Suddenly, at 7.30 P.M. on July 10, 1908, the coldest place on earth—the coldest place in the entire history of the earth—was inside a small glass tube in a messy laboratory in Groningen, the Netherlands, where the temperature was a cool 269 degrees below freezing. That’s centigrade; it would be minus 452° Fahrenheit. Inside the tube were 60 cc of liquid helium, produced for the first time in history by a Dutch physicist today virtually and unfairly unknown to the general public, Heike Kamerlingh Onnes—unfairly unknown, for unlike the results discussed in the last two chapters on MORB geochemistry, this feat of engineering physics has had profound practical consequences. The utilization of fire was the first giant leap for mankind, but its opposite, the search for cold, has been an ongoing human activity through recorded history. (Actually, there is no such thing as cold; there are only lesser amounts of heat. Absolute zero, minus 273° centigrade, is unattainable, as “explained” by a complex quantum theory argument, and there are no minus numbers on the Absolute, or Kelvin, scale.) But in practical terms, no one cared, the important thing was to get ice for food preservation through the hot summers, and until nearly a hundred years ago the only way to do that was to bring it down from the high northern latitudes or, in the in-between latitudes, to store the winter’s ice underground. By the last quarter of the nineteenth century, some progress began to be made in utilizing that marvelous insight into nature, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, to bring some sort of mechanical cooling into people’s lives. The law can be stated in various ways, but for this purpose the simplest is that heat flows from hot to cold. What could be simpler? And yet it has profound consequences. When you want a cold drink, you put in ice cubes and the heat flows from the warm scotch to the cold ice cubes, cooling down the scotch. But as the ice melts, it dilutes the scotch, which is a problem.