5
Refraction
At 40 million kilometers, the Sun was a chained hell. It boiled in black space, no longer the brilliant dot that the children of Earth took for granted and easily, unconsciously, avoided with their eyes. Across millions of miles it pulled. Compulsively, one felt a need to look, but the need was dangerous.
From the Bradbury, it had the apparent size of a nickel held a foot away from the eye. The specter was too bright to be endured undiminished. To "catch a glimpse" of this orb, as one sometimes did on Earth, would invite blindness. The Captain ordered the ship's stasis screens polarized and the regular viewing ports sealed.
The Lyot window was unshuttered in the Lounge, so that passengers could examine the lifegiver without injury.
Jacob paused in front of the round window in a late night pilgrimage to the coffee machine, half awake from a fitful sleep in his tiny stateroom. For minutes he stared, blank faced, still only half conscious, until a lisping voice roused him.
"Dish ish the way your shun looksh from the Aphelion of the orbit of Mercury, Jacob."
Culla sat at one of the card tables in the dimly lit lounge. Just behind the alien, above a row of vending machines, a wall clock read "04:30" in glowing numbers.
Jacob's sleepy voice was thick in his throat. "Have... um... are we that close already?"
Culla nodded. "Yesh."
The alien's lip grinders were tucked away. His big folded lips pursed and let out a whistle each time he tried to pronounce an English long "s." In the dim light his eyes reflected a red glow from the viewing window.
"We have only two more days until we arrive," the alien said. His arms were crossed on the table in front of him. The loose folds of his silver gown covered half of the surface.
Jacob, swaying slightly, turned to glance back at the port. The solar orb wavered before his eyes.
"Are you all right?" the Pring asked anxiously. He started to rise.
"No. No, please." Jacob held up his hand. "I'm just groggy. Not 'nuff sleep. Need coffee."
He shambled toward the vending machines, but halfway there he stopped, turned, and peered again at the image of the furnace-sun.
"It's red!" he grunted in surprise.
"Shall I tell you why while you get your coffee?" Culla asked.
"Yes, please." Jacob turned back to the dark row of food and beverage dispensers, looking for a coffee spout.
"The Lyot window only allowsh in light in monochromatic form," Culla said. "It ish made of many round platesh; some polarizersh and some light retardersh. They are rotated with reshpect to one another to finely tune which wavelength ish allowed through.
"Itsh a most delicate and ingenioush device, although quite obsholete by Galactic standarsh... like one of the 'Shwiss' watchesh some humansh shtill wear in an age of electronicsh. When your people become adept with the Library such... Rube Goldbersh?... will be archaic."
Jacob bent forward to peer at the nearest machine. It looked like a coffee machine. There was a transparent panel door, and behind that a little platform with a metal grill drain at the bottom. Now, if he pushed the right button, a disposable cup should drop onto the platform and then, from some mechanical artery would pour a stream of the bitter black beverage he wanted.
As Culla's voice droned on in his ears, Jacob made polite sounds. "Uh, huh... yes, I see."
At the far left, one of the buttons was lit with a green light. On impulse, he pressed it.
He watched the machine blearily. Now! That was a buzz and a click! There's the cup! Now... what the hell?
A large yellow and green pill fell into the cup.
Jacob lifted the panel and took out the cup. A second later a stream of hot liquid spilled through the empty space where the cup had been, disappearing in the drain below.
Dubiously, he glowered down at the pill. Whatever it was, it wasn't coffee. He rubbed his eyes with his left wrist, one at a time. Then he sent an accusing glance at the button he'd pressed.
That button had a label, he now saw. It read "E.T. Nutrient Synthesis." Below the label a computer card stuck out from a data slot. The words "Pring: Dietary Supplement—Coumarin Protein Complex" were printed along the protruding end.
Jacob looked quickly at Culla. The alien continued his explanation while he faced the Lyot window. Culla waved one arm toward the Sun's Dantean brilliance to emphasize a point.
"Thish ish now the red alpha line of Hydrogen," he said. "A very useful shpectral line. Inshtead of being overwhelmed by huge amountsh of random light from all levelsh of the Shun, we can now look at only those regions where elemental Hydrogen absorbsh or emitsh more than normal..."
Culla pointed to the Sun's mottled surface. It was covered with dark reddish speckles and feathery arches.
Jacob had read about them. The feathery arches were "filaments." Viewed against space, at the solar limb, they were the prominences that had been seen since the first time a telescope was used during an eclipse. Culla apparently was explaining the way these objects were viewed head-on.
Jacob considered. Throughout the voyage from Earth, Culla had refrained from eating his meals with the others. All he would do is sip an occasional vodka or beer with a straw. Although he had given no reasons, Jacob could only assume that the being had some cultural inhibition against eating in public.
Come to think of it, he thought, with those mashies for teeth it could get a little messy. Apparently I've barged in while he's having breakfast and he's too polite to mention it.
He glanced at the tablet which still lay in the cup in his hand. He dropped the pill into his jacket pocket and crumpled the cup into a nearby trash bin.
Now he could see the button which was labeled "Coffee-Black." He smiled ruefully. Maybe it would be best to skip the coffee and not run the risk of offending Culla. Although the E.T. had made no objections, be had kept his back turned while Jacob visited the food and beverage machines.
Culla looked up as Jacob approached. He opened his mouth slightly and for an instant the human caught a glimpse of white porcelain.
"Are you lesh... groggy, now?" the alien asked solicitously.
"Yesh, uh yea, thanks... thanks also for the explanation. I always thought of the Sun as a pretty smooth place... except for Sunspots and prominences. But I guess it's actually pretty complicated."
Culla nodded. "Doctor Kepler ish the expert. You will get a better explanation from him when you go on a dive with ush."
Jacob smiled politely. How carefully these Galactic Emissaries were trained! When Culla nodded, was the gesture personally meaningful? Or was it something he had been taught to do at certain times and places around humans?
Dive with us!?
He decided not to ask Culla to repeat the remark.
Better not to press my luck, he thought.
He started to yawn. Just in time he remembered to stifle it behind his hand. No telling what a similar gesture would mean on the Pring home planet! "Well, Culla, I think I'm going to go back to my room and try for a little more sleep. Thanks for the talk."
"You are mosht entirely welcome, Jacob. Good night."
He shuffled down the hall and barely made it to bed before he was fast asleep.
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The Real Culture War
