Transcript of part of the Journal
A light show in the cosmos. I have only to sit back and enjoy as the events unfold from my vantage point. This is why I write. This is my reward. Months of calculations and computations, orbits within orbits within orbits. Now I have moons, large and small, not with simple circular orbits, but which rise quickly, slow to a halt, and then dance off at right angles, or rest at the horizon. Meteors that skim the surface of the atmosphere, brightening the night. Suns, not one or even two, but six, all varying in intensity and color, attracting each other with silent waves. Until now, I have only seen this complexity on paper, in diagrams and in formulas, only imagining what it would look like. Now it is real! Fleeting but real. I write in haste, waiting for the last show before I leave, for the diversity and complexity is this age's undoing. No, undoing is not the right word, for though I will never be able to return here, the show will continue with even greater beauty and drama! When the unstable orbits decay, the suns will collide, and the real show will begin! And that is a show that I can still only imagine.