The Beacon: Hard Science Fiction

a result, the fact that the star was missing no longer interfered with the search for it. That was the only explanation. Those damned idiots! And it was so easy to check! Peter chose another galaxy for good luck.
At that moment, a door slammed. The muffled sound was followed by a metallic noise that must have been the outer door as it banged shut. A shadow moved along the wall of the house. Heels clacked on the path’s flagstones. Peter stood rigid and silent. He knew he should have dropped everything and run after Franziska, or at least he ought to shout something to her. Wait, I’ll be right there—something like that.
But he couldn’t do it. He still needed the proof! Surely his wife could appreciate that? Shortly afterward, the garage door squeaked. An engine howled. Wheels rolled along the gravel driveway. Individual scent molecules of Franziska’s perfume reached his nose.
Peter wiped his forehead. He was sweating and freezing at the same time, as if his body couldn’t make up its mind. Slowly, he bent over the telescope. “We’re alone now, just the two of us,” he whispered. The device did not respond.
Using the app, he restarted the tracking, once again placing a hand over the lens. This time there was an error message almost immediately. Lazy programmers. Of course, that was one way to eliminate problems!
He heaved a deep sigh, and a cloud of steam poured out of his nose as if it were the snout of a dragon. It must already be very cold. Peter opened his list. The fact that Franziska had opted to go alone had its good side. He could continue to search for missing stars in peace.
The next time he looked at his watch, it was half past one. So late already! But he had first period tomorrow! Nonsense. Tomorrow was Saturday. That was why they had reserved this evening for the cinema. The film ran for three hours, and afterward there had been a discussion with the director. But still, Franziska should have returned by now. Where was she?
His toes were stiff from the cold, and stomping his feet wasn’t helping anymore. He should pack it in for today. With the app’s help, he sent the telescope into its parked position, then carried it into the house. Should he wait up for Franziska? Better not. If he had to have a discussion with her tonight he wouldn’t be able to sleep afterward. It would certainly not be a pleasant conversation. She would call him an egoist incapable of having a relationship, which he couldn’t stand for. Stop. He mustn’t imagine the ‘conversation’ now. Otherwise he could simply forget about sleep.
Peter gave way to a yawn as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. As he watched his reflection, he noticed that he hadn’t shaved for at least three days. He should make up for it tomorrow morning. Today, he corrected himself. He yawned again. He felt sorry for Franziska’s toothbrush. It was all dry in the jar, so he ran water over it. He turned up the heat so that it would be nice and warm when he got up in the morning, then left the bathroom. In the bedroom, he closed the window, which Franziska open despite the cold, and lay down on his side of the bed.

February 28, 2026 – Passau
Franziska did not return until Peter was sitting at the breakfast table. She looked cheerful, and that surprised and scared him. At any moment she would tell him that she’d met someone younger, more handsome, and much better at sex, with whom she would spend the rest of her life. I’ve seen too many bad movies. It’s nice that she’s doing well! he thought.
“Do you have a roll for me, too?” she asked from the hallway.
“I do.” He had baked two rolls for himself. Franziska could have one.
“It’s nice of you to think of me,” she said, entering the kitchen. Franziska’s hair was messy by her standards. She was wearing a blouse he didn’t recognize and giving off a slight odor of stale smoke.
“The blouse...” he said.
“Oh, you noticed? I didn’t think you would. Greta lent it to me.” Greta Bouvier was one of her friends.
“Did you meet her somewhere?”
“Yes, at the theater—not entirely surprising. She knows God and the world, after all. And then we hung out with the director and the distributor for a long time.”
“Oh. Was it an interesting time?”
“The director is Colombian. He wanted to go out dancing, so we went to the bar behind City Hall. They always play salsa there on Fridays.”
“Since when is it okay to smoke there?”
“Yes, the smoke. I wasn’t able to take a shower this morning. Greta is having her bathroom renovated. The bar closed at one o’clock, so we went to her place. That was fun, I can tell you! In the process, the contents of a glass of red wine landed on my blouse. Luckily, Greta and I wear the same size. After that, I couldn’t drive home, of course.”
“Sure. And then you all spent the night at Greta’s?”
“Couldn’t be helped. Greta and I in her bed, the two men in the living room.”
“You could have taken a cab.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you. You need your sleep, too.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“No, why? Should I be? The evening wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun with you. I wouldn’t have met José, or the man from the distribution firm.”
“That one doesn’t seem to have been as memorable.”
Franziska laughed. “You’re right about that. His name... I don’t know... I can’t remember it.”
“Anyway, I’m glad you had such a nice evening.”
“You sound a little pissed that I had fun without you.”
Did he sound like that? No, it was great that she had so much more fun without him.
“No, not at all. I’m quite pleased,” Peter said.
“That’s good. Have you made any progress with your stars?” Franziska asked.
“Yes, I’ve already checked