“This is
amazing, PaPa! I can see the moon!”
“I’m glad you can see the moon. But that’s not what makes this new lens so
incredible.” Professor Moraty gently took the planetarium's telescope from his
young grandson. “Let me show you what it
can do.”
He focused on the moon and made some crucial calibrations, twisting
dials and punching buttons. He smiled
with satisfaction and invited Billy to look again.
“Oh, my gollies! Is
that the Moon Rover?”
“Yes, it is, Billy!”
“It’s moving, PaPa! It’s
moving! I can see Moon Rover traveling across
the surface of the moon, even though it 284,000 miles away!”
“Yes, Billy. You are a
very smart boy.” Billy was only eight,
but he had already skipped two grades.
“How is that possible?”
“It’s a very powerful lens, with an incredible range. It’s able to pick very small objects, particularly
those in motion.”
“So, it’s got a built-in motion detector? Like what turns on
our porch light when a squirrel runs by?”
“Not exactly. But
close enough.” As precocious as his
grandson was, he did not want to get bogged down trying to explain advanced
scientific details.
Billy stared through the lens for a few minutes, as the
telescope seemed to adjust on its own to track the Moon Rover’s movements. Soon, though, Billy wanted to see more. The professor took back the telescope and
made new adjustments to it.
“Wow, PaPa! What is
that?”
“That is one of Jupiter’s moons, Europa. That shining surface you see is an ocean of
ice.”
“Gee, skeeterkins! Are
we the first ones to see this?”
“Well, I don’t know.
Certainly, we are the first to see it from this planetarium.”
“Let’s find what’s moving!”
Billy pointed to a button on the telescope’s thick column. “Is this the motion detector button?” Before Papa could answer, he pressed it. The telescope moved slightly, and then
calibrate.
“I’m not sure what you’d find moving. Europa is 390 million miles away. That might strain even this new lens.”
Billy looked through the lens again. “Something’s bursting through the ice!”
“You mean, there’s a water vapor plume? Sometimes the gases build, and they shatter
part of the ice and send a plume of water skyward.”
“I don’t think that’s what I’m seeing. Something’s coming out of the ice!”
“What do you mean?
Something?”
“It’s…it’s….wow! It’s
like a lobster, but huge! And it’s kinda
like a bear too!”
“Nonsense, Billy. Don’t
tease your PaPa.”
“It’s a lobster bear!
I swear! And it’s looking right
at me!”
“Let me see.” The
professor gently tapped Billy aside and looked through the lens. The sight caused him to yelp in
surprise. He was looking at a large
creature, it’s torso and head out of the waters. It had a lobster-like
exoskeleton, but with its head protruding beyond its helmet, it was indeed
bear-like.
Professor Moraty punched a different button that started the
images recording. “I need to contact the University. And NASA.” He wasn’t sure about NASA. Not yet.
He wanted others to confirm what he was seeing, and he didn’t want to
lose control to the government, at least not right away.
He looked back at the creature. It still seemed to be staring right into the
lens. How could it know? Even if it could see the light or emanations
from the telescope. The time delay in reaching it would prevent it from
reacting already. It must be an illusion
of some kind.
Then one of its lobster-like claws opened up. Inside was a
three-fingered hand. Two of the fingers
curled back, leaving the middle finger still standing straight up.
“Is it waving?” said Billy.
“I’ll bet it’s happy to see us. I’ll
bet it’s glad to know someone else is out there.”
Maybe. But probably not. Unless flipping the bird means something else
in whatever culture this creature is steeped in. What are the odds of giving the finger being
a universal gesture? “No, Billy. I don’t think it knows it’s being looked at.”
What were the odds? That
we’d finally found extraterrestrial life, and it was mad because we’d violated
its privacy?
The Professor and Billy had seen through a new lens, and the
universe would never be the same.
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