An Observatory

Patref Ochilliet stood on at the edge of the observatory overlooking the the red and orange canyon glowing in the late afternoon sun.  He could feel the heat radiating from the stone below.  Quite suddenly, shadows bled onto his back and cascaded over the canyon.  He experimentally held out his arms to watch the dappled sunlight play across his hands before looking up and behind him.

Overhead he could make out a tremendous flock of birds swirling in silence on the thermals, the leaves of their wings a translucent and ornately variegated green.  Other households had noticed the change outside and were now gathering, murmuring, on their own balconies to watch the spectacle.  Patref chuckled and patted his pronounced belly like the taut skin of a drum.

"I can hear your stomach, darling," a woman's voice called from inside the still-shuttered dome.  "What has you so pleased?"  Koradja walked out of the dimly lit complex.  "Oh!" was all she could manage when she looked up.  "Oh."

"Oh-ho indeed, my sweet!  They've come for those damned brook flies."  Patref was grinning like a fool, fingers laced over his ample belly and looking as proud as if he himself were responsible for the flock.  "Tonight we will be free of their torment."

Koradja stood half listening, her eyes closed and face upturned.  She could see the interplay of light and shade across her eyelids.  If she ignored the scents of dust and desiccation, she could imagine that she were in an ancient grove of towering core trees, conjuring for herself the feel of humid air and the softness of moss underfoot.  She sighed deeply, succumbing only briefly to the bittersweet wave of nostalgia.

"Ref, it is a gift from the Scribe.  A reminder of what sacrifice we gave."  She turned to her husband.  "Perhaps even an omen of clear skies and new truth tonight."

He quirked an eyebrow dramatically.  "You grow impatient with all of this?" His wild gestures attempted to encompass the darkening skies, the distant parapets of stone, the gouge of Sen river running horizon to horizon in its deep canyon, the small city carved into the face of its cliffs below them, and the observatory with their comfortable annex and the largest telescope north of Tevark.  "Is this not enough?"

Expression sinking, Koradja threw her arms around him and buried her face in the shoulder of his jerkin. Patref held her gently and stroked the back of her head, swaying slightly back and forth.  He hadn't meant to strike so sensitive a subject, but bumbling words seemed his specialty lately.  He gave her a quick squeeze and then stepped back, holding her by the shoulders.

"Adja, dearest, I take it back.  Whatever it was, I take it back."

She looked him in the eyes, smiling bravely.  "No, no. No.  You've done nothing wrong."  She could see the relief come over him at the sincerity in her voice.  "Come inside, we still need to eat before the night's observations."  Koradja cast a glance skyward, but the birds were now feasting in the canyon below which left the heavens clear and cloudless.

The sun was nearly at the horizon, but the Ochilliets stood in the shadow of the observatory dome and could not see it.  The interior glow of glyph lamps beckoned and the smell of the evening's food enticed.

Koradja hurried ahead of her husband and sat down expectantly at the table in the tiny kitchen.  When Patref ducked through the low doorway out of the hallway and saw her, playing with a blonde braid and feigning innocence, he guffawed.  Sobering at once, he very seriously brought the pot of vegetable soup and loaf of fresh bread to the table.  They had no room for separate bowls or even plates, so after a prayer of thanks, they tackled the pot together with their spoons and hunks of bread.

Koradja mischievously contrived to "accidentally" knock Patref's bread from his hands with her spoon.  After the third time, he scooped the chunk of sopping bread out with his fingers despite his wife's mocking protest.  Instead of eating it he looked at Koradja, the bread, and then Koradja again before calmly throwing it in her face.  She howled in shock more than anger but before she could move to retaliate, he was already leaning over the table to kiss the soup from her forehead.

She sat pretending to sulk while he carried the soup bowl the four steps to the preservation box on the other side of the kitchen.  Returning, Patref helped her to her feet and then held her hand as the two ascended the stairs to the upper dome.  The staircase was narrow and Patref, leading the way, had to turn sideways to keep her hand in his, his belly brushing the walls and sending Koradja into giggles.  He acted offended that she would laugh at him, but as soon as they reached the top of the stairs he swept her up and kissed her deeply.  She didn't hesitate to kiss back.

They pulled apart and smiled at each other before setting about their tasks: opening the dome, cleaning and adjusting the lenses, aligning the telescope, and settling in for the long night's vigil.

Despite the omen of the variegated swallows, the night was uneventful.  Stars blazed, the moon spun, and the planets continued their slow, stately dances.  The Ochilliets contented themselves with routine observations of the orbits of the brightest planet's moons.

The morning sun found the couple curled up in the over-sized chair by the stairwell, huddled under blankets.  The next night might bring the spectacular or more of the mundane otherworldly, but they would still be there together to see it.