Celestial Bodies

[CHAPTER 1] - GEMINI : FLORENCE WOLFE

They have been gone for thirteen years now; their souls reduced to an inscription marked upon a timid plaque. It hangs loosely upon an electronic telescope like no other. Their legacy is rusting, the dirty gold frame seeping into the wood that holds their names. My name.

I snuffed the final onyx candle, smoke perforating into the air, drying out my sinuses as the ring broke. Another failure. My heart ached, and I questioned how much more of this I could take. Should I give up? Leo had told me long ago that this was not sustainable, lecturing me on how grief must be expressed in its fullest, healthiest self. And weeks later, when I found Ross' On Death and Dying waiting for me on my bunk, I knew I had a problem. Yet here I was, once again, sitting on the cold stone floor of the observatory, staring up at the night sky, begging it for answers. The stars simply glistened back, forming radiant constellations that taunted me, evading my questions. The planets were no better, the moon glaring at me through a sly side-eye, judging my late-night practices. Like you are in any position to critique on attachment, Selene, lest us forget the eternal sleep of Endymion.

My gaze shifts to the two twins, Castor and Pollux. Tonight, in early June, they near Selene in all her glory, her waxing crescent gracing Pollux's skull in a right ascension of an estimated eight hours and declination of +25º. Gemini, my zodiac sign, stares down at me, and I can't help but feel ever so lonely beneath the inseparable twins.

Our instruments hum and whirr in the back, constantly monitoring the solar system through countless mapping and measuring devices. The wall of mechanics lines the far side of the complex, interconnected with the Wolfe telescope which my parents had pioneered all those years ago. I sat cross-legged beside Gecko, the scope living up to its nickname, producing a rhythmic clicking as it focused and refocused, resembling the Asian Tokay Gecko. Much like the Tokay, they both click and bark for territory, dissuading potential rivals. Though recently, ours have been getting braver.

Our Swiss rivals, the Matterhorn Observatory, have been fighting us for research funding since my parents first established the Wolfe Centre, their team of one hundred strong dedicated to beating our meagre seven. Gecko was the sole protector of our humble centre, and we guarded him fiercely.

My parents' inheritance has fuelled our intel, research, and funds, allowing the Wolfe Centre to have risen past our rivals in both quality and scope. And it infuriates them. Dr. Jacques Arber leads their fury, the suited European one to dance in the limelight. In the headlines as often as he is in the company of his wealthy funders, Arber is a man of the finer things, viewing the Wolfe Centre as nothing more than a stubborn cockroach waiting to be crushed. Or so he said in Forbes just days ago. I have only had the pleasure of meeting the uppity, pompous douche a few times, attending various astronomy conferences. One particularly disturbing memory I had of the man was during the Life on Mars conference in California, where he had climbed centre stage to drunkenly declare his affair with the head of NASA's wife, whilst flipping him the bird. It is safe to say, he is a grade-A asshole.

Through the expansive, curved foundation of glass, my gaze lingered on Gemini. Holding hands in the sky, immortally bound to one another, forever at peace and wishing for nothing more, they simply floated, admiring the sparkle of each other. They remind me of them.

"The sign needs a change, huh?" A tall, lean dark-featured man appeared around the corner, resting his shoulder upon the doorway that led into the main atrium. He had just come from the bunks, by the looks of it, wearing his duck egg blue and cream striped pyjamas, a matching sleep mask of shimmering silk looped around his neck. I took a second before registering his words, finding that my focus had drifted to the teetering sign hanging upon Gecko. I turned back, remaining sat on the solid floor.