I’ll call that one “Superman”, he thought, smiling as he made notes on his tab. It was a clear night in the valley. The moon was still low in the sky, obscured by the towering pines. Insects droned, filling the night with sound. Now and then, he’d hear a shrill call, a croak or a chirp, from some unseen animal high in the trees. Occasionally there’d be a snap and a crash as one of them broke a branch as they hopped through the treetops. It was peaceful.

It was also cold. He’d never had nights like this in San Antonio. But after the first few days, he’d stopped noticing. The days were getting shorter; autumn was coming. But that was good news for him: the night sky was changing, as the planet’s orbit pulled it toward the galactic center. Soon, the evening sky would be dominated by the galaxy’s disk: a dark band bound in bright white.

As a soft breeze rustled through the needles, ripping his jacket, he tucked his tab beneath his arm to adjust his telescope. Bending down to look through the sight, he adjusted down a few degrees, then to the left. He smiled wide as another bright point of light pulled into view. Holding the scope level with his left hand, he carefully turned the focus knob with his right.

Ruben Valbuena had only been at the outpost for a week. It was early evening, and everyone was hunkering down for the night. Scout teams were recalled, the sonic fence was recalibrated. Everyone else retreated to their quarters to catch up on work, or read, enjoy another’s company, perhaps sleep and dream. But while he was an engineer by trade, by passion Ruben was an astronomer. He’d caught the bug in college, spent his evenings out on the quad with his telescope. The wind was stronger there, on the ocean near Vancouver. But he’d learned to use a telescope, discovered the thrill of locating celestial objects on his own. Others had seen them before. But he’d never seen them himself.

Now, his trusty telescope was scratched and worn, and Vancouver was far, far from his home. Here, the forests felt the same, but the stars were different. And he was excited to have a whole new sky to explore.

“Hey,” a voice called out from behind him. He turned to find a fellow researcher, Neri Jones, walking towards him. Her arms were crossed, hugging herself against the cold. “You’re up late.”

He turned to her, grinning. “Always,” he replied. “I don’t sleep much.”

She stepped closer. “Is that…a telescope?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Sure is.”

She moved a little closer, gaping at his prized possession. “Wow…” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one so old.”

He smiled proudly. “It belonged to my dad, and his dad, too. It’s a Newtonian refractor.”

She studied his telescope, quizzically. “Where do you put in the coordinates?”

“You don’t,” he replied. “Here,” he began, moving back in front of the telescope to demonstrate. “See, you look through this sight, here,” he began, leaning forward to place his right eye over the eyepiece. “You adjust along the vertical and horizontal. I like to do horizontal first. Then, when you find what you want, you look through here,” he went on, straightening himself and pointing to the twin eyepieces at the base.

She paused, thinking for a moment, then looked up at him. “So how do you know where to look without a computer?”

He gave her a sideways grin. “That’s what these are for,” he said, withdrawing a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handing it to her.

She unfolded it slowly. It was old, the folds worn to the point of turning white. She leaned in, straining her eyes to see. “What’s this?”

“A star map,” he replied. “A long time ago, people used to use maps like these to locate objects in the night sky.”

“Like navigators on sailing ships,” she ventured.

He chuckled softly. “It’s not that old,” he replied. “My grandfather bought it at a bookstore, in…2009, I think?”

She stared at him. “So it’s still pretty old.”

He sighed softly. “So it’s still pretty old, yeah.”

She looked down at the map again, then back up at him. “But…isn’t this a map of the night sky on Earth?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied, “but that’s where I come in.” He lifted his tab. “I’ve been doing calculations, trying to translate the map to the night sky here.”

“That sounds like a job for an astronomer,” she observed, dryly.

He shrugged weakly. “I guess,” he allowed. “But we have astronomers on Earth, too.”

“So why use this ancient telescope to look at stuff people have already documented?”

“Because I haven’t seen it yet,” he replied. He lifted his tab, flicking on the screen. The illumination was dim, tinted red to preserve his night vision.

She leaned in, squinting as he explained. “I come out here every night, and look up at the stars. By cross-referencing the map with our celestial position, I’m able to identify stars that are visible from Earth. If I see one that’s not in our database, I name it.”

She looked up at him, curious. “Then what happens if you see one that is?”

He shrugged. “I name those, too.” He paused, sliding his arm over her shoulder and pointing up at the sky. “See that one there?” he asked, pointing to a bright yellow star to the northwest. “That’s Pikachu. And that one there,” he went on, pointing to a bright blue star, lower than the first, “That’s Aquaman.”

She giggled slightly, looking up at him. “Don’t those stars already have names?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied, looking up into the night. “On Earth. But not here. Here, everything’s new. Everything needs a name. So I’m gonna come out every night, and name them all.”

“Can I name some?” she asked. 

Before he could respond, he found himself staring into her eyes. They were dark, soft. Gentle. His smile softened. He had no idea he’d stood there, staring. Eventually he tried to play it off. “Uh…sure,” he began. “Sure, go right ahead.”

Looking up, she pointed to a dim yellow star. He was surprised she could see it; her vision was sharp. “How about that one?” she asked.

He smiled warmly, looking into her eyes again. “That one already has a name,” he said.

“It does?” she asked, confused.

He nodded slowly. “That’s home,” he replied.

Her smile faded. “I guess it’s not, not anymore. Not for us.”

“You’re right,” he replied. “This is home now.”

She smiled at him again. He tried not to blush. “Would it be okay…if I stayed a while?” she asked, bashfully. “We could name some more of them.”

He gave her a sideways grin. “There’s a lot of them, you know,” he replied. “It could take a while.”

“Well, I’ve got nowhere to be,” she replied. “How about you?”

Ruben smiled wide. He couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.