Page 166 of Reinventing Cato
“Time of year. Darker skies, low humidity and the constellations are higher in the sky, so the light from stars is sharper. It’d be even better out in the middle of nowhere, but I’m thinking snakes, so we’re staying here.”
Vigge laughed. “Sharks and snakes? What else?”
“I’m not giving you a list. You’ll think I’m a wimp.”
“That’s the last thing you are.”
Cato snuggled against him. “The snake thing… Well, I was once out stargazing in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, and I asked the group I was with if there were any snakes around. No, they said. Bloody liars. I got bitten. I didn’t think I could scream that loudly.”
“Jesus!”
“The guys with me thought it was funny. I didn’t. Apparently, black king snakes aren’t venomous but they have a tendency to not want to let go. It was grinding on my finger and I was bleeding and no one was doing anything. Someone finally took pity on me and tipped water over its head and it dropped off. I’m very careful where I sit now and where I put my hands.”
“Good.”
“I can only cope with nine-inch snakes.”
Vigge chuckled. “You do know that I’m not—”
“Shush your mouth. I wandered off topic. Anyway, there’s an organisation responsible for the naming of stars. The International Astronomical Union. We usually refer to stars by designations rather than names. So the Crab Nebula is technically, Messier 1, NGC 1952, Taurus A.”
“Bit of a mouthful.”
“The scar from the stab wound you have on your back is Alpha Leporis, Arneb, which means the hare. Quite apt since you’re a policeman. Arneb’s the brightest star of Lepus, a white supergiant with a mass about 14 times bigger than the sun. 32,000 times as bright.”
“How many stars actually have names?”
“About 300. The IAU won’t endorse or recognise the buying or selling of star names. Nor will they assign names in response to requests. Technically, people can call stars what they want, but the names aren’t officially recognised. You can imagine what would happen if they let the public pick names. Starry McStarface springs to mind. Or Twinkle Twinkle.”
Vigge wondered where this was going.
“But I found a new star and I’ve put in a request to name it. I don’t know if they’ll agree, but it will be what I’ll always call it anyway. Vigge. That’s its name.”
Vigge turned to look at him. Cato wrapped his hand around his.
“It’s in the arsehole of nowhere,” Cato said and Vigge laughed.
“And here was I thinking that was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Cato smiled and pointed. “That’s vaguely where it is. That’s Saturn, there’s Mars and that’s Antares. Go back from Antares and keep going and going.”
“Can I see it with a telescope?”
“Not an ordinary one, no. But when I’m back in Cambridge, I’ll show you through one of our scopes.”
Vigge wrapped his arm around him. “I’ve got a surprise for you too. It’s also something you can’t see. I’m hoping you’re going to like it.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yep.”
“Then I do too.”
Vigge took a deep breath. “I’ve applied for a career break of three months starting when you next come back here. I thought I could return with you.”
Cato’s jaw dropped. “And they’ll let you?”
Vigge nodded. “I couldn’t do it for longer because of visa restrictions or I would have asked for six months. Though I‘ve put in an application for longer on the basis that if the Americans do say yes, I can take the extra time off work. They’ll let me have six months if I want it.”
