The Beacon: Hard Science Fiction

thousands and thousands of ways to put spherical shells through any seven of them, or even the logo of a burger chain, or whatever figure you choose.”
That didn’t sound very optimistic.
“What can you do? It’s quite simple. The more stars you find that lie on this spherical shell, the more probable it becomes that you are really on the track of a phenomenon rather than a coincidence. But please don’t limit your search to the spherical shell itself. That would be self-deception. Every disappeared star you find away from the shell is a witness against your thesis.”
That was true, of course, and he wouldn’t have thought of taking such a roundabout path.
“And what about the sun? you will ask. You yourself write that there is an essential difference between the sun and the stars that are no longer to be found: the sun still shines. And it is by no means the only visible yellow dwarf on the spherical shell you describe. Therefore the position of the sun here also speaks against your theory. Unless one assumes that all the yellow dwarfs on the spherical shell will also disappear sometime in the future. I think that is impossible. In our paper, which you have, we also discussed some other explanations for these strange failures.”
A few tips and final salutations followed, as well as a request to contact her with further news. All right. She didn’t believe him, but accepted him as a legitimate source. That was something, at least.
He closed the computer, reached for his freshly printed list, and ran into the hall to get warm. There was a lot to do!

March 4, 2026 – Passau
Peter yawned. It was only Wednesday, and the week was already dragging. Franziska must have spent the night with Greta again. Now that he was pretty sure she hadn’t started anything with that José, he also knew why she had no problem sleeping in Greta’s cramped bed. It would be free because Greta was staying at the director’s hotel. Hopefully he’d be leaving for the next big city soon. When Greta needed her own bed again, Franziska would be back.
It was already kind of strange without her. He took until breakfast to figure out what he meant by that. The more appropriate word would be lonely. He required peace and quiet in the morning, but now he had too much of that. It was comforting to have someone puttering around in the living room while he was relaxing in the kitchen drinking his coffee.
Maybe his wife would be back in the afternoon. It looked like it would be another sunny day. She couldn’t miss that. Greta lived in an old, crowded part of town, and Franziska loved the sun.
Spring was moving in now, which meant an end to the long, clear winter nights, but as long as he could be out stargazing at all, he was less interested in the image quality.
While in the kitchen clearing the dishes, Peter came across his list where he’d left it the night before. He’d worked through two pages and proved that the new algorithm worked well. All the stars on the list were still in the sky. He wondered if he should take a shortcut by limiting himself to the spherical shell. But Holinger was right—doing so would invalidate his research. It would make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Peter pulled open a drawer and hid the list inside. There was no way he could work with the telescope if Franziska came back today—that much was clear. Maybe it would be good for both of them if she spent a few more days with Greta? That way, she might learn to appreciate her former life again.
Her former life. It sounded like it was over. A shiver ran down his spine.
The front doorbell rang just as he was checking the mock exam for the 8th grade. Peter rushed downstairs and opened the door to an impassive Franziska. He beamed at her, but she did not return his smile.
“Sorry. I left my set of keys at Greta’s apartment.”
“No problem, come on in. It’s nice that you—”
“I just want to get a few things, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“You can go ahead and—”
Her gaze fell on the telescope still in the hallway, and her face transformed into a scowl. “Oh, have you been looking up at the sky again? I hope you’re having fun with it.”
It sure didn’t sound like she wanted him to have fun. He hated this passive-aggressive tone. He was about to ask her to stay a little longer but decided he was not in the mood for her bitching. He was not going to put up with it.
“Yes, it’s quite fascinating,” he said. “This researcher from Stockholm, Holinger is her name, gave me some important clues. I was afraid she was going to laugh at me.”
Franziska took off her boots but made no move to take off her jacket. “So you found someone to talk to. That’s nice.” She turned away from him and ran upstairs.
“We correspond by e-mail,” he said, loud enough for her to hear.
“That’s much better than talking directly to each other, isn’t it?” Franziska exclaimed from the second floor.
“No, of course it’s not,” he countered. “I do talk to myself sometimes.” That was not exactly true. He only weighed thoughts against each other in his head. But it sounded dramatic.
“Poor you. I used to do that when you were out among the stars.”
Hmm. He’d never heard Franziska talking to herself. She came down the stairs with a filled bag in her hand. That was quick. Usually, she spent hours thinking about what to wear.
Peter was startled. If Franziska no longer cared, all sorts of things must have changed. He had to do something.
“Stay here, please,” he said. “Let’s talk... in peace.”
“But I’m not feeling peaceful. Our relationship isn’t working,” his wife said, “and I need some time to myself right now. Don’t be mad. It’s