Star Matters

by David John West

  The Worders were concerned to assess the success of Duncan’s mission to help guide Professor Kitteridge accurately to define his theories about the origins and future of the universe. It was critical at this stage that scientists on Earth discovered the basic fundamentals of space travel and Professor Kitteridge’s work showed most promise to produce that knowledge. The rocketry technology deployed on Earth at this time was as likely to reach the stars as attempting to discover the Americas by setting off swimming from the west coast of Ireland. Duncan’s mission had been to progress Kitteridge’s thinking on the nature of dark matter so that in time earthly humans could develop space travel by Dark Matter Fusion Drives to generate the immense power required to warp space. DMF drives were used by all the human space travellers in the galaxy in some form to bend space to connect target destinations to points of departure. Where material or living beings were being moved, these DMF drives were used to power the craft that carried cargoes across the galaxy.

  Lykke was the first Worder to address the newly returned Guide of Dawn on business matters, “Welcome back, Duncan, now you have had the chance to settle down, let’s talk about how we stand with Professor Kitteridge?” she asked.

  “He is perceptive and suspects that I was more than earthly human due to the insights I was passing to him. He was developing nicely and he was close to being ready for me to open up to phase Revelation safely. Then of course I was so rudely interrupted by the Zarnha murderers and returned here. I would say that Professor Kitteridge is far more open to the presence of alien races across the cosmos and how they could relate to humans on Earth than most cosmologists we have dealt with before. They were more at ease with the physics of star systems and the planetary bodies than contemplating the anthropology of alien life forms. There was an issue in his mind that he thought alien life forms would be bad for Earth as he was mostly concerned that more advanced races might use the Earth for their own purposes, and farm humans on Earth like humans on his world farm animals and fish. He was right there of course if the Zarnha get their way rather than us!”

  “And what happens now, Duncan? We have Keeran, Alron and Amily right there, they may pick up from where you left off as it fits well with their own mission, but your experience demonstrates the Zarnha are obviously on to us as well now,” mused Ghazan.

  “Fortunately, I did get time to speak with Keeran when he arrived in Cambridge. He knows my plans and progress with Professor Kitteridge and my removal will precipitate Keeran to continue my work. I said my spirit farewells to him before I left and he knows all the facts of the matter,” replied Duncan.

  Lykke added, “Amily has carried out guidance missions on Earth with great success previously. There is a significant guidance role in her current mission in Cambridge with Keeran and Alron. She will surely see how to pick up your work with Professor Kitteridge and involve herself directly as your replacement.” Lykke was playing out the current circumstances after Duncan’s demise in her mind’s eye as they were speaking. The Worders would later plan out the current Earth campaign situation in their role to plot future events and move their various agent resources into position to ensure best outcomes for humans on Earth. “But we can never ensure success of our missions from here on Chamarel, we can only plan our best and then let situations take their course – c’est la vie.” The three Worders smiled at the patient planning, monitoring and countering that was their way of life. It was always tempered by mild overtones of frustration that they were reliant on their agents to succeed in the complex interactions with the local population as well as other alien forces present and active in the same theatre of operations. All this perforce out of real-time synchronisation due to the necessities of managing campaigns across the massive chasm of space.

  Chiara, the only Worder in bodily form, was the most practical, “It would seem the challenge for us all is to reinsert Duncan back in the Cambridge theatre of operations as fast as is feasible. If he returns with rebirth as jejeune, then we would have to wait his entire youth of eighteen plus Earth years for him to start to be effective again. Admittedly that would be in bodily form which is most powerful but our success on planet Earth is presently measured in months not years. We simply do not have that kind of time for him to grow up again.”

  “I agree,” said Duncan. “There is one Earth year left at most before we must make our mark and the end of the Baktun on Earth. With Keeran, Amily and Alron already there embodied, if I return solely-soul then at least I can commune with them and my knowledge and protection will be available to them right away. Unlikely I will be of any use directly to Earth locals but I can at least protect them invisibly too. The other thing is it looks like Omeyn MuneMei has some kind of Zarnha spirit spectre capable of monitoring us that we have not encountered before. Solely-soul I may be able to identify and monitor such an abomination better than my colleagues in bodily form.”

  Ghazan said, “I would not normally see the point in sending a Traveller of Dawn solely-soul with all the disadvantages of being unable to interact with the local population but this case would seem to be the exception that proves this rule. We have to make progress in months and we have a team already in place in bodily form. It would seem that Duncan’s usefulness solely-soul could actually be heightened in these circumstances. He will be able to travel and watch without concern of bodily safety and he can pass any information through the three Pointers already there.”

  “It’s an ideal situation I think,” said Duncan. “Solely-soul I can be a better Guide of Dawn in that I can watch over Professor Kitteridge whenever I wish. Not only is there the Zarnha spectre to worry about but the professor’s health is failing too and we must preserve him to finish his work.”

  “It does seem that speed is of the essence, Duncan.” Lykke had the air of asking a favour. “We would normally love your company here for a period of relaxation and updates on our progress in all theatres but in this particular case we may have to ask you to return with indecent haste. Would you mind terribly… ?”

  Duncan paused to stare through the window wall to the beautiful scene beyond. A pair of enormous fish eagles large enough to carry him off were skimming the lake below, their black plumage and white heads with great golden beaks a counterpoint to the azure and veridian of lake and trees. “I must admit I was looking forward to a stay in our home range at the end of my last life but I must go back and help finish what I started, before being so crudely interrupted. In any case I should be back here within a short period when our tasks are complete and then I can return and restart my cycle as normal.”

  Lykke smiled, “We were rather hoping you would see it that way, Duncan. You will at least enjoy our hospitality for a few days before your return. That is absolutely the least we could do.”

  TWENTY

  It was after breakfast that Joe popped in to the Porters’ Lodge to check his pigeonhole for messages. The Porters’ Lodge had been recently remodelled and presented a brightly lit glass-fronted office where several porters were usually to be found to welcome and validate visitors entering from Silver Street, which was the only non-college member’s access to Queens’ College. Another door gave access to the courtyard on the west side of the famous Mathematical Bridge over the Cam that split Queens’ College into the old part on the east and the new on the west. Opposite the porters’ office window the wall was furnished with wooden racks sufficient for each of five hundred plus college members to have a slot with their names above in alphabetical order.

  A small buff-coloured envelope bearing a St John’s College crest nestled amongst Joe’s usual society notices and work schedules. Joe opened the envelope on the short walk back to his room and found a card inviting him to tea with Professor Kitteridge at his office in Chapel Court at St John’s College after science practicals that Thursday afternoon. He was sitting at the crusty wooden table in front of his window looking over the new restaurant of Cripps Building. He turned the card
over with his left hand whilst lifting his coffee mug with the other, deciding what to do about it. He knew that Doctor McGregor had been Professor Kitteridge’s Gayan guide and his shock demise would affect Professor Kitteridge beyond the normal grief one academic friend would feel for another. It would seem that Professor Kitteridge not only was aware of the loss of Doctor McGregor’s guidance but that he was capable of tracing the intriguing trail quickly to Joe.

  Joe first called Charlotte and determined that she had not received a similar invitation. She had not, and agreed that Kitteridge’s invitation showed he was aware of a broader connection than just that of Doctor McGregor. Her view was that Joe should definitely attend the tea. After all Professor Kitteridge was the primary scientific thought leader of his generation and had been supported by Dawn of Gaya for over two decades so it made sense to continue that work as McGregor had wanted, and it was unsurprising that Kitteridge could work out partly at least what had been going on and how it may lead to a broader mystical group now McGregor had passed through.

  Joe next called Daniel at Jesus College and he had also received the invitation from Kitteridge to tea the same afternoon. This meant that Professor Kitteridge’s insight went beyond Doctor McGregor’s local connection to Joe at Queens’ College and meant that Professor Kitteridge had been researching Joe’s own social and work group for these connections and somehow realised the significance of both himself and Daniel in the Doctor McGregor context. As in the conversation with Charlotte, Daniel agreed that there was nothing to be lost in accepting the invitation; indeed, all was to be gained by understanding Professor Kitteridge’s appreciation and intentions. It should be no surprise that Professor Kitteridge was so capable in tracking them down; it was they that had appreciated his intellect in the first case.

  Thursday came around and Joe was a little delayed at the zoology laboratory practical. He had always been interested in the social organisation of animals that massed and swarmed without the benefit of nervous systems sufficiently large to develop brains capable of supporting soul identities. Here on Earth there were very many insect colonies: ants, termites and bees, before even considering planktons and corals in the oceans. Today’s lab study had been examination of live locust, only a few individuals as a swarm of locust would be a little difficult to contain in the department’s laboratories in Downing Street, but even a few beady-eyed individuals looked menacing when stripping a green leaf branch. The zoology department would be hesitant to risk the escape of a locust swarm on the town market. It was only a few hundred yards back to Queens’ but he decided to go straight to St John’s College through the interesting market behind Great St Mary’s church and then along Trinity Street past Caius and Trinity colleges to St John’s College.

  He checked in with the Porters’ Lodge at St John’s College situated just inside the narrow castellated red and ochre brick gateway. He was expected on a visitors’ list and guided through First Court to Chapel Court where Professor Kitteridge had his office in the ochre-stone block next to the Chapel overlooking the Master’s Garden. Professor Kitteridge’s office was behind a solid mellow wooden door on the staircase immediately next to the Chapel. Joe knocked and was let in by the slender, stooped figure of Professor Kitteridge. Joe was taken first by the glow of late afternoon sun streaming in the stone-mullioned window, suffusing the whole room. He waited a second to adjust his eyes as he watched Professor Kitteridge in the process of pouring tea from a blue and white china teapot into matching cups and saucers, sitting next to a plate of chocolate digestive biscuits on a low coffee table.

  Four comfy chairs in academic shabby-chic worn leather were set at the four sides of the table and Daniel and Christopher were perched on the front edge of the chairs, knees tightly bent to help as they both received their teacups. Professor Kitteridge knew how to hit the spot with teatime treats for hungry undergraduates and the biscuits soon disappeared. Daniel met Joe’s gaze and glanced meaningfully towards Christopher. Neither had expected Christopher to also be invited and this pointed to Professor Kitteridge not having full grasp of Doctor McGregor’s network.

  Professor Kitteridge was dressed in his standard garb, brown tweed academic jacket with brown leather buttons over a well-worn denim shirt and nondescript trousers well short of his brown loafers to show a length of dun-coloured socks. He was thin to the point of being scrawny, somewhere middle-aged and timeless. He welcomed them with an engagingly wide grin, black-framed spectacles and long limp brownish hair falling across his forehead and over his ears. He was instantly disarming, “I hope you don’t mind my invitation at short notice but I thought it appropriate for us to mark the passing of our dear friend Doctor McGregor?” he queried with charming politesse.

  Christopher sprang to reply. “Of course not, Professor. It’s very kind of you to invite us. Doctor McGregor would be very pleased, I am sure.” Christopher sounded gushing as he was in fact mystified as to why the great professor should have invited him with Daniel and Joe. He hardly knew Daniel, just a brief encounter with the impressive sportsman from St John’s College when Joe had invited Daniel for a drink at Queens’ bar. Surely there were very many associates of the late Doctor McGregor who could have been there? Meanwhile, Daniel and Joe had covered the surprise of Christopher’s attendance by concentrating on milking and sugaring their teas and adjusting their seating ahead of taking first sips of hot tea.

  Professor Kitteridge’s mind was whirring fast despite his affable exterior manner. Tea with undergrads was such a common event that part of what was occurring was automatic. He welcomed the three young men whilst watching each carefully in turn. All three were science undergraduates though Daniel was a medic which somehow conferred added maturity compared to pure science students. Daniel’s athletic poise and size augmented this assessment. Christopher fitted the more normal model of geeky scientist well, being all eagerness in the presence of the famous professor, Joe was quiet and very still like a woodland pool shrouded in dawn mist. One thing was clear immediately: these three were not one clique. There were undercurrents that showed that all three were connected to Doctor McGregor but not at the same level or in the same way. This was not lost on Christopher either. He did not consider himself to be intuitive but he felt an outsider somehow in the context of the meeting between the other three.

  Professor Kitteridge continued, “Yes, I invited you along because I am aware that Doctor McGregor thought very highly of you all. He was a great support and strength to me, more so in fact than anyone could understand, so I thought it would be good for us to meet together and see if that can continue in some way now he has passed on.” There was a murmur of assent around the table. Joe and Daniel considering where Professor Kitteridge’s future Guide of Dawn support would come from, Christopher was amazed that Professor Kitteridge would be so considerate of undergraduates and that Doctor McGregor had such influence in their favour.

  Once again, Christopher led the conversation from their side. Joe and Daniel seemed oddly reserved, and the significance of the moment meant that time passed quickly for Christopher and he sprang into the pauses he saw as overly long. “I can only say Professor that I for one am a keen follower of your theories and it’s my goal to pursue research into cosmology in your department. If you will have me, of course?” he added somewhat lamely.

  Professor Kitteridge noted Christopher’s gallantry, gauche though it was, and smiled encouragingly. He then turned to the other two and looked at them closely. Joe’s clear blue eyes and Daniel’s near black eyes looked back without an ounce of youthful naivety, the opposite of Christopher. He knew then; these two had the same look of infinite calm that he had only ever seen before in his friend Doctor McGregor. Despite Joe and Daniel’s very different appearances, Kitteridge was struck by the look from both and that they were too much of a pair to have just met as undergraduates from different colleges at Cambridge University. It was as if he, the famous cosmologist and astrophysicist, was back i
n his own youth taking supervision from his early teachers. He blinked under the weight of their regard and felt grateful for the protective comfort of the additional layer of the glazed screens of his spectacles.

  Daniel showed his medical background by asking, “How are you feeling in yourself after the shock, Professor Kitteridge?”

  “I am feeling a bit out of sorts with my old friend’s departure of course and sometimes I think it’s more than that. I am feeling a little old before my time. The medics here have checked me out but can’t seem to give me a diagnosis of the problem. It’s like my muscles and joints don’t always do as I tell them,” Professor Kitteridge explained.

  “Well, if it’s anything to do with missing the wise advice of Doctor McGregor, I am certain the he would have put in place others to help if he could,” suggested Joe. “Starting with Christopher, of course. He is the budding astrophysicist amongst us and I am sure Doctor McGregor would have liked him to work with you.” Christopher beamed at Joe not expecting the ringing endorsement from his undemonstrative old friend. He was seldom the subject of such direct praise, and he imagined his future under Professor Kitteridge’s wing clearly in the sunny anticipation of that moment.

  Professor Kitteridge could see past Christopher’s pleasure to the hint or advice from Joe that he was passing messages from Doctor McGregor from beyond the grave. The undertone of Joe’s comment was that somehow Christopher’s personal involvement with Kitteridge’s work was key to the other two present. It would be routine for him to use Christopher in his research work so that request was easy to accommodate.