Frederick - Leonid Skies

by Carl Frederick

As a boy, Carl Fredericks favorite time was winter where, in the early darkness, the stars came out before his mandatory bedtime. In other seasons, he spent many hours in his local planetarium where hed achieved something of the status of a mascot. His early addiction to the night sky likely led to his becoming a theoretical physicist. Carl regards his second story for Asimovs as an homage to the awe of the night and to the firmament-obsession of his younger self.

* * * *

Rising huge from the coastal island, the dome looked like a bugs reticulated eye. Mark Frey gazed through the windshield at the far-off structure, the seven-foot perimeter wall supporting a transparent hemispherical dome some quarter of a mile in diameter. At this distance away, five or six miles with water intervening, Mark more recalled to mind than actually saw the domes thin spiderweb of support beams cradling countless squares of Hyperglass. The material, which could be electrically commanded from transparent to opaque, had been developed for domes on the Moon.

His hands involuntarily tightened their grip on the steering wheel. Domes on the Moon. Wouldnt happen, at least not in his lifetime. Hed spent the last eight months of that lifetime on the Moon doing surveys. And then the government had yanked the funding.

Through the rear view mirror, he saw his son studying the brochure, and, next to him, his sons best friend Adrian gazing out the window. Suddenly, Adrian turned and caught his eye.

Do you think, Mr. Frey, said the boy, that the weather will be clear for the meteor shower?

Shower? said Mark, Itll be a storm if the predictions are anywhere near accurate. And yes. I did have to use some influence to have the weather changed. The camp people didnt know about the Leonids.

Really?

Really. Mark chuckled. Are you looking forward to it?

Oh, yes, sir.

Mark regarded Adrian in the mirrorobliquely, trying not to clue Adrian in that he was being observed. The boy, English and super polite, seemed as if hed just popped out of a Dickens novel. He seemed natural, self-assured and, well, perfectthe idealization of a ten-year-old. Mark gave the bare hint of a shake of his head. Then again, all parents seem to think their childrens friends are more togetherthan their own offspring. He switched his gaze to his son. Kev, are you looking forward to it, too?

Yeah. Sure, said Kevin, not looking up from the brochure.

Mark let out a mental sigh. Before hed gone to the Moon, Kevin had been as spontaneous and enthusiastic as Adrian, but now ... but now, he couldnt even get the kid to make eye contact.

His wife had thought a father-and-son camping trip might be a way of re-bonding. She said it in a matter of fact way, as if bonding were something trivial, something that could be accomplished with Superglue. Eight months lost and wasted on moon basethe abandoned gateway to space.

Yes, hed been away, but not out of contact. Theyd talked dailyEarth daily, that is. But with the three-second delay, the time it took radio waves to travel from the Earth to the Moon and back, those talks soon became expressions of the trivialgreeting cards rather than human interaction.

Watching Kevin through the small window, Mark felt disconnected still from his son. There still seemed to be a time-delay barrier between them. Maybe his wife was right; maybe it was a question of re-bonding.

It was painful watching his sons flat expression; he transferred his gaze to the boys brochure.

Campground-X it proclaimed in big letters. X for Xtreme fun!

Mark was aware of his mouth forming a tight-lipped smilecovering a scowl. X for Xtreme fun. He didnt know about that, but he did understand the subtext. X, meaning NO: No mosquitoes, no West Nile virus, no harmful solar UV, no riffraffan absolutely safe, family camping experience.

As he drove, Mark noticed something by its absence: the sign for his favorite campground was gone. West Nile did that, no doubt. Even though there were just a few hundred cases of the virus per year, fear of it had virtually wiped out conventional camping. West Nile, bird flu, Brazilian Puffweed, theozone hole, the unpredictable weather caused by global warmingso now we have domedcampgrounds, guaranteed mosquito free.

Wouldnt you guys rather camp out under the real sky? Mark looked into the rearview window.

Wouldnt it be more fun taking our chancesnot knowing the weather months in advance?

I think the domes great, said Kevin. And its a planetarium. If the outside is cloudy, well still see the meteor shower.

Only a simulation, said Mark.

Yeah. And better probably. Real special effects.

The weather report says the skythe real skywill be clear overnight, said Mark, more harshly than hed intended.

Anyway, said Adrian, if we camped outside, wed probably freeze to death.

Mark smiled. The boy was right. It was mid-November. With the freaky weather of the last few years, even though the days were as warm as summer, the nights felt like the High Arctic.

As the dome loomed ever largerthe island on which it stood was less than a half mile from the mainlandeven Mark became taken by its grandeur. And hed read the brochure. He knew of the advanced white-laser planetarium projector, the lake for swimming stocked with token fish, the forested nature walk. The campground was really a huge greenhouse. He heard the kids in the back also discussing the place: the Saturday-night movies and laser light shows, the cutting edge video games in the activity center, the rabbits.

No flashlights with more than two cells are allowed, said Kevin, browsing the brochure, and anyone caught shining a laser pointer at the dome will be kicked out. He flipped to the next page and pointed to a picture. Did you know that they have winter camping in August?

So we can freeze to death indoors, said Adrian, looking down at the picture. He transferred his gaze from the brochure to the real thing. Wow, its big. Gee, look at all that glass. It looks weird with the sun shining through from the other side.

Mark smiled, but sadly. Adrian sounded the way Kevin used to: happy, enthusiastic.

How do they keep the bird poop off? said Kevin.

Its made of Hyperglass, said Mark. And theres a high-voltage ionizing cleaning systemlaser triggered. And see those towersbird flyover repellers. And inside, theres surface lamellar airflow to minimize the need for cleaning. Mentally, he slapped himself. He was beginning to sound like the gung-ho engineer hed been before the Moon colony project had been canceled.

Kevin told me you designed it, Mr. Frey, said Adrian.

A small part of it. Mark gazed longingly at the structure. You know, Adrian, these domes were designed for colonies on the Moon.

But there arent any colonies on the Moon, said Adrian. Are there, sir?

Mark understood that Adrians question was for politeness sake. No, there arent. He forced a laugh.

But for the Moon design, we didnt have to worry about bird poop.

* * * *

Mark found an open spot in the dockside parking lot. The lot was lineartwo rows of parking spaces with a roadway between them. People and X-porters plied the roadway. The X-portersgolf carts painted to look like animalsserved to take campers gear onto the ferry and then to their camping areas in the dome. There were three areas: bobcat, wolf, and bear.

Bordering the parking lot on either side stood two rows of bug zappers on poles, built to look like ceremonial torches in some jungle adventure movie.

Getting out of the car, Mark found the temperature pleasantly cool with a hint of a chill in the occasional breezea fair bit colder than it had been in the city. Perhaps taking only summer-weight clothing had not been all that great an idea. But then again, theyd be camping under the dome. He still had trouble accepting the notion.