A Theory of Gravity

by Wycroft Taylor

  “Also, in a society where members are made aware of the fact that feelings of special connections are real and important and might easily be not recognized for what they are, the one hearing such a speech will be more likely to agree to a follow-up meeting.

  “In a society where nothing about feelings of special connections have been taught but where a being has enough of a connection to its own feelings to know that they are real, the individual (perhaps coached by wise relatives or friends) may practice another kind of speech which may involve always having some pretext for turning a casual encounter into something more meaningful.

  “One might say, for example: “Friends of mine and I are planning a nice party for next weekend, would you (and your friends) like to come?’ Even if no such party is planned or ever takes place but the other person seems interested, one gets at least a chance to get a name and a way to contact the other person. Another speech of this kind might have to do with any forthcoming event that is likely to interest people. ‘I have a spare ticket to this or that event and hate to waste it, would you like to go with me?’

  “Such speeches have to be memorized. Also the being memorizing the speech has to always have something in mind for filling in the blanks. Only then, can the words burst forth automatically and smoothly.

  “Much more can be said about the phenomenon of special connections and the feelings and problems associated with its existence but not here. Perhaps another opportunity to speculate about such matters will present itself.”

  The essay ended with that last paragraph.

  Chapter 52: Reflections

  Peter and Sylvia read and reread the words as arranged (or edited) by them. Because they knew that, once they returned to Earth and presented this and the other essay, it would be widely disseminated, they took a few liberties with the translation mostly because Peter did not or could not copy all of the inscriptions (which meant that some ideas were just partially expressed but also because they had no knowledge of or experience with some of the examples given in the inscriptions.

  They decided in the end to make two translations with one being suitable for distribution to the public and another, a very literal translation, being suitable for presentation to fellow scientists.

  Both Peter and Sylvia felt that the ideas very interesting and to a great extent very wise and true. It excited them to see the ideas unfold once they had translated the inscriptions and then put them together in the proper order. They were also struck by the fact that their thinking while living inside of the asteroid paralleled in so many ways the ideas expounded in the essay even though, when they got the ideas, they had not yet translated or put together the inscriptions.

  They felt that they themselves, in their own lives, illustrated the truth of much of what was contained in the essay since they felt that the special connection at the center of the essay applied to the way they felt about each other and applied also to a few rare and fleeting and improperly understood and inadequately acted on that both felt when in the presence of others back on Earth. Reading the essay helped them better appreciate how rare and valuable their relationship was. The essay also reinforced some ideas they had about how to sustain their relationship. It also gave them a few new ideas that they resolved to think more about and possibly eventually try to implement.

  Reflecting on the part of the essay which suggested that different souls are naturally disposed to have different numbers of relationships, Sylvia said, “I think I belong to that middle group. For instance, I feel specially connected to our teacher and with another of these creatures and even with some people I met back on Earth.” When Peter asked who the other creature on this asteroid beside the teacher who evoked the feeling, she whispered the answer into his ear. He was very surprised and felt very jealous. She blushed but added, “But, as the essay points out, my feelings for these others do not in any way mean that my feeling of having a special connection with you is not real and still rare and very precious.”

  “I think I belong to the first group,” Peter said and added, “with you being the only one for me.”

  Sylvia thought about what he said. In light of the fact that he was in his thirties and still said that made her said. She put her arm around his shoulder and patted one of his hands with her free hand and said, “Maybe you just have not lived long enough or been around enough to be able to say to what group you belong though it is obvious to me that neither you nor I belong to the third group.”

  They wished they knew something about the author. At the very least, they wished they knew the species of the author, where the author lived, and when it lived.

  They made handwritten copies of the entire essay and made copies of the words in English beneath the inscriptions that had the same meaning as the words for the benefit of the linguists back on Earth. The handwritten copies were carefully stowed away inside of their bags and also put into pockets built into their space suits. They made a copy for their teacher also, which the teacher gracefully accepted. When they asked the teacher if it already was familiar with the contents, it made a series of guttural sounds that resembled the sounds people make when choking. Then it said, “I know another version of these ideas with the pieces being put together in a slightly different way.”

  They also asked the teacher what the teacher knew about the author of the essay but got only a very evasive reply with the teacher saying only, “That was written a long time ago” and refused to say anything more in answer to their question about what the teacher knew about the author even though they suspected that the teacher knew much more than the teacher was willing to divulge.

  About this time, Sylvia was so obviously pregnant that Peter, deeply affected by her pregnancy and full of wonder about the whole process of pregnancy and birth, became inspired to make drawings of her.

  The same talents he had employed in drawing the inscriptions, he now applied to his drawings of Sylvia.

  Seeing her sit on a chair or lying on his or her bed, he sometimes would say, “How picturesque you are! Would you mind if I made a quick sketch?” When she did not mind, he would pull out a pencil and notebook (the creatures supplied him with a new notebook whenever he filled up what he had) and make a drawing of her.

  One evening, while making one of his drawings, Sylvia said, “When the baby comes, we’ll have to name it. Have you given any thought to what a good name might be?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Peter replied. But let’s think about it now.” Before Sylvia got a chance to say anything more about the naming of a baby, Peter added, “We know what the nickname will be. When we return to Earth, people are sure to call it ‘star child’” and maybe also ‘asteroid boy.’”

  Sylvia said, “Despite that, we need to give it a proper name.”

  When Peter did not answer right away but instead resumed drawing, possibly inspired by the thoughtful look on Sylvia’s face as she pondered a name for the child, Sylvia said, “I’m wondering if it might not be a good idea to name our future child after the teacher.

  “After all,” she added while looking at Peter working away at his drawing, “the teacher has served as our principle guide, protector and mentor during almost the whole of our time here.”

  Peter added, “And, during all this time, the teacher, though sometimes evasive and sometimes plain weird, was never once obviously unkind to us, unless, that is, (Peter scratched his chin at this point as if considering something that had not previously crossed his mind) the teacher was behind my ordeal of the maze and your ordeal of the ramp.”

  “Even that might not have been unkind if you consider how worried the creatures are about what problems unscreened visitors might bring,” said Sylvia, adding, “Have you forgotten what the teacher said about the Spanish conquistadors? Don’t you think they had a right to try something—anything—that worked to keep from happening to them what happened to the Incas and Aztecs.” She liked the teacher. It annoyed her that Peter raised even the possibility of the teacher’s
having been unkind to them even for a little while.

  Sylvia then quickly steered the conversation away from what she considered to be Peter’s morbid thinking. Instead, she steered the conversation back to the problem of the naming of their future child. She said, “I am sure the teacher will get a big kick out of having the first human baby born in outer space named after it though, I suppose, we might have to modify the name to make it so that it rolls easily of the tongues of Earth-based humans.”

  They had decided a little while before that the best translation into English of the teacher’s name would be Elsingikor, a name inside of which they thought a number of good girls’ names but not any good boys’ names could be found.

  So, if the child were to be a girl, they thought they could call it Elise or Ellen or Elsa, all of those being good names that Earthlings would readily accept. Pulling a boy’s name out of the teacher’s name, however, they did not think would be very easy. No appropriate abbreviation of modification of the teacher’s name came to them at all, at least not right away.

  Peter mentioned that the teacher’s name reminded him of the name of the city where Hamlet lived though he couldn’t exactly remember what that name was and besides did not want to create a situation whereby any sort of parallel to the life of Hamlet and the life or destiny of their child would be drawn by anyone.

  Sylvia got an idea, “Why don’t we name him “Corel” or “Korel” which puts the last syllable of the teacher’s name first and the first syllable last? Either of those names would, I feel, sound okay to Earthlings albeit a little bit exotic and possibly even other worldly.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being thought other worldly, is there? Peter said, adding, “And another advantage of choosing either of those names is that good nicknames can be found in either of them—Cory from Corel or Kory from Korel,” Peter said, looking very pleased with himself for having said what he just said.

  “Also,” Sylvia said, “I’m thinking that having the name begin with a ‘k’ would be better than having it begin with a ‘c.’ A ‘k,’ I think, creates a more exotic-sounding or other-worldly-sounding name than an initial ‘c’ would. Beginning the name with a ‘k’ would be, I think, more likely to conjure up in Earthlings minds pictures of extraterrestrial places without, I feel, sounding too odd. Mystery rather than weirdness or tragedy would, I think, be evoked”

  Peter said, “I’m also thinking that a name might be derived from the last two syllables—Igor which might be turned into Icor which, in turn, might be turned into Icarus but no, on second thought, I don’t really like either of those names: Igor sounds too much like a name Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant would have and Icarus presents the same kinds of problems of tragic association and doomed destiny as the name Hamlet. Though Icarus is a nice-sounding name, I just wouldn’t feel comfortable giving our future child the name of a mythical being who died because he flew too high. If naming a child because he might someday fly far or soar high was our goal, then Eagle, Hawk, or Rocket would be better names—the connotations would be very much better, wouldn’t they?”

  Sylvia said, “By the time the little tyke gets to Earth, he will have already flown higher and soared farther than any human in history except for us. There will be no need to emphasize the point with a name.”

  So, in the end, they agreed to name the child Korel and to give it the nickname Kory. Sylvia said, “I can’t wait to tell the teacher that we’ve decided to name the child after the teacher who I think the teacher will be very pleased to hear that.”

  “We’ll tell the teacher first thing tomorrow morning,” Peter said. He said this while, at the same time, he was putting the finishing touches on his drawing of Sylvia sitting on an easy chair. After a few moments had passed, he picked up his notebook and looked at it while he held it as far away from him as his arms were long and then while he brought it as close to his eyes as he could without having to get cross-eyed. “There, I think that’s done. I think it’s a pretty good likeness. And it looks natural and not posed. And, most important of all, the expression on your face is interesting. All in all, I like it. I am pleased with it. What do you think?”

  And then Peter showed Sylvia the picture he had drawn while talking about what to name their future child. He wrote at the bottom of it this caption: “Sylvia thinks about what to name her child.”

  Sylvia spent some time looking at the picture. She looked at it with one eye (after closing the other eye) and then with her other eye (after closing the first eye and opening the second). Just as Peter did, she held it first away from her and then up close. She said, “You know, I like it too. I admire it for the simplicity of line and the unmistakable likeness, a double accomplishment. Either one is hard to carry off successfully. Accomplishing both together takes genius.”

  Peter had an idea. He said, “You should draw too. I don’t think individuals who are a couple should go in different directions even when it comes to hobbies, maybe especially when it comes to hobbies.”

  “But I am not an artist,” Sylvia said.

  “But you are,” Peter insisted. “Everyone is.” He hastened to add, “The reason people decide they are not artists is that they set standards for themselves that deviate from the talent they have, and so they conclude that they are ‘not artists.’ I think you should just do what you can do. You don’t have to do it as much as I do, but you should do it every once in a while. We can sometimes do this together, as part of a schedule. That way, we’d both get more into it, enjoy drawing more, help each other and spur each other on.”

  “And what if I decide to take up knitting or needlepoint, two hobbies I had when I was a little girl back home?” Sylvia asked. “That would be wonderful,” Peter said. “I’ll do that do. We can schedule one night each week for knitting, another for needlepoint, and a third for drawing, if we think doing all of those things as frequently as one night of each every week would be fun.”

  Peter than abruptly changed the subject. He said, “Sylvia, I was wondering. What are you planning to do tomorrow night?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she answered smiling. “What if I were to spend it with you?” she said as a joke because she knew and Peter knew very well that the next night was one of the nights when they slept together after spending the evening talking and kissing.

  Sylvia wondered what Peter was driving it and if he was just being silly. He said, “Can I count on your being with me tomorrow night then? Is being together tomorrow night a date then?” “Well,” she said, being very ironic and sarcastic, “I was thinking of going out on the town and maybe take in a movie and maybe go to a club and maybe drive down to the beach and take a swim, but I suppose I’ll put that off and spend the evening with you instead. Why do you ask?”

  “I asked you what you were doing tomorrow night and asked you to promise to spend tomorrow evening with me because I have important plans for tomorrow—something important I wanted to say to you.” “And what might that be?” Sylvia asked, her eyebrows raised and lips pursed. “Oh, just this,” Peter said, “I want to tell you that I want to marry you. Don’t say anything now. I am not proposing now but tomorrow I will propose. This way, you get a night and a day to decide how to respond when I propose to you. It would be nice if we were at home on Earth and you could call your friends and family, but, under these circumstances, I think the best we can do is to give you a night and a day to think this over.”

  Even while talking about being on Earth, Peter realized that, if they were back on Earth, they might never have met and, even if they had met, might never have gotten into a situation where they could fall in love and spend a lot of time together.

  Sylvia was about to say something when Peter interrupted her by saying, “Please don’t say anything now. Don’t give away your intentions until after I pop the question. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, “but I was only going to ask you, supposing I were to say yes, when you would want the marriage to take place.” “Right away,” he said. “Isn
’t that going to be something of a problem?” she asked. “Who would officiate? Are there justices of the peace? Are there witnesses? Is there a courthouse? Do laws exist? Are there churches and ministers?”

  “We’ll figure all of that out when the time comes. We’ll ask the teacher to officiate. We’ll create our own vows. We’ll design our own certificate. When we get back to Earth, we’ll show them what we have and, if necessary, do it all again at a city hall or courthouse.” Peter added, “We have to have sort of marriage before the baby comes. In fact, we should have gotten married before you became pregnant but we missed that boat.”

  “We sure did,” Sylvia said while also poking him playfully in his belly. Then she moved over so that she sat beside him and put her arms around him and kissed him. “Let’s look at some of your other drawings,” she said.

  He showed her his notebook, turning over the pages one by one. It was then that Sylvia first realized that he had been drawing other things than her. She found drawings of their rooms and, from memory, some of the parts of the maze he had navigated. He also drew some pictures of creatures crawling on the ground and sitting on motorized carts.

  He ended up doing his drawings of the creatures surreptitiously after having asked a couple of the creatures to pose for him. Because of the way they hesitated to answer him and also because of the way they backed away from him after he asked them to pose and also because the only answer he could get from them after asking them to pose was “I don’t know—I don’t think so,” he decided that drawing them when they knew they were being drawn would just not be possible—the creatures were just too shy to let pictures be made of their images or too fearful of what he or anyone else who got hold of the pictures might do to them after seeing the pictures.