The Centauri Ark (working title)
Today was Clement’s first day at work. Fresh out of technical school, with the looks of a teenager, the age of a young adult, and the ambition of a sixty-year-old. Which is to say, zero.
So he had landed the dream job. Not everyone’s dream, but the dream of every graduate of the “star categorization” program, a program focusing exclusively on analyzing images of the sky to discover and name new stars, planets, and meteorites. Or rather, to learn how to use the software that now does everything for you.
This dream job was at the head of an old (and very small) observatory. At the head, because there was only one employee. Initially, he was going to get help from Ernest, previously the unique space explorer (that’s what he called himself), and then replace him when he retired, which was clearly approaching.
Ernest had been thinking about retiring in a few years, for a few decades already. He hated his job.
Arriving right on time, Clement waited for his mentor for thirty-two minutes.
— Hello sir, it’s an honor for me to work for you, young Clement said hastefully at the sight of his new work colleague.
Not answering, Ernest simply opened the door quietly. Clement was a little disappointed, but was delighted afterwards, when Ernest spoke as he opened the door, his face lighting up:
— Welcome to the space … (pause for effect) you’ll be cramped in.
It was the only time Clement saw a smile on Ernest’s face, proud of his move.
— Did you really just say “pause for effect”?
Another line might have changed their relationship, but Clement had just unknowingly put the final nail in the coffin of their new relationship.
— In my day, young people addressed their elders formally.
— But I… I addressed you formally, you didn’t answer me. And with that familiar response, I thought that…
Seeing the ineffectiveness of his words, Clement decided to keep quiet and follow Ernest into his new office, which was indeed very small. It had been designed for only one person at a time, so Clement simply stood, not knowing what to do.
— Wise decision… to shut up. In my day, young people knew how to kiss boots better too. That’s good, you won’t need that here. It’s boring as hell. We always do the same thing. Categorize spots of light on a screen. They’re not even the real stars, like before…
— What did you expect? Clement replied, thinking that if he addressed Ernest informally, he would pass his unwritten test.
— I wanted to discover new stars, even planets. I wanted to prevent a global catastrophe, by warning of the impact of a meteorite on Earth. I wanted to learn new things, develop new theories. But all that… it doesn’t pay off.
— That’s true… but it’s thanks to our work that others will be able to learn more about the universe. We are just as important as Galileo, or Newton. They needed data to develop their theories. Who knows what lies in the near future of humanity?
Ernest was now looking at Clement with bitterness and a hint of envy. He knew very well that this was the kind of crap that school made students throw up, but he knew perfectly well that it wasn’t the case. At least not in his lifetime. Ernest, staring into space, now felt nostalgic for the time when he was motivated by his work, then when he raised his gaze to Clement who was aware of having touched a sensitive chord, an alarm siren was heard.
— A fire drill, again? When will they understand that…
— No! It’s your lucky day… you’re going to be able to announce the end of the world, interrupted Clement, pointing at the surveillance screen announcing the trajectories of celestial objects approaching the Earth. Coming straight from school, he knew what it was about, while Ernest had long forgotten.
First surprised, then suspicious, then worried, Ernest observed the screen.
— It’s impossible…
[To be continued…]