Stars Fell on Alabama

by M. Alan Marr

  Chapter 7

  Starry-Eyed

  Mission Time: 9 days

  Starbucks

  Midtown Atlanta, 0945 Hours.

  First order of business each day is coffee, initially the best thing on Earth. That distinction eventually fell to second place after Dev experienced bacon for the first time. The Starbucks line is old hat to him now. He orders his usual venti Pike with lots of room and prepares it with plenty of delicious half and half, and now, a dash of nutmeg to make it perfect.

  Dev sits in his usual Starbucks chair and goes to work writing on his laptop. Today’s research concerns the impact of mobile phones and the Internet. In the span of less than thirty years, the rise of the Internet and advance of personal computation and communications devices has changed the world. Never before has the population of Earth had such far-reaching capability. Little does Dev know just how much of that bandwidth is used for porn.

  His early experience here has made him comfortable enough to work in public. He figured out how to use the actual word processing program on the computer and then export the documents to his private files. To the untrained eye, it would seem like Dev is just typing a journal or wordy document, although he scaled down the font slightly to decrease the probability of anyone actually reading the text.

  A tall man with a commanding presence enters and orders a venti blonde roast with some ice in the top, “just to drop the temperature a bit.”

  Dev finishes the last paragraph of his report and exits out of the word processing program. The laptop screen defaults to the resident cosmos program, the navigation plot always running in the background. The screen shows Earth’s star system and planets, tiny pixels representing satellites and (now) the current position of the International Space Station. A very fine, perpetually changing arc line from Earth to the outbound reaches of the solar system is displayed, along with tiny calculations and a dynamic series of numbers as the planets move around the sun. The tall man, about to pass behind Dev, glances at the computer screen, pauses, and strikes up a conversation.

  “Keeping track of the heavens?”

  Dev turns around and looks up at the man and does something of a double take. “In . . . a manner of speaking.”

  The man looks into Dev’s eyes and jokes. “Nothing headed our way, is there?”

  Dev smiles and looks at the screen for a moment. “No. Not today, anyway.”

  The tall man leans over slightly. “That looks very interesting. What program is that? That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”

  “No, not at all. It’s just something I’ve been working on.” Dev takes an instant liking to this man, who seems genuinely interested, so he elaborates. “Basically, it’s a cosmological plot.”

  “Of what?”

  “Satellites, platforms, geostat devices, probes, planetary orbits, and gravitation.”

  “Wow,” the man says and looks closer. “And all those numbers?”

  Dev likes this guy. Gregarious, social, and confident, while most of the people he’s encountered have been more reserved. Dev decides to engage the man in conversation and points out the data blocks on the screen. “Right ascension and declination, gravitational flux, solar wind gradient, orbital displacement, transmission vectors, things like that.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “Oh, just a project I’m working on.” Dev adds, “Would you care to join me?”

  “I would, definitely. Unless I’m interrupting.”

  “No, not at all,” Dev replies with a hint of eagerness in his voice. He hasn’t had an actual conversation with anyone not providing goods and services and is happy to finally have some real company.

  “I’m Chaz, by the way, Chaz Ronaldi.”

  “Dev Caelestis.”

  “Dev? That’s a cool name. Is that short for Devon?”

  “No, it’s . . . just Dev.” He thinks a moment and wonders, “Is Chaz short for something?”

  “It’s usually short for Charles, but not in my case. I’m officially just Chaz.”

  “I see.”

  “Are you an astronomer, Dev?”

  “More of a . . . historian. This year anyway. I’m on sort of a sabbatical.”

  “So what does the universe have to do with history of the world?”

  “Everything.” Dev smiles. “It’s all connected. One way or another.”

  “I suppose it is, isn’t it?”

  “Very much so.”

  Chaz takes a sip of his coffee and registers a question. “Caelestis? Is that spelled with a K or a C?”

  “C.”

  “That’s also an interesting name. Is it Greek?”

  “Partially,” Dev says, then changes the subject. “What is it you do here, Chaz?”

  “I’m a pilot.”

  Dev registers slight surprise. “A pilot—really, in what capacity?”

  “I fly for Triad Airlines, for a little over ten years now.” Chaz adds, “I flew in the Navy before that.”

  Dev is even more intrigued. “Impressive. What is your rank?”

  “Lieutenant Commander.”

  “Outstanding,” Dev replies. “What did you fly in the Navy? Subsonic? Supersonic? Atmospheric? Orbital?”

  Chaz laughs at Dev’s choice of words. “I spent most of my naval career flying helicopters. So that would be, subsonic, atmospheric. Definitely suborbital.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m a first officer on the 767-400. I mainly fly to Europe and the Far East and occasionally South America.”

  “That is very exciting!” Dev says in all honesty.

  “It really is,” Chaz says with a great smile. “I love my job. I always have.”

  “Triad Airlines,” Dev comments. “That is a large airline, yes?”

  “Industry leading,” Chaz says proudly. “Over nine hundred aircraft in our fleet.”

  “Impressive. Triad flies everywhere?”

  “Just about. Domestically, we cover most of the US. We’re huge in Europe, Asia, and South America. South Pacific not so much, but we started flying to Australia a few years ago.”

  “The world at your fingertips.” Dev smiles.

  Chaz is about to agree when a mother and two fast-paced children enter the Starbucks and the noise level increases dramatically.

  “Wonderful,” Chaz says as the calm of Starbucks quickly descends into chaos.

  Dev leans toward Chaz. “That woman comes in here every day at this time. I think her children are fueled entirely by sugar.”

  The children knock over a small coffee display. The woman yells, “Olivia!” and then attempts to simultaneously wrangle her kids and pick up the mess. “JJ, put that down!”

  “I think you’ve nailed it.” Chaz laughs. “Uh, would you be interested in continuing the conversation outside?”

  “Stop hitting your sister!”

  “Absolutely.” Dev packs up his laptop in his messenger bag and takes his coffee, but not before smiling at Chaz and allowing him to go first. From the sidewalk, they hear a high-pitched scream inside the Starbucks. They laugh and walk away from the chaos to continue their pleasant conversation.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” Chaz says. “Are you new to Atlanta?”

  “Very. I arrived here nine days ago.”

  “Where were you before?”

  Dev smiles at that question. “Most recently, Alabama.”

  “You definitely don’t sound like you’re from Alabama,” Chaz says. “How do you like Midtown so far?”

  “So far . . . I like it,” Dev replies. “Metropolitan, comfortable.”

  “That’s so true.” Their conversation is effortless and welcoming. “So where are you from, Dev?”

  “Eh,” Dev hesitates, but then answers honestly. “I’m from a Province called Bari.”

  “Bari? In Ontario? I’ve heard of it, although haven’t spent much time in the Canadian Provinces.”

  He thinks I’m from Canada . . . okay, that works. “Beautiful place, right
on the water.”

  “So what brings you to Atlanta?”

  “There’s some acreage in Alabama I’m trying to acquire. The owners of the property are residents here.”

  “You’re just here for business then?”

  “Well . . .” Dev replies, “Business brought me here, but I’ve decided to stay.”

  “That’s great! Did you find a place to live yet?”

  “I did. I’m in process of buying . . . a place . . . at the Gillespie.”

  “Oh, nice. I looked at the Gillespie, but it was a little out of my price range at the time. I ended up buying a condo right across the street.”

  “We’ll be neighbors.” Dev beams. “What a nice surprise.”

  “Yes, it is,” Chaz says brightly. “How do you like the Gillespie?”

  “I haven’t actually moved in yet. My decorator is still working on it.”

  “You hired a decorator?”

  “Yes.” Dev replies, feeling slightly hesitant. “I doubt I’d be very successful in that task myself.” He adds, “Why? Is it . . . unusual to hire a decorator?”

  “Not unusual,” Chaz replies, “just very expensive.” He changes the subject. “Where are you staying until it’s ready?”

  “I’m lodging at the W Hotel.”

  “I like the W, it’s very hip,” Chaz says. “So, Dev Caelestis, do you have anything pressing today?”

  Aside from the fate of the world? “No, not at all,” Dev replies.

  “I was just wondering . . . and I hope I’m not out of line, but would you be interested in going for a walk around the park?”

  “I would love to,” Dev says. “Do you mind if we stop at the hotel first? I’d like to drop my bag off.”

  “Not at all.”

  They make the short walk to the W and take the elevator to the twentieth floor. Chaz had planned on waiting in the lobby, but their conversation seemed to continue right into the elevator, so he follows Dev into his rather large suite.

  “Wow,” Chaz comments. “This is nice.”

  “I’m enjoying my stay here.” Dev drops off his messenger bag on the couch. “It’s a little warmer outside than I thought. I’m going to leave my jacket here,” he says, while walking into the bedroom. Chaz lingers in the living room and looks at a collection of technical books on the coffee table.

  “You’re reading about radar tracking systems?” Chaz calls toward the bedroom.

  He hears a “Yes” from Dev in the walk-in closet. “Research for the program I’m working on.”

  Dev takes his jacket off and looks at himself in the closet mirror, then decides to put on a different shirt before returning to the living room.

  Chaz notices the wardrobe change. “You changed your shirt.”

  “I didn’t like the way the other one looked without the jacket.”

  Is he on the team? Chaz wonders.

  Outside and on foot once again, Dev and Chaz talk casually as meander toward the park.

  “So, tell me more, Dev.”

  “Such as?”

  “Are you married?”

  “I am not.”

  “Seeing anyone?”

  “As in a relationship? No. And you?”

  “Very single. I was in a relationship until a little over a year ago, but didn’t work out so well.” Chaz’s stomach growls. “I’m starving. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Do you like sushi?”

  “I do, as a matter of fact, although I haven’t had any here.”

  “I know an excellent sushi bar, Sushi Tama. I’m thinking about asking you to lunch.”

  Dev smiles. “Perfect idea.”

  “It’s still a little early, but by the time we walk around the park and head to the restaurant we should be all set.”

  “Lead on.”

  The walk around the park gives Chaz the opportunity to highlight various points of interest; all things Dev might have missed on his own. Dev quickly realizes Chaz could be very helpful in his understanding of the many nuances of this world. Leaving the park, they board a MARTA train for two stops. Chaz noticed Dev didn’t have a MARTA card, so he used his own to cover Dev’s fare for the brief train ride.

  Sushi Tama restaurant has just opened for the day. Chaz and Dev are the first and only patrons. That will quickly change once the early lunch crowd descends on the place. They opt to sit at the sushi bar.

  “Sorry to drag you to lunch so early. I just flew in from Madrid and my stomach is still on European time.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  “This is my favorite sushi place in Atlanta,” Chaz adds.

  During lunch, Dev learns more about Triad Airlines and the life of a 767 First Officer. He particularly enjoys hearing about Chaz’s prior service in the Navy. Dev asks intelligent questions about the ships Chaz served on, and about commercial aviation, the way a brainy mathematician or engineer might. This is refreshing for Chaz, rather than getting the irritating ‘what’s your route’ or ‘can you fly me for free’ questions people typically ask.

  “When do you fly again?” Dev says.

  “Sunday morning,” Chaz replies. “I typically fly three or four days, and then have four or five days off.”

  “Is that considered a favorable schedule?”

  “Are you kidding? Since most people work nine-to-five and only have Saturday and Sunday off, yes, it’s very favorable. Being a pilot is a total dream job.”

  Dev agrees with the dream job statement, but looks perplexed. “Nine two five?”

  “Yeah.” Chaz sees the confused look on Dev’s face and elaborates. “The typical forty-hour work week?” Nothing. “Most people work from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm . . .”

  “Oh, nine to five!”

  Chaz narrows his eyes and points his chopsticks at Dev. “Okay, Caelestis, I’m detecting a trend here.”

  Dev wonders if he somehow blew his cover. “What kind of trend?”

  Chaz has no choice but to answer now. “Uh . . . well, obviously you are very smart.” Chaz says the next part quietly. “And, based on what I’ve seen so far—the suite at the W, the Gillespie, the interior designer, and that excellent Elie Tahari shirt—you’re obviously not hurting for money.”

  “Hurting for money?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s completely inappropriate for me to comment about your finances.”

  Dev thinks about what Chaz just said. “Oh, I think I understand now. No, I’m not hurting for money.” He pauses and adds, “Is that a problem?”

  Chaz laughs. “It’s hardly what I would call a problem.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Chaz replies. “I think sometimes people tend to be intimidated by affluent people, or they want something from them.”

  “Interesting,” Dev replies. “Which are you?”

  “Neither,” Chaz says emphatically. He adds, “In fact, I’m going to buy you lunch.”

  Dev laughs. “Then I’ll pay for the next meal.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Dev is happy they’re going to have another meal together. He also considers what Chaz said. “Is affluence really a problem for people here?”

  “Well, most people aren’t, that’s the problem.” Chaz adds some perspective. “I had a friend, Tom, in Columbus. Tom was an older man, and he had a ton of money. People just used him, and it pissed me off. He was such a nice guy, and everyone took advantage.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It gets worse,” Chaz says. “Tom died suddenly, and not one of those people came to his funeral.”

  Dev looks at Chaz. “But you did.”

  “Of course I did. He was my friend.” Chaz adds, “He wasn’t my friend because he had money.”

  “Then I doubt it will be any sort of issue.”

  “It won’t be for me.”

  “Well, then, we have nothing to worry about.”

  Dish after dish of beautifully prepared sushi is served. Dev isn’t fa
miliar with the local names of the fish, but he memorizes the picture menu fairly quickly. Pronouncing the Japanese names occasionally involved slight correction, but Chaz writes that off as Canadian pronunciation. But Dev is a very quick study.

  The restaurant fills up, just as Chaz said it would. Dev likes how the sushi chefs shout greetings to everyone as they entered and departed. Plate after plate of beautifully prepared sushi is served up. Chaz notices Dev seems to savor and appreciate everything served to him, and that his appetite rivals Chaz’s own. What a great meal.

  The chance meeting at Starbucks has led to a newfound friendship. Lunch was a success. Dinner, they decided, would be the next evening.

  Dinner would lead to another, and another, and another. Although technically not part of his mission, Dev gains better understanding about present day Earth, just by engaging Chaz in conversation. Listening to Chaz’s political viewpoints, opinions on social issues, and what direction he sees his world as going lends first-person context to subjects that were previously only theoretically understood by Dev.

  Dev initially had concerns that spending so much time with one person would lead to too many questions being asked. Histories, background, professional aspirations; the normal things that come with getting to know someone. Somehow, it hasn’t been like this at all. Their conversations flow effortlessly, covering a wide range of topics. Whatever Dev lacks in practical experience, he makes up for in intelligent supposition and discourse. Inexperience with American customs and politics are easily dismissed, as Dev is, well, Canadian.

  The advent of twenty-four-hour cable news spanning all continents of the world makes the present-day job of observation and data collection that much simpler. How times on Earth have changed. As technology advances, the frontiers grow smaller. Earth residents are in the early stages of forming a global community. Now if they can just stop killing each other.