Telescope
"The wonder of Meh," the name of the shop Gary turned into a store was as normal as one would expect. Customers were looking at products or speaking with one of the workers. Holographic projections of whales breaching the floor as children pretended to be knocked over by them brought laughter as 3D printers worked on larger-than-life video game characters. The back wall was made of glass where anyone could watch technicians working. If you knew where to look you could spot Py from time to time, but you had to be quick.
The store started out as a way for Gary, Euclid, and Py to have background noise or people to interact with when they needed a break from repairing or building complex satellite components, ship electronics, or encryption hardware. Gary was first introduced to Euclid, then to Py. While Euclid hungered for academia, access to books, and others to debate with over theoretical math, Py wanted to build. Euclid spoke about electricity while Py watched or listened to it using Tesla coils. Gary was an adjunct professor looking for a way to fall in love with learning again.
He had all but given up when Euclid walked into his lecture on string theory where he presented a problem he had been pondering for years from six different academic angles. Euclid, the child Gary thought was there with an older sibling, presented Gary with the solution after class. Initially he thought it was a "cute drawing" until he recognized it was linear algebra. To his shock Euclid had solved it! Not only did he solve it, he had a brother that built a working prototype in less than a week out of spare game console parts and phone components.
When Gary learned that they were twins born on either side of the same year he knew Py would never sit in a class, so he invited him into his shop. The three became inseparable. The boys' father John became more son than chaperone during the trips to Gary's shop. John, a philosopher, was more question than statement and more listen than talk. Gary could bounce from physics to psychology and John would keep up, even stopping Gary with a simple well timed, "but how" question. This bond between them made Gary something more like a grandfather than a mentor or a professor.
His mind was a seemingly endless library where information was instantly and creatively available. In his mind ancient astronomy texts sat next to quantum physics journals. Mayan calendar research stretched on to circuit board schematics mixing with aesthetic theory papers converting data center designs into modern art. He could tell you how golden ratios appeared in everything from classical music to motherboard layouts. He knew why certain frequencies made people feel calm. He understood how traditional weaving patterns predicted modern fiber optic designs. His brain made connections across centuries and continents that seemed impossible, yet when you heard him explain them, they felt inevitable. He had built this ability through decades of unbridled curiosity that had absorbed more knowledge than entire university departments, and he was being schooled by his pseudo grandchildren.
Gary's wife would routinely say the boys brought life back to him, bordering on saving it. He lost weight, in a healthy way. He also started sleeping through the night again. His morning routine now included preparing their lunches which resurrected a smile she hadn't seen in years. He understood the boys better than anyone else, which may be the reason Saylah needed no introduction.
Saylah seemed to know everywhere Py was without needing to look and he always knew she was nearby even if he wasn't aware of it consciously. It was like his soul told his body to move while his focus snatched it back. When Py walked in with Saylah, Gary took to her like a grandfather holding a granddaughter. She loved it and even nicknamed him G-Pop. She was Py, the part that he protected most. The one who would spend hours looking at the grain on wood wondering how the colors changed and if the tree would look lighter or darker as well during those moments. The shy boy who just wanted to sit quietly with you as his mind would wonder off in a million places at once. Gary knew that with Py, Saylah was also her most protected self. The one who was intensely curious about tech and would sit with her forehead pressed on a computer being lulled to sleep by the hum of a fan.
They didn't just complement each other; they completed one another. As she walked past Gary she greeted him with her usual up-beat "Hey G-Pop!" handing him a warm cup of mystery drink that was always the perfect temperature and drink for the day. "Has he eaten today?" she asked as Gary sipped his drink. "Nope, he's locked in. Spicy chai with..." He thought for a second before Saylah chimed in, "habanero oil." "This shouldn't work you know, but wow it's delicious!" "Thank you! I forgot to clean the pan before roasting the spices..."
They both laughed at the truth of that and the beauty of this accidental masterpiece. Saylah lifted her cup and said, "I guess I'll give mine a try now that you said it's so yummy." She took a sip, then smiled in agreement with Gary. "Hmm, that actually does work." As she took off to the workshop Saylah's heart began to race. This wasn't just because she would be with Py again, there was something else going on. They recently started a project that outsmarted "The human internet" and Py.
They were working on a project that had been sitting in Gary and Py's tech debt for eight years. Gary provided the conceptual framework, the cultural research, the technical requirements, and seventeen different probable aesthetic integrations. But Py hadn't accepted it because there was an element he didn't have the specialty for. Gary could envision how ancient star-mapping traditions should merge with quantum optical arrays. He could see how the viewing experience would honor both scientific precision and spiritual reverence, but he couldn't build any of it. Py was able to take Gary's vast architectural visions and bring them into reality in ways that literally changed industries, but he was not blessed with the slightest bit of artistic traits. This was a deep space telescope that would also double as the centerpiece of The Valley's newest observatory. It needed to be the most technologically advanced, and a work of art. Gary had the vision, Py had the tech, but, artistry was an impossible undertaking for the two.
Py's initial designs perfectly captured Gary's technical specifications. They were sleek, clean, captivating, but he knew they screamed tech and clashed with the sanctity of The Valley. Gary understood from his decades of anthropological reading that the main use would be scientific studies, but because of where it would be installed it needed to also pay respect to the land, the culture, and the sky. Gary could explain the cultural significance, trace the historical connections, and theorize the perfect integration, but he needed specialized hands-on skills to make it real.
Observatory directors would introduce him to artists, designers, architects, and more, but none had the "it" factor. None of them had the right amount of science brain to art brain. The importance of this could not be overstated. Getting everything right was a non-negotiable fact that allowed that patch of land in The Valley to remain undisturbed. Py, Gary, and now Saylah would routinely travel there and camp overnight wherever they stopped long enough to stare in to the "yet to be explored" as Gary would like to call it. Little did they know each time they returned they were getting closer to understanding where it should go and what it would look like.
They were excited about the upcoming winter solstice camping trip. It would be the first time they would have additional "surveyors" and the best night of the year to take in the stars. Gary along with his wife, Euclid, and Em all went off in different directions lost in private conversation while they scouted. Euclid and Em were talking about the elusiveness of love in their lives. Gary and Elly playfully imagined what life as parents would have been like. Py and Saylah were annoyingly curious about each other and spoke about whatever came to mind.
They all unknowingly walked the night away while accidentally marking the foundation of the observatory. They built silly structures where they stopped to look at the night sky. Mini campfires intermittently flickered in the distance from each group throughout the night followed by a walkie-talkie check-in that confirmed no campsite, just a little chilly. Subconsciously this trip was exactly what each needed, maybe Em and Euclid most of all. They wanted companionship, but they were also secretly terrified of it. As surrogate brother and sister it was safe for them to be vulnerable with each other.
As the night playfully ran away from the day her dark hair and shimmering jewels pulled the deep purple of an eventually radiant blue sky along the horizon. Their structures fit the skyline like molten gold repairing broken pottery, embracing the land. It was hard to believe this night was just one short season ago. Looking at the progress that had been made inspired them all, but most of all, Py. Now, months later, back in the familiar rhythm of the workshop it was clear to see the newest member of the family was the missing piece.
With a beep and a swoosh of automatic doors Saylah was in the front half of the lab. This was the one where anyone in the store could see what was happening. This part of the lab smelled like new rubber, soldering smoke, sweat, and worst of all cheap body spray worn by the boys who could have done without it had they only showered more often. "What'll you say Say!" called out one of the female techs. She replied in the worst imitation of an Australian accent "I say g'day mate, how do you do and a digeridoo too." They both chuckled and got into a little small talk before Saylah excused herself.
Another series of beeps and swooshing doors brought her into "home." This was the place where Py basically lived and where she could shed the armor of what protected her heart. The opening doors did nothing to break his focus. The sound of someone else in the shop shuffling around also had no effect, but the feeling of her there was like a Rubik's cube's final turn that aligned all the colors of his life.
He stopped what he was doing and pushed away from the telescope. The wheels on his chair made no sound as he rocketed towards her. From the corner of her eyes, she calculated the speed that he was moving towards her with and jumped straight into the air. She brought her knees to her chest and braced herself. There was no loss in momentum as they crashed together aside from the chair spinning as her body unfolded like a flower welcoming the sun. The warmth of her was all he needed, the smell of her, serotonin multiplied, and her kiss to his temple was nirvana. In other words, she was his tranquility, and he, her safety.
Py looked at Saylah adjusting them to face the piece of the telescope they had been working on then began to give her a detailed update. To the outside listener this was technical talk that could have been a foreign language's foreign language, but to them and Gary this was an elementary conversation.
Gary's mind held connections that spanned so much of what humans had ever discovered, but he didn't have the ability to execute what Py and Saylah could. Sure, he could weave together insights from medieval Islamic astronomy, contemporary materials science, and traditional Khayan spiritual practices. He could guide them toward solutions neither of them could imagine alone, so he was invaluable there. He was also eerily skilled in knowing when to step away or cleverly distract one of them so the other could focus. This project needed all three of them but none of them simultaneously. They were building more than a telescope, they were confirming a family.
Never in her wildest dreams would Saylah have accepted sitting in a hermetically sealed static-free room, filters purifying everything, while wearing a dust suit as romantic, but here she is, here they are. The lighting absorbed any trace of a shadow, provided enough brightness in a spectrum that would show the true color of anything. It brought out hues impossible to see anywhere else as they looked deeply into each other's eyes. Forehead to forehead and nose to nose they could feel their eyebrows weave together as the faintest touch of her lips on his spoke about foreve