them about five hundred years earlier than the standard. Isn’t that a little… isolated?”

Cynthia slumped in her seat.

“That’s the beauty of it!” Manny beamed. “It opens the door to aligning sacred and secular histories. With my model, we can accurately date the Exodus. Isn’t that extraordinary?”

Cynthia glanced around. Nobody else seemed excited. Even Jody looked unconvinced. Still, she stayed with it. Credit where credit was due.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Jody said, looking around the room. “But shouldn’t a graduate seminar align with peer-reviewed research? What if no one takes our papers seriously because they cite the Volynsky Chronology?”

Secular and Religious Chronology

Cynthia winced. Jody had voiced what most were thinking.

Manny didn’t flinch. “A fair concern. But this lecture is right on topic. Much of history is a search for evidence of divine interaction with mankind. Adjusting Egypt’s timeline removes the so-called ‘dark ages’ in Greece and solves the long-standing question of when the Exodus occurred.”

“But Professor, this isn’t a religion class,” Jody countered. “We’re here to study what archaeology can prove, not biblical interpretation.”

Cynthia stood before she realized she would. “I think what Dr. Volynsky is trying to say is that he’s proposed a solution to a real historical problem. Just because he’s the only one advocating for it doesn’t mean it should be dismissed. If his research answers a valid question, it deserves discussion.”

She looked directly at Jody. “This may not be a religion class, but we’re studying ancient cultures deeply tied to religious thought. I read the homework. His chronology is different. But it’s also… interesting.”

She sat, cheeks flushed. Her father smiled.

“Both Jody and Cynthia have raised good points,” he said. “No, this isn’t a religion class. But education will eventually lead you to ask questions about meaning, belief, and purpose. My work? It’s about those questions. The Revised Chronology may be mine alone, but it’s my life’s work, and I stand by it.”

Cynthia thought of the many unpublished manuscripts in his office. Especially the one about near-planetary collisions. Sounded like science fiction. Or maybe a bestseller.

“I discovered what caused the Exodus while digging into forgotten manuscripts,” Manny said. “That’s the key. A good historian goes where the evidence leads.”

Here he goes again, Cynthia thought. But when she looked around, something was different. For the first time, the class was actually listening. Some with curiosity. Some with respect.

“Can you picture it? Two worlds on a near-collision course. Scientists say the Roche limit would prevent such proximity. But they underestimate the power of plasma. Electromagnetic forces are thousands of times stronger than gravity. History tells us what science has yet to believe.”

Class is Over

The bell rang.

A few students groaned.

Cynthia was stunned. Her father had lost track of the syllabus, but he had won the room.

“Read Chapter Twelve,” Manny called as students shuffled out. “Next time, we dive into the Middle Kingdom and the Exodus timeline.”

She stayed behind.

“Aren’t you off to your next class?” Manny asked, stacking papers.

“I just wanted to say I love you.”

She kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled, touched her hand. “You’re all grown up. But you’ll always be my little girl.”

She turned. He tapped her lightly on the backside.

“What was that for?”

“For thinking you know everything. You don’t.”

“But I will. I’m going to be a seismologist.”

“I know you are. You can do anything.”

She smiled, stepping out of the room, full of pride and love.