Standard Candles

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The observatory was warm in the mist. Light spilled out of the administrative windows on the second floor, and played against the moving trees at the edge of the parking lot.

Carlisle was driving too fast, kicking up gravel, alternately flooring and releasing the pedal. He was impatient with the long uphill climb. The wipers sloshed back and forth, and the branches shut off the sky.

There would be a short staff tonight, because of the overcast. But he didn't care about viewing conditions: the Andromeda galaxy could have been blazing overhead, flooding the mountains with light, an d he would not have been more excited.

His printouts had worked their way out of his inside jacket pocket. He pushed them back down, affectionately. The numbers were gorgeous, and they flowed through him, and warmed him. My God, how he loved blue stars.

The road went up and up, and at last he bounced out of the forest and rolled into the parking lot. He jerked to a stop beside Boddiker's van and was out of the car, not caring about the cold drizzle, not stopping to lock up. He climbed the three concrete stairs at the front of the building, caught his breath, and went inside.

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