CHAPTER XVII: BLACK MASS

   When finally I dared to go out, the night was another sheet with which some playful spectrum had wanted to wrap up. I could hardly distinguish Miguel and John’s tent, so close. For the first time I did the experiment to guess where the wind was blowing from and soon I realised that it was not difficult to find it out: it blew from the east and Olivia, I thought, would be calm. But as in a haunted lock, the key that opened it was inserted into the magic hole in its trunk of dreams and it blew away so hard its cinerary urn westward near that dense linoleum which was decomposing in cottons, discovering remnants of unfolded beauty slowly. So I was watching, little by little, that the night was not cold. Or dark. That a capricious part of the fog had stayed to live in the path of the Milky Way, from the Scorpio, in the south, up to Cassiopeia, in the North. Thousands of bright pebbles filled the night so well lit with magic. I could not do other than exclaim, not knowing that I was being heard:

− "What beauty!"

   At that moment I could see all the tents and Olivia’s mound, where the seven were gathering around a bonfire. The flames of the newly lit fire seemed to lick the rock in the shape of a hat that I mentioned. They were gathering together in what was almost a circle, and approximately in chronological order. Olivia, opposite me, had a ribbon in her forehead and looked like a priestess of some strange rite. On her right, Mistress Oakes, and Lucy on her left. Next to her, breaking the sequence, but respecting his new chronological order, Luke, snuggling under a blanket that wrapped over his wife, who was always cold and had not been persuaded to lay for a few hours in her prison and had requested a truce, arguing that she would retire soon if she was worse. It was thus that for the first time we got to be together the eight. On Luke's left, and now completing the forgotten sequence, were Bruce, Miguel and John, who almost joined Mistress Oakes. I had not seen yet the tender image of Lucy and Luke together, but I was going to be much impressed by it. It was so beautiful that I would never want it to break.

− "Come here with us, Nike. Here you won't be cold. There is a place for you, dear brother” −It was Luke the first to realize that I had left my tent and spoke to me.

   I didn't know what strange rite I was being invited to, but I thanked the fact that it was him. Mistress Oakes invited me to fill the gap between her and John, and when the circle was completed, darkness wanted to explode. How richly adorned that poor night among the flames! But soon the first exclusion shook me. All but Lucy were drinking wine and she had a bottle brought from the sap of the river, that Kilmourne whispering behind me talking, it seemed, with the fire which caressed my feet, in a secret language of initiates that became masters, and had to be both wondering who these eight strangers were who took communion together with the night. But I didn't want to take part in the blood of that wine, my terror and it was the first time I rejected it.

− "Only water, please” –I dared to say. And since there were no glasses, Lucy offered me the bottle so I could drink from the same cup.

   They were eating lamb, I intuited more by the scent than by the color of the meat. But I was pretty full then and heat has always satisfied my appetite, and that day had also been a bonfire. I declined the offer and John offered me instead a bit of rye bread that was among the belongings of their dinner.


 

   First black mass. Because Nike rejected lamb and wine. He was going to be initiated into a strange faith and seemed to reject old beliefs. But it just seemed so, because he accepted the bread. That night of altars the seven priests gathered around their new acolyte to baptize him into a creed without dogmas. The pagans were aware that they were, but didn't want to offend any God. They only wanted to take stock of new images and sensed psalms with which to make offerings of devout hearts without icons of saints or a stained litany. They covered the table with lamb and wine, but the last supper, to Nike the first with the seven, was bread and water, and the liturgy would flow just the same, loving, and exalted.


 

− "These tongues of heat will be good for you to postpone thoughts. And if you finally leave, you will not remember these narrow days and will regain your calm." –Miguel then said. And I, who together with the flames was melting in a huge embrace with the surrounding universe, and for the first time felt one of them, suddenly said:

− "It could well be that I leave, but if forgetfulness is a demon, back off, Satan."


 

    That very night Nike also rejected the devil, who in the heat of the flames, should be around then in the same bonfire. In its usual representation of a goat, with pointed horns. Or perhaps it was God Pan, predecessor of Dionysus, the lustful. They were only a fewe seconds, but that night of Aug. 3, Nike was in Capricorn.


 

   The Waxing Moon was already there becoming full flirtatious and made it possible that, with the flames, you could see pretty well. So I checked a little devil then warming in the vicinity was Ted. Because I already knew the 7, but not the 4. It didn’t even allow Bruce to embrace it; it was the most unfriendly and independent. But while I was looking at it, Terence also came and seemed to prefer me, and in just a second he junoed onto my lap.

− "It could well be that you didn’t leave -said the Priestess Olivia, who that night was splendid, paraphrasing my words.  She was the first of them that said this statement openly−. That seems to think Terence, which already considers you a part of its landscape."

   What if I didn’t leave? For the first time, I felt the temptation of staying there forever, among the ash trees and the bonfires, between the river and the tents, next to their beloved faces. I would no longer understand myself without them, without their outskirt of my torn heart. Once again I was feeling a commotion, and that reminded me of a few words by Luke. And then I asked him this question:

− "The other day you talked to me, see if I remember well the name, of the motif by Verôme, and..." –But just then Miguel stopped me.

− "It is very possible that our language does not interest you, Nike, but..."

− "I however think that he wants to learn it, Miguel" –said Lucy now. I thanked her from the inside.

− "Verôme is a strong shaking which many men have lived −Miguel illustrated me−, surely not more than once in their existence. You feel then that among many roads you know what yours is, moving away all that is preventing you to see your true path. And then you reach the motifs by Verôme."

   He was increasingly confusing, but unexpectedly Mistress Oakes spoke with the aim to enlighten me:

− "It is something crazy, because nobody will have explained to you that we use the same name to talk about two different things, but so similar, in the singular or in the plural, the one or the ones motifs by Verôme."

− "I wondered in reality about the name –I said confused−. It's so resounding."

   Miguel wrote it then among the burned leaves of the night ground. I was surprised by the strange circumflex accent. It did not match the lessons of French I had learned when I was young.

− "The origin of this unusual circumflex was also one of Jacques Verôme's recent concerns, who the last time I saw him was wondering whether ever there could have been a place or a person called Verosme or Verosma. It seems that someone told him that this last name was a place in the Gallaecia Hispana –Miguel said to me as if that clarified everything. With every new explanation I was more and more bewildered−. Jacques Verôme was one of my first customers. It is that I was formerly a lawyer, Nike –he clarified−. I defended him from the charge of murder of his wife, Angelique Verôme. They were from Bordeaux, but after a few years they came to our city. He knew me by hearsay because I had previously defended Maxime Verôme, a cousin of his I managed to be acquitted, not without difficulty. The married couple lived on a first floor and she was discovered strangled one day. Jacques’ hands were then complete, later you will understand me, and he was strong, and the most likely. The police soon thought about him. A month before the murder they suffered a robbery int their house and since then, Angelique, who stayed alone most of the day, closed all doors and all windows. And fully closed they all appeared when her husband returned and found her strangled in the kitchen. Of course he could be lying, but autopsy confirmed that Angelique died about 11 o'clock, an hour when her husband should be teaching his piano lessons. And there was another possibility. The house had a large goods lift. He could have entered it. In short, Nike, nothing could be proved, and I sometimes had the impression that he was guilty. But there still was his alibi. His student Sylvie Laplane swore that she had been with him at the time of the murder. But she could be his motive, because Angelique Verôme was not exactly rich. So it wasn't the money. And if it was passionate, Jacques and Sylvie were quite discrete. Without motive or opportunity nothing could be proved. And the lack of both I defended."−and he seemed to end there.

− "But how do you go from this Jacques Verôme, who seems certainly not very inspiring, even if innocent, to your motifs by Verôme?"  −I asked desperate.

− "Forgive me, Nike. I was forgetting −apologized Miguel−. There is a second part. As I have said he taught piano lessons. He lived on that, you can say, but in reality he was a composer. But a mocking fate, or some poetic justice, led him to suffer a sudden gangrene. They had to amputate one day all the fingers of his left hand. Death for a pianist. But believe it or not, he learnt to play with his knuckles. –The torn hand, I thought. Tout se tient. Everything seemed to fit between this imp Verôme and the seven−. One day, two years after his wife's death, he composed a work which he called Fate, where you couldclearly hear the sound of a motif in its eight parts, which he respectively called Liberty, Horror, Wisdom, Dignity, Greatness, Clarity, Beauty and Commotion."

− "We seem to be all by now" –Bruce startled me unexpectedly.

− "Sometimes I think I'm crazy, you have already heard me –said with anguish Mistress Oakes, as if to erase a little the effect that those words from Bruce might have had in me−. But if the same insanity more than one people who never have met perhaps share it, so I explain it, it might be that the universe is throwing us signals. See, Nike, I don't care if you think I'm crazy, but if I don’t tell you this, you will never understand all this madness. I often have visions, as you already know. Shortly after getting to the street, I had the anticipation of what has been a long vision in many stages, years it took me, because the motifs by Verôme are not only eight, they are sixteen, for there are also the eight negative signs. It seems crazy, but the first thing that came to my mind was those eight words with which the pianist Verôme listed the eight parts of his work Fate, like our God-Fate. And others have been invoked, with that word I explain it, to the same eight scoundrels."

   But I went a little back in her flow of words:

− "God-Fate?"  −I asked amazed.

− "Of course there are at least God-Fate, God-Cause and Goddess-Universe −She wanted to illuminate me. But every new explanation dipped me in a greater darkness−. Don't worry, Nike. As I can see that you are interested in all this folly, and now you have a lot of time, tomorrow I will go to your tent and explain it to you a little better. Or so I hope. It is a story that has only been told to beggars, and my six fellow mates have already heard me, but since you never know, you can also hear it."

   As you never know. Everyone seemed to have agreed in situating me definitely there. And I would have other new tangles to untangle. There in the bonfire it did not seem so unlikely. But it was not the time. And I felt comfortable, after all. That night I was being one of them. The seven looked at me inviting me to ask as many questions as I considered necessary. But I was distracted by the thought that Luke had just finished his glass of wine I now know that he would have never started to drink had he known I would join them. Later that night he drank only water. Lucy, Luke and I were in the same baptismal font, about to be baptized in I didn't know what. He looked at me with determination and I asked the only thing that came to my mind, the big question of those days, what had happened with the snake.

− "We have not been idle, Nike. Neither we nor our neighbors the Outcasts - said then John, who had not yet spoken−. I would not be afraid of it. I would say that we will not see it again. And I will never know what species it was. But a little as a joke I would say that it was a basilisk. Have you ever heard that name?"

− "I have, but..."

− "Don't you think too much about it. The basilisk does not exist. It is a mythological animal. They say that it kills with its look, but you may not have seen its eyes. You never saw them, did you? –I nodded−. But I saw it about two minutes before you. I knew that it was a danger, because poisonous snakes have a triangular head. Some have a triangular one and are not poisonous, but even if you did not see its eyes, I did see them. They were elliptical-vertical. Another sign of their poison. But there is more. The basilisk is usually matched with the catoblepas."

− "About that snake I can assure you that I had never heard."

− "It is not a snake –he took me out of my error−, but it is another mythological animal. Some relate it to the gnu, others to the buffalo. In any case, its eyes are always looking at the ground, because it doesn’t want to kill. This strange entity does kill you if you see its eyes, even if it is not watching you."

   I had the feeling that somehow very mythological as they were, I had been attacked by both. The basilisk or the danger of being watched, even if you are not looking at it; the catoblepas or the danger of watching, even if you're not looked at. Luke looked at me and stared, and suddenly, I would swear, he seemed to understand, his mind a flash faster than mine.

− "Forgive me if I always speak of the same things, Nike. Basilisk is a Greek word meaning a so-called king or a little king −before the mention of the words little king, I was quick to relate: Luke had referred to his son as little king, if it was a boy, or empress, if it was a girl−. Little King in Latin is Regulus. And there is a star Regulus. It belongs to Leo. And there is also a constellation, or several, of the snake."

   Years later he talked to me again about stars, but I was now finally determined to pay attention.

− "Forgive me, John, not to have heard you so far with respect in the subjects that most interest you. If you could see it as a mea culpa, let me ask you this, which if ever before I have asked, I have forgotten: does the star Thuban exist?”

− "It does, Nike. In fact, it was the ancient pole star. But for you to understand something of what I'm talking about, I would have to refer to the circumpolar constellations, the ecliptic or the precession of the equinoxes. And it can be boredom for our mates."

− "Please, John –Olivia pled, his old antagonist. -Then I noticed the picture of mother and daughter together, the first time I had the occasion. I thought that they did not resemble each other when I had seen them separately. But now I thought of the great similarity between the two. Both were beautiful, but what in Lucy was brightness, in Olivia it was contrast, and that night that she was so splendid, she regained intensity and their luminosities approached, making them very much alike−. The night is covered with stars today. They are asking us to invoke them. To dialogue with them. We have heard you more than once trying to start a conversation about your stars, and we have changed the subject. If Nike is also interested, I think that it would be the right time to pay off that debt. It is also early. None of us want to go to sleep; I'm sure, although Lucy perhaps should do it."

− "Let me be here a little longer, mom. I want to hear John."

   And Olivia consented and she seemed to hand the rod of priesthood to John, who took her place.

− "All this can be fascinating, but it is difficult to know where to start −hesitated John−. I can start by asking you all a question: which way does the sun follow? Nike?"

− "It is difficult, master John –I said mockingly, as if we were at school−. From what I remember of old lessons, rather than by observation, it rises in the east and sets in the west. Am I right, dear teacher?"

− "Very good, my favorite student −he replied in the same mocking tone−. This is the problem then. From its birth to its death, the rest of the day, where is it walking? Or rather, where will you never see it?"

− "That I don’t know" –I admitted.

− "Then I will tell you that the lesson is this: it rises on the east, sails on the south, and sets on the west. And you can see it at certain times of the year on the northeast or northwest, but never, if you allow me, on the north. But now I'll tell you more: the moon and the planets do exactly the same thing, they travel the same path. The Earth moves around the sun, but to our perspective, it is the latter that moves. And I don't know, Nike, whether you know that there are among the constellations those of the twelve signs of the zodiac. But some, like Cancer or Pisces, are difficult to distinguish; others such as Leo and Scorpio, are big, beautiful, and remind you of what its name suggests. But there are other constellations such as Orion, most beautiful and sublime, why did they never become zodiac signs? As I can see you are still in the dark, I'll tell you that ancient peoples considered so important the constellations that, visible or not, are on the road the sun, the moon and the planets are following, a line which is called the ecliptic, that with them they created the Zodiac, from zoon diakos, the wheel of the animals. Some include a thirteenth house of the sun, or even a fourteenth, but I will not confuse your thoughts with this. Well, but you should know that all the stars move, and almost all follow the same fate: they rise on the east, go on the south and set on the west. But there are stars which do not follow that road, those in the north, and they never set. They are the circumpolar stars, stars which don't know fatigue, according to the Egyptians. In addition, the constellations of east, south and west, are not year-round stars, but are only two or three months, but the circumpolar can be seen throughout the year. Look at Baphomet. Very low you'll see the Greater Bear; the plough will be more familiar to you. The ancients saw a bear. If all their stars come together maybe, but I have not managed to see it yet."

−"It seems to me a great white whale"−Olivia suddenly spoke, startling us all a little− or it might be that I have just finished Moby Dick and I'm still influenced."

   Moby Dick. Those days I could not finish it, even if they had not taken it out of my tent, but that night I had a different reading, some magical lines suspended above my dazzled eyes.

− "Thar she blows, surely -John, the other great reader, confirmed−. From the Greater Bear you can see the pole star. Let me ask you, Nike, and never mind if you make the same mistake as everyone: why is it important?"

− "It is the most brilliant, I suppose" −I ventured with many doubts.

− "I knew you would say that. Don’t worry, but that is just the typical error. There are many more brilliant stars than the Polar Star. No, its importance is that for us, it is the only star that apparently does not move. The stars of the east, south and west move and are not year-round. North stars are year-round, but they also move, they just turn around the pole star. So this is the only one that can be seen every night of the year and at all times in the same place. And it is in the north. If you are able to recognize it, you will never get lost in the night. Because where this star is the north is; at the opposite point, if you turn your back is the south; and if you’re facing it, on your left you have the west and on your right the east. That’s how sailors guided who, recognizing it, never lost their course."

− "And how shall I recognize it?” -I hopefully asked. To know always how to be guided at night would be a gift.

− "It is fairly easy. Back to the Big Dipper, which surely you know how to recognize now. Also its plough will also always tell you where the north is. Tell me, how many stars are you able to distinguish?"

   I began to count them.

− "Seven" –I said.

− "Exactly, Nike. Four stars shaping a plough and three in the tail. Well, and now take the two stars more distant to the tail. You already have them, isn't it? Prolong them five times inside the sky. You understand, don’t you? Imagine the sky as a map; Do not go on the edges, inward. Now in summer the Big Dipper looks very low, and in winter very high, at the zenith. In autumn and spring, rising or falling over the sides. But also on the same night, if you look at it in different hours, the Big Dipper will have moved. Always take the same stars and prolong them five times in. And if you've already prolonged them, here it is, Nike, on the tail of the other plough, which is not always seen as a plough, the Lesser Bear, which is the constellation to which it belongs. There you have the north.  And from there, all the cardinal points revealed."

− "Really fascinating, John. Thank you. I should have heard you years ago. But forgive me, why was Thuban a polar star, and why has it changed? And which one is it?"

− "Circumpolar constellations are Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, the Dragon and Camelopardalis, which means the giraffe. Thuban is Alpha Draconis, the brightest one in the Dragon. But since it is difficult to recognize the constellation, Nike, I will point you out Thuban. Look at it, that's it −he said to me-. A little above Baphomet. It was amazing to be so far away from my workplace and see it now in the sky.

− "And why was it a polar star?" –I insisted.

− "All this is not easy. I hope I am not tiring you –with a look I made sure that I wasn’t−. I have already spoken of the circumpolar and the ecliptic. To understand that, I'll have to talk to you about the precession of the equinoxes."

   I was not being the only one spellbound. Everyone was looking magnetized at John, but something suddenly surprised us all. The indomitable Ted jumped with security to my lap once he saw it vacant. Terence had gone to its affairs. I saw it move to Mistress Oakes’ tent, northward, I thought, with the security now of a sailor.

− "Also for Ted, my friend, you are being the magnetic north -Luke said. And looking at everybody−: Nike should be the polar star. He always knows where the north is.

   It was a beautiful quote from Luke that I will always remember. Finally, Protch, I am not sure to always know where the north is, but they gave me no less than Polaris. Magical night where the flames of the earth shook at the rhythm of the flames in the sky. But suddenly a different light lit us up, surely hidden by a cloud for a while, which now unveiled. It was on St. Alban, but from our perspective we saw it round and pure above Olivia’s head. John had also seen it. It wasn't a star:

− "Here is Venus –and then he explained what I have already referred to you about how to recognize a planet among the stars−, it seems suspended over you, Olivia, as if it belonged to you. If we have given Nike the Pole Star, you could have Venus, if you are not frightened by its similarity to Lucifer."

− "How is that, John?"

-"Venus is also known as the evening star or the morning star. It always appears first in the twilight or first in the morning, announcing as a torch the arrival of the more powerful light of our star. In this sense, it is the lightbearer of the light of the sun. And that's what Lucifer means: The Lightbearer. It is not very clear he is a demon. And of course it is not Venus. He is the Prince of Wisdom, the fallen angel. And many times the gods or the lights of a losing religion are the demons of the winner. But all this could scare you."

− "I am not scared by Lucifer. I fear misery more. Thank you for Venus, John."

   At that time misery wasn't evil for me, but it was already perceived as a lightbearer, carrying the light, illuminating my future. I saw then, as an effect of the clarity of Venus, a wheat ear I had not seen the previous day with Lucy. Olivia of the wheat ears, and Lucy the bread from her body, which in turn bore inside new wheat, ears and a new bread.

− "Something of which I am not very sure, Nike, is the precession of the equinoxes. It is more or less that since the Earth is not exactly a sphere, the change of direction of its axis of rotation causes a variation of the plane of the equator, and in consequence of the line where this plane is cut by the ecliptic. It was a definition that I once read and I memorized, but do not heed me too much. Two are, among others, its consequences. Look, Nike, at the beginning of the Christian era, when spring started, the sun travelled through the constellation of Aries. Two thousand years later it travels through Pisces, so if you prefer, the horoscope that you have been told you are, it is that according to astrologers, but according to astronomy…I could swear... well, we all are the previous horoscope. So if they have told you you're Aries because the sun was in Aries when you were born, I'd swear that when you were born the Sun was in Pisces; or if they told you that you were Pisces, the sun was in Aquarius..."

   So I, who had always believed that I was a Leo, could also be a Cancer. Week of gifts. It all started with the greatest gift: they have gifted me life. Next a heart that had already bled with love, friendship and deep affection; two stars, two horoscopes, and the next day, at least four surnames. Gifts that didn’t cost any money. The most valuable ones.

− "And the precession of the equinoxes has also changed –John continued illustrating me−, and I finally answer you, the Polar Star. Thuban, which by the way I think that means the head of the snake, everything fits, was the north hand 4800 years ago, then it was Kochab, also as Alpha Ursae Minoris, Polaris, your star, let me say now, in the Ursa Minor, and now it is, ultimately, the Polar Star, which will not always be. One day, around the 13,600 one of the brightest stars, Vega, of the Lyra, will replace it. And before Vega, it will be others."

  I would not live to see it. But the sky was setting up my life. Thuban was my clock hand in the north, and the seven were my precession of the equinoxes, and another bright star was approaching to replace it. From that August 3, all clear nights I follow the same rite. I lift up my eyes to locate it, not to forget that they were my north, next to the seven stars of the Big Dipper. But Priestess Olivia’s voice took me away from my thoughts when she suddenly said:

− "It cannot be thatyou have given a celestial object only to Nike and me. Everyone should have a star. What do you think, John, if now you start to distribute them?"

− "It isn't a bad idea, Olivia –he winked at her−, but what criteria shall I follow? I'd like to give you Vega or one of the bright stars of Orion, or Sirius, the Christmas star..."

− "According to our horoscope it could be. Or at least to the one we believed to be. According to your ecliptic."

− "It could well be –and he pointed out at me−. You first, Nike..."

   But I had two objections:

− "You have already given me a star, John."

− "Yes, but from the north. You must also have a star from the south, like all of us. "

− "All right then John. But I have been the last one to arrive here. Following your chronological order, please."

− "You're certainly right, Nike –and he looked at me with deep respect−. Let's see then. Mistress Oakes? I guess we all know our horoscope, but if someone doesn't know, tell me then the day of your birth. Talk, our first mate. Let us open the circle."

− "On November 7. Scorpio. Or perhaps Libra?"

− "As our mate Luke likes to say, it could not be otherwise. Now look onto St. Alban. The Scorpion looks in full force –he taught us to locate it, the most beautiful constellation of the Zodiac, with a shiny red jewel, towards which he aimed-. Look at it: that star is Antares, the one I gift you. Its name means more or less a rival of Ares, a Greek God that when he was Roman changed into Mars. Because its redness vies with the color of this planet. Let’s continue with the neighbours of Earth, because you are Mars, and Olivia is Venus. If no one else was born in autumn their constellation now won't be seen. But you have guided us, our mate, and it could not be that we distributed the stars without yours being seen."

− "But why is it seen now in August? Should it not be seen in November?"

− "You have not seen then the trap. And yet, previously I announced it. You see, Mistress Oakes. If you were born on November 7, and they told you that you were Scorpio because the sun was in your sign... well, or in Libra, but let's not go back to that... The sun is in your sign, do you understand? You could see Scorpio in November if we could look at the sun without being blinded. But since what we want is to look at the stars... We can only see them when the sun dies. The constellations of the Zodiac are not seen when the horoscope says. Scorpio is the best constellation of summer. You cannot see it in the autumn. The Zodiac is like us, but improves us. It is born and dies. But then it resurrects. If you have no further questions, we will go with Olivia. And don’t say as Nike did that you already have a planet. This is a night of gifts. We will continue with you."

− "September 16. Virgo-" –we all answered as Mistress Oakes.

− "It is a difficult to recognize constellation, Olivia. It is difficult to see a virgin in it. But fear not.  It has one of the brightest stars: Spica, i.e., wheat ear."

   Wheat ear, wheat and bread. Whenever I think of Olivia that night, I see her as the magic priestess of summer. The owner of the tent next to which sprouted ears had had one more ear. But Lucy, her bread, was now the one who broke the chronological order, because when John named her, she replied:

− "I share the horoscope with my husband. I prefer to wait. Go on with Bruce, John."

− "May 4. Taurus" –he answered when John asked.

− "Taurus is recognizable. But so far we are being lucky. Not all horoscopes are equipped with bright stars. But Taurus is. I will not gift you the Pleiades or the Hyades, two clusters in Taurus, but the brightest star: Aldebaran. Its name means the one that follows, because it follows the Pleiades, but it has had more names. One other day, if you're interested, I will explain what clusters are, Bruce. You talk now, my love."

− "You know very well, John. I on June 11. You on May 31. But we are both Gemini. And you have already taught me their stars. I know that you will not like me to, but I want to be the mortal twin. A few days ago I was afraid to lose you, and I want to be sure that I go before you."

  For the first time that distribution of stars for John ceased to be a game. Immediately, with pain on his face, suddenly transformed, he explained: Castor and Pollux, the Dioscuri, twins and brothers of Helen of Troy. They accompanied Jason and the Argonauts, and I suddenly remembered a stained glass window in the Thuban –when I saw it again I would like to know more about the Argonauts, I thought-, a polar star where the twin John had worked. It was not clear whether both were sons of Zeus, and immortal, or Castor was the son of King Tyndareus, and mortal. So Luke and I were not the only twins. Miguel and John, from that night respectively Castor and Pollux, had come before.

− "Now it would be Luke’s turn. But speak the two of you -said John, smiling again, to Lucy-. The black wind that had made his face grey seemed to have gone."

− "The two of us -said Lucy- are Leo –and I looked at them with surprise. But she didn’t say the day they were born-, but I think that our son will also be a Leo. He will be born soon. And in any case he will not delay so much as to be a Virgo, as his grandmother. Our child should also have a star, if there is still any. Could you tell us which stars Leo has, before we choose them? We have already heard you talk of Regulus; I think that was the name. And the others?"

-"I'm going to draw them. And do not worry, because Leo has at least five bright stars. There will be enough for everyone. Also for your child."


 

− Do you have paper and a pen, Protch? I want to draw it for you.

−Write down the names, Nike, even of the previous five. I want to memorize them.


 

   He traced a clear line, and the lion was drawn. But it reminded me of a rat. It depended on how you looked at it. I was reminded of Miguel.

− "Look −John moved along the lines safely, pointing out some spots, outlining five stars−. Here below you have the little king, Regulus, Alpha, the brightest. Follow me to the left. This is Beta, if you remember the Greek alphabet: the second in brightness. But it has two names. Usually it is known as Denebola, which means the tail of the lion. Or it is also Dafira, which means the tail hair. If we follow a certain order, we skip a letter in the Greek alphabet, and go to the north, where we can see Delta Leonis, Zosma, or Dhur for it has two names, −one of them, Protch, means the back of the lion−. Back to the west, where we find the letter of the alphabet that we had skipped. Here is Algieba, Gamma Leonis, the forehead of the lion, or the hair. And here appears Epsilon, Ras Elased Australis, southern star of the head of the lion, it means. You can see Regulus, Algieba and Ras Elased Australis form a sort of upside down question mark. Well, choose."

− "First we should deal with our child -said now Luke. So far it has been her to speak−. But it won't be easy, because we don't know whether it will be a boy or a girl. If it is a boy we should give him Regulus, our ltttle king. And if it is a girl... Let me think. Denebola or Algieba remind me of a girl’s name. But how exactly the name was of the one you've called Epsilon? I think I heard you three words, isn't it? Can you tell me only the second?"

− "Elased."

− "Elased. It sounds beautiful and feminine.  And it starts with the same letter as the name by which she is called, if she is the one that comes: Empress."

− "Right then, Luke. It seems to me a beautiful choice. In a few days we will have here Regulus or Elased. It is not bad. And you? Now Lucy should talk. And choose. You have still three jewels left."

− "Then Algieba, which is close to Regulus and Elased. I want to always be with my child. In addition, you've said it meant the forehead of the lion, or the hair, and you all know that your hair is taken care of by me. Do you agree, Luke?"

− "It seems perfect to me, my darling. So I'll have Denebola, because I am at the tail of all of you. So we have already ended with the lions. Let's go on with Nike. Let’s not forget him."

− "I fear that we have not ended with the lions, my friend. I was born on July 30, −Lucy and Luke stared at me then−. I am glad to be the last one to choose. But I only have one. What was its name, John? I remember you said something of the back of the lion."

− "Zosma, or less frequently Dhur. But it suits you good, swimmer. The back is one of your best areas. But Nike. You never told us that on day 30 that it was your birthday. And you were here. We have not given you any presents."

− "I didn’t remember it then, John. But do you think that you could give me a more impressive present than Polaris? The best present in my whole life. And also the star of the back of the lion –I looked again at the drawing that John had done. Zosma, between Denebola and Algieba. What for us is already the same as saying between Lucy and Luke. I am afraid that my face then must be a poem, an expression of honest protest. I didn't want to be placed between both of them. Luke was looking at me.

− "Then the account is, at last, over. But I'd like to give one other star. First because its grandmother does not have a star in the same constellation or related to her granddaughter or grandson and that should not be. And because in Mesopotamia and Persia they had the four royal stars, perhaps standing for the solstices and the equinoxes, and we have already given three, but we lack one. The ones we have given are Regulus, Antares, and Aldebaran. Your child will be accompanied by Mistress Oakes and Bruce, and will accompany it with love and it may not have a better company. And of course its parents. But I don't want to forget its grandmother. And we lack a star for the four royal ones: Fomalhaut, from Piscis Austrinus, not to be confused with Pisces. And it is not in the ecliptic. But we have been all night cheating the sky. Keep it too, Olivia. In addition, who could have guessed it? Fomalhaut means the mouth of the whale, and you've earned it. Through your mouth tonight Moby Dick has spoken. And if we keep recreating, we can vary Achab's fate, who now will not perish, because he never found it. Moby Dick went to the Big Dipper, to swim the stellar seas, just as deep and cold. Some also say that Regulus will be a star in Virgo in our year 62."

− "Two stars and a planet, John?  Don’t you think it is too much?"

− "Today I am generous. And you deserve it. And now I say unto you that you've earned it. So many civilizations seeing a bear or a plough, why not a whale? If you want it, it's yours."


 

   So the account was over, Protch. Only then the rebel Lucy went to sleep and the others gradually withdrew. And Ted left my lap to find another inn. Delta Leonis and Alpha Ursae Minoris: a star in the north and the other one in the south, which borders with Algieba on the west, Denebola on the south and Spica on the East. And my heart in full moon. In a circle, on my left, Mistress Oakes, the first in the chronological order; on my right John, the first in my chronological order. And a star with two names, like me after all. I've never used Dhur, as I never use the Nicholas I was bequeathed. Now I am just Nike, the beggar; only Zosma, the swimmer. Now you have the list of names complete, have you already learned the names, Protch?

−Let me tell you in chronological order –and he repeated aloud, without looking at the paper−. So you're Antares, Spica (and Fomalhaut and planet Venus), Algieba, Aldebaran, Castor, Pollux, Denebola and Zosma or Dhur (and Polaris); and Regulus or Elased, as they would call the child who would soon come. Don't tell me, Nike. I don't want to know which star finally fell to Earth.

−It was a star, Protch. And a star that falls to Earth can break the entire universe. And it almost broke mine. But that will have to wait. And as if this were not enough, Jupiter in your living room. No, Protch. I still do not believe in gods. But his real or fictitious breath helps to cope with poverty. I feel that we were heathen, almost heretical, that night, but the spectacle of the universe is well worth a mass. And I began to be me when I was with them; when they were with me.


 

   I was again locked in my tent, just thinking about gifts and stars. North and south are not won every day and in my arrogance, I thought I was the owner of both. But suddenly I thought that I would have to return very soon to the star that no longer told me where the north was. I started to be a sailor without a compass. In some spot in the universe between Polaris and Zosma I had lost my map and I was lost, and only the cardinal point of restful sleep came to my aid.

  I woke up early with the star of the day in the eastern crack, and quickly began to evoke the gifted lights. I was wondering who would bring me coffee, but soon I left all my erroneous conjectures. Mistress Oakes had promised to come to my tent, and it was she that brought me vertigo and coffee.

− "How are you, you handsome boy? Ready for a story?"

   She came to tell me the tale of the Universe. A tale that breached all the canons, if ever there were. It had no characters, except for the divine. There was no introduction, core and denouement. But as a product of her mind, a tale. And she had brought some more gifts with her: I was also given two gifts from the universe, two motifs by Verôme.

− "Then, how is it that all this starts?" –I asked.

−“In the origin of everything, in the beginning. But have you already finished your coffee? Have you already recovered your senses? You will need them all".

− "Then the beginning..."

− "The beginning is the cause. This entire story has its origin in God-Cause."