A Vomit of Diamonds (6 page)

XV

The van reached the summit of Coonabara
around four in the afternoon, cruising to a stop in front of a
white house. “This used to be where the astronomers stayed back in
the sixties,” Sarah explained, when they were all out of the
vehicle and standing before the petite manor; “But since they built
newer accommodations further up the road, closer to the telescopes,
it’s been kept as a guest house.”

“Looks like a bed and breakfast,”
someone commented. “Or a haunted mansion,” chimed in Maxine,
adopting a conspiratorial tone. “Haunted?” replied Sarah with a
serious smile; “Only if you count the rats.” This remark gave
Bouchard pause. It was as if someone had cast a freezing spell on
him. In fact the entire group turned to look at Sarah, nonplussed.
The latter was grinning. “I’m joking,” she said with a dismissive
wave. A few laughed the shock off, however the prodigy of
cleanliness remained cursed.

Through the vestibule one by one they
trickled into the drawing-room, forming a pool at its center; no
one sat. The room was tall, carpeted, and arranged around a hearth.
“Due to the limited number of bedrooms,” said Sarah, “you guys are
going to have to pair up.” Bouchard became rigid, his fears
materialized. Reluctantly, he turned to Perry — the second best
choice after solitude. “There are four bedrooms on the second floor
and one on the first,” Sarah explained once the five pairs had been
formed. “Where are you staying?” Maxine asked, more curious than
concerned. “At the main quarters up the road,” was the simple
reply. “Is it nice?” Minho asked bluntly, turning his thick head of
hair to Sarah. “Not really,” the latter replied drily, her
signature smile arising; “All the money went into building the
telescopes.”

While Bouchard appraised the
advantages and limitations of each room individually, Zimmerman
followed behind with a husband’s acquiescence. “No,” said Balzac,
his head poking into the second room. Two noes later Goldilocks
found her porridge. “This one is acceptable,” said he, casting a
sweeping glance at the piano nobile of the petite manor; spacious,
two beds, matching couches, and an en-suite bathroom. Though a few
other pairs came by to inspect the place, no one challenged
Bouchard’s claim — had they, he would have shot them a Medusa’s
gaze.

“Perry,” Bouchard called, striding out
of the bathroom with a beaming smile, “the floors are warm!”
Perhaps a simple luxury taken for granted in the villas of Lake
Geneva, but for a boy acclimatized to the Mediterranean climate of
Perth and sultry noon of Chiang Mai, floor heating technology was
impressive. “Come try walking on it,” he urged in earnest. Amused
and grinning Zimmerman followed his friend, whose child-like
curiosity was always contagious.

As astronomical observations began
earlier in the evening during winter months, Sarah called everyone
down to the drawing-room and told them that the kitchen would be
serving dinner soon. So saying, she led the group out the house and
up the road, a shepherdess herding her flock to greener pastures.
The main lodge was a one story, elongated complex. “Do all the
astronomers live here?” Annika asked, a young lady with gorgeous
blonde hair. Sarah shook her head, her ponytail shaking with the
motion. “Only the visiting astronomers stay here,” the latter
explained; “full-time staff live in a nearby town. I’m told they’re
treated like rock stars down there.” Maxine chuckled, her curly
hair bouncing like springs. Sarah climbed a few steps and opened
the door, holding it for the rest to go in.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” said
Maxine, the smell of a hot meal from the adjoining kitchen
perfuming the refectory. Sarah shook her head fondly, last to
enter, and invited them to sit down at the long table in the
center. “People should start arriving soon,” she said, consulting
her watch. Sure enough a few minutes after her prediction, men and
women of varying ages, but all dressed in the latest hiking
fashion, began to emerge through the door.

Sarah introduced them to the newcomers
with quick personal introductions and their purpose for being here.
In return, the scientist would give his or her reason for being
here too; and once the job descriptions had been explained, the
forenamed would make some little remark apparently humorous. Thus
the younglings did not remain shy for long; their eccentricities
found allies in these men of science. “Nerd culture never ceases to
amaze me,” thought Balzac Bouchard, studying his peers interacting
with their older counterparts in a sociable setting. Henceforth,
the ambience within the mess hall evolved from small talk to
talking loud.

“Free food!” Maxine exclaimed, the
first in line from their group. “I’m bloody hungry,” came the blunt
remark imparted by Minho. Bouchard, in fifth place, surveyed the
buffet table with calculating interest: bread rolls, corn on the
cob, roasted chicken, salad, and a tray of brownies wrapped in
plastic. “I guess they want us to eat our vegetables first,” he
observed to Zimmerman, six of ten. Their serves high, one by one
the young ones returned to their table with plates of
joy.

XVI

The schedule for Friday night,
according to Sarah’s verbal agenda, included visiting two
telescopes in action. “And by extension,” thought Balzac, “observe
the astronomers in their natural habitats.” To optimize this
viewing experience, the group was to dissolve into two coteries.
Headed by Sarah, Bouchard’s school included Perry, Minho, Maxine,
and Annika.

“Coonabara Observatory has a few
telescopes,” Sarah narrated, leading them up the road and leaving
the creature comforts of the barracks behind; “the telescopes
belong to various international institutes, but are collectively
managed by the ANU’s Research School of Astronomy and Astrophysics.
We’ll be visiting two tonight and another two tomorrow night. The
sky is clear so we might see a few things,” she added, appraising
the heavens.

Some dark distance later, they
approached what appeared to be a two-story building with a domed
garret loftily perched on top — protruding from its flat roof like
a zit on a patch of skin. “This is the second oldest telescope,”
Sarah explained, as they climbed the slope towards the darkly lit
mansion; “it was built in the late forties, and is mainly used for
spectroscopic measurements.”

At the door, their leader pressed a
buzzer. Her call was replied a minute or so later, the door
swinging open to reveal a be-spectacled man in his mid-thirties. He
introduced himself as Karl. “Karl here,” said Sarah, as they filed
within, “has quite an interesting background, don’t you Karl?” The
latter smiled good-naturedly. “Let’s see, you were born in
Germany,” Sarah began with a serious smile; “Grew up in Italy. But
your mother-tongue is Spanish. Am I missing anything?” Maxine
whistled in appreciation. “I think you covered it,” Karl chuckled
humbly, his accent original.

To reach the second floor where Karl
presided over his dominion, a spiral staircase had to be ascended;
the first in Bouchard’s experience. The control station was a desk
bearing multiple monitors displaying on each four images of stars
in black and white. Karl began an explanation about his research,
to which Bouchard only half listened; the contents of the room were
distracting. “It is only observable in the southern hemisphere,”
Karl explained. Bouchard smelt what must have been a cup of cold
coffee. “I am interested in young stars in particular,” was said in
the background. Bouchard’s eyes travelled afar. “By looking at the
emission spectrum I can deduce the chemical
composition...”

“Indeed,” Balzac thought to himself
with high amusement; “This must be the highest paying night job in
the world.”

Soon after, led by Karl, the group
clambered up a narrow stairwell and through a trap door in the
ceiling to emerge within the domed garret outlined before when they
were climbing up the slope. “It’s like a bird cage,” Annika
commented, standing at its center. “A bird cage?” Karl repeated,
glancing around as if seeing it for the first time.

The telescope was a
monumental white cylinder clasped at the base by a blue fork. “Do
you mind explaining a bit about how the telescope works? Karl,”
Sarah suggested.
“Sure,” Karl replied,
rubbing his hands together; “So incoming light enters the telescope
and hits a large hyperbolic mirror near the base,” he explained,
pointing along the telescope as he did so; “this light is then
reflected up onto a smaller hyperbolic mirror mounted above the
large mirror. The light is then focused back down through a hole in
the large mirror where it forms an image; this image is then sent
to the computer and displayed on the monitors in the office
downstairs,” and here he turned back to face his audience, “Almost
all modern telescopes are setup in this arrangement,” he added for
good measure, as if to remind them that it was still a worthy
telescope despite its years.

“
It doesn’t look like it’s
from the forties,” Minho critiqued. “It’s been repainted,” Sarah
explained. “And also modernized,” chimed in Karl, indicating the
spaghetti of cables that ran around the floor; “It used to be that
you had to come up here and move the telescope manually. Now I can
just tell the computer to do it,” said he, in hint of relief in his
tone. “Do the original controls still work?” Maxine asked, gazing
at what appeared to be a monitoring console taken from a hydropower
station of yore. “Sure,” said Karl, “they still work. Do you want
to see?” Everyone nodded. “Okay then,” was his easy
reply.

The dashboard was covered with a
variety of buttons, toggles, meters and whatnots, for which Karl
gave a quick run-through. Then, to begin his demonstration in high
showmanship fashion, the lights were turned off with a switch.
“Well that was dramatic,” Balzac mouthed to Perry. Next, a button
was pressed, and the roof made a blood-curdling screech as the
shutter slid open; whence starlight flooded in like a sunbeam
through a prison slit. Another manipulation resulted in the coming
to life of the telescope. It was a slow and noisy process, as the
tube was large and the controls awkward. Someone, probably Maxine,
suggested cuing in the famous soundtrack from “2001: A Space
Odyssey”. Ultimately, it took a few starts and stops before the eye
could be aligned with the peep-hole. “That is why I use the
computer,” said Karl, decidedly.

Back in the control room downstairs
wherein concluded their tour, the docent turned with good nature to
his visitors; “Do you have any questions for me?” he asked. “I do,”
Maxine said pertly, “Do you get bored here all by yourself?” Karl
chuckled amiably; everyone took this as an affirmative.

XVII

“The Dome”, as it was called by the
locals, was a gigantic domed tower, shell to a telescope spanning
five meters in diameter; thus making it the largest spyglass at
Coonabara Observatory. “Whow,” exclaimed Minho, craning his neck
heavenward. “And this is only five meters?!” Maxine chimed in,
thinking about the famous Keck domes in Hawaii which housed
ten-meter telescopes.

At the entrance, a warehouse-sized
door, they were received by a man in his mid-forties with a portly
figure and sunny personality. His name was Eric. And he reminded
Bouchard of the titular robotic blue cat in Doraemon. “Hello,
hello!” said Eric, beaming widely. “Hi Eric,” Sarah replied,
representing the team, her serious smile at breaking point. “So
good to see you!” said he to Sarah, then to the rest:
“Welcome!”

The Dome differed somewhat from the
previous facility presided by Karl, in that the paneled corridors,
designated areas and bustling activity therein, all gave the
observatory a weaponized space station impression versus the
latter’s Dr. Frankenstein’s house. And unlike the latter’s tube,
The Dome’s telescope was hollow and held in place by a thick
horseshoe-shaped grabber, itself propped up on a base frame that
could have past for a bronze sculpture in Sweden.

“It looks like an ion cannon,” Balzac
observed, leaning over the balustrade which encircled the
structure. To arrive here they had ridden an elevator to the fourth
floor, and then climbed an extra set of stairs. The others, aside
from Zimmerman, seemed surprised and amused by Bouchard’s remark;
not expecting such a reserved and grave-looking young man to say
such things. “Ha, ha,” Eric laughed; “Actually, someone once
compared it to the inside of a Death Star!” Bouchard did not
mention that that was his first thought too; for he went with the
ion cannon comparison because it sounded less nerdy.

“What have you guys been observing?”
Sarah turned to Eric. “For the past three nights we’ve been
pointing at the Magellanic Clouds,” Eric replied, becoming more
serious now, as Sarah’s question had not been delivered lightly;
“But we’re a bit behind schedule at the moment.”

“Is something wrong with the
Cassegrain cage?” Perry asked, indicating the crew of technicians
working on a catwalk platform at the bottom of the telescope,
appearing to be engaged hurriedly in fixing a technical issue.
“Yes!” Eric exclaimed, excited that someone recognized the serious
trouble The Dome was currently facing; “One of the components was
replaced this morning,” he explained, “But the strange thing is, it
didn’t fix the problem!”

After a brief stop at the control
room, where three operators sat separately interacting with their
respective consoles, the tour headed for the Coudé room. “This is
where the magic happens!” Eric said dramatically; “All the
collected light rays are focused in here.” It was a messy room with
cables and connected apparatuses. “Air con, really?” Minho gruffly
complained, hugging himself. “The machines can get really hot,”
Sarah explained. “And they’re very expensive to replace!” Eric
joked.