He liked the meadow behind the house. They lived on the edge of town, so sometimes the eastern horizon was a bit too bright. If he set up the telescope far enough away from the house entrance, even the occasional switching on of the lights didn’t bother him much. The neighbors had gotten used to seeing him puttering around on the lawn at night. When he had first set up the telescope, the neighbors in the house on the northern edge of the meadow had kept all their blinds down, but now no one thought of him as a voyeur.
In a sense, however, he was indeed a voyeur—of the stars. It was great to pull away the curtain that normally hid most of the stars and the details of the planets. With his naked eye, he saw Mars, Venus, etc., only as if they were bright stars, and many of the stars escaped him entirely. The telescope revealed what the darkness and distance hid.
The best part, however, was stacking—the joining of many individual shots. Just as in the days when photographers used to have to take their negatives into a darkroom, only then to be amazed at the success of their photographic efforts, the stacking procedure—done later on the computer—revealed to him the true representation of the planets or galaxies. Each photo contributed a few details to the final compilation, which often made it appear as if an expensive space telescope had been employed.
But there would be time for that later. He had to track down Neptune now so that he could photograph ‘him’ again and again like a supermodel.
There! That washed-out spot hadn’t shown up earlier. He hadn’t changed the field of view, so he had to have missed it. Peter compared the coordinates and deemed it must be Neptune. The tiny spot is shaking badly, he thought. He tried to correct the image with the ADC, but had no success. Due to Franziska’s request, he had lost half an hour during which Neptune was approaching the horizon. The lower an object was above the horizon, the longer the path of its light through the Earth’s atmosphere, and the stronger the trembling fluctuations.
No matter. He’d found Neptune. The spot was now so clear to his eyes that he was guaranteed not to lose sight of it. Hurray for the rod cells! Should he try to get some camera shots? No, he decided, it’s not worth it. He already had Neptune in his sights despite the poorer clarity. Peter zoomed out a bit to get Saturn in the field of view as well. The result was not impressive. Six years ago, at the great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter, the effort had been worthwhile, but at that time, the two gas giants had come within six minutes of arc of each other.
Peter took a few photos where Neptune and Saturn could both be seen, only as confirmation that he’d experienced this moment, that he was a witness. The pictures would not even impress a layperson. Then he lost motivation. It was noticeably cold after all, and the frigid air was making his nose run.
But it would be a pity to stop. The conditions were perfect—no moonlight, and the city was almost dark. Should he try IC 342? It would be one of the brightest galaxies in the sky were it not obscured by the dust veils of the Milky Way’s equator. He’d tried to track it down in the past, but had failed because of the moon. IC 342 was in the Camelopardalis (Giraffe) constellation, and there were so many bright stars around it that Peter couldn’t find his way there. But he had his app on his cell phone. He didn’t dare turn on the screen because it would spoil his visual acuity, so he used voice control.
“Alexa, track IC 342.”
“I’m tracking IC 342,” a female voice answered from the smartphone.
The telescope’s motors hummed, and the heavy tube moved as if by magic. In the eyepiece, stars flew through the image. Then the telescope stopped.
Peter looked through the eyepiece. That should be IC 342... What? The motors were still twitching and the telescope still moved jerkily. The tracking seemed to be unfinished. Had the cold damaged the motors? He sure hoped not! Replacing them could be expensive, and Franziska would not be pleased.
“Tracking canceled,” the smartphone reported.
Peter was relieved. If it were the motors, the system would have reported damage. But this time, it was just the program’s fault. Sometimes the software got itself into a dead end. Then it helped to adjust the telescope manually and restart the tracking. All right. Peter moved the telescope toward Polaris. That was always a good starting point.
“Alexa, track IC 342.”
“I’m tracking IC 342.”
Again the telescope moved, and again it stalled after a while.
“Tracking canceled.”
Peter tried one last time. This time he aligned the telescope manually to the center of the Milky Way, thinking maybe another starting point would help.
“Alexa, track IC 342.”
“I’m tracking IC 342.”
The motors set the telescope in motion. But after a short time, it seemed, they quit trying again. The telescope moved jerkily, and finally stopped altogether.
“Tracking canceled.”
All right. It was time to wind down for today. Peter reassured himself that it was not his expensive telescope. The software problem should be fixable. As he walked toward the house with the heavy telescope in his arms, the light came on in their second-floor bedroom. He had to hurry. Franziska didn’t like it when he got to bed too late.
February 21, 2026 – Passau
The door slammed shut. Peter had been angry that Franziska
