“So where did all the weird plants come from?” asked Bellona.
“It’s likely there was micro-biological life already present in the rocks, similar to what has been found on Mars,” he replied. “The ravines along the equator receive plenty of sunlight and are deep enough to trap water and a thick layer of air, thus creating an ideal environment for complex life to evolve. It’s worth remembering that before the collision it is believed the planet was tidally-locked and thus quite inhospitable.”
“Tidally what?” remarked Miss Clymene. “I teach music,” she added, by way of an explanation. “Astrophysics is not one of my strengths, I’m afraid. Ask me how to group quavers in six-eight time and I’m your woman.”
“Quite,” muttered the scientist. “To explain, Ascension orbits Barnard’s Star so closely its rotation should have been slowed by gravity long ago, leaving it spinning just once every orbit to thus always keep the same side of the planet facing towards the sun. You can see the same effect with moons as they orbit their primaries. Ingui and Geat have become tidally-locked around Woden, for example.”
Philyra and Bellona looked blank.
“Or like Luna around Earth?” the scientist suggested.
Philyra shrugged. “Never been to Earth,” she admitted.
“Well, like the Tianzun moons of Shennong. Lingbao, Yuanshi, Daode?”
“Ah!” said Bellona. “We have been studying Epsilon Eridani.”
“We’re going to Daode in a few days,” Philyra added.
“Whatever. The point is that the impact hit Ascension so hard it changed the planet’s spin,” the scientist continued. “They say love makes the world go round, but on Ascension it was a kiss from a prehistoric planetoid!”
He beamed, waiting for a reaction to his joke. Endymion shrugged, looking baffled. Bellona and Philyra turned away, embarrassed by an adult’s attempt at humour.
“That’s very amusing,” said Miss Clymene slowly, eyeing the scientist carefully.
“Other people think so,” he muttered. “To conclude, the impact was enough to give Ascension days and nights; though as you know, days here are much longer than they are on Earth or Taotie. This is also why the sun rises in the west rather than the east.”
“Why would it rise in the east?” asked Philyra. “That’s stupid.”
“That’s enough questions,” Miss Clymene snapped. She turned to their host. “Thank you for your time. It has been most educational, but I’m sure you have lots of lovely scientific things to do. I was hoping to meet up with a friend of mine who works here. When I spoke to him this morning he promised to show us the meteor that came down in the Ravines.”
“Was it a big one?” asked Endymion. “I can’t wait to see it.”
The scientist looked apologetic. “That may not be possible,” he confessed. “The area is off limits at the moment. It’s not what we thought it was.”
“It’s not a meteor?” asked Bellona. “What is it then?”
“I’ve already said too much,” the scientist admitted.
“Perhaps we should just head for the camp and get some rest,” said Miss Clymene. “I’ll catch up with my friend tomorrow and ask if we can come and see the meteor next time.”
“Next time?” Endymion looked downcast. “It won’t be here next time.”
“In my experience, when meteors fall down, they stay down,” the teacher said firmly. “Now, say thank you to the nice scientist for showing you his hologram.”
“Thank you Mister Scientist,” intoned Endymion, Bellona and Philyra.
Miss Clymene nodded courteously to the scientist, who looked a little bemused. They received few visitors at the Ravines, unless you counted the shadowy grey figures his colleague was convinced lived out in the jungle.
“I hope it was educational,” he replied. “Good luck with the camping!”
Before long, they reached their camp for the night, which was an inflatable dome permanently pegged to the ground in a small clearing not far from the research station. The concept of ‘night’ was largely artificial; as the scientist had noted, days were long on this strange world. Ascension took the equivalent of fourteen Terran days to rotate just once on its axis. In contrast, the planet was so close to Barnard’s Star that it positively hurled around the star, taking just three Terran weeks to complete each orbit. This also meant that the relatively-small Barnard’s Star looked six times bigger from the surface of Ascension than Sol did from Earth, though the weak daylight offered by the ancient red dwarf was nowhere near as bright. Ascension’s orbit and rotation, along with its backwards rotation, resulted in a day that lasted on average eighty-four hours, followed by a further eighty-four hours of night. The native plants of the Eden Ravines had long evolved to cope, but human biology was not so adaptable and remained firmly wedded to the old day-and-night cycles of Earth.
Therefore, even though the sun was almost directly overhead, the twenty-four-hour clocks of their wristpads were telling them it was getting close to bedtime. The journey out to the gloomy Ravines had been long and they were all tired. Bellona and Philyra sat outside the dome, munching upon the contents of their pack lunches while Endymion sat to one side with his stomach rumbling. Miss Clymene had just arrived back at the camp after having returned briefly to the research station. In her hand she held a small metal canister, from which emanated an odour not unlike mushroom soup. Endymion eyed it hungrily.
“You’re in luck, Endymion!” Miss Clymene declared. “It just so happens that the scientists have discovered a plant in the Ravines that isn’t toxic to humans. What’s more, they’ve kindly made some into soup for you. Isn’t that nice of them?”
Endymion took the canister from her and opened the lid. The steaming liquid inside was a luminous shade of grey with orange lumps floating upon the surface. Close up, the smell was not so pleasant and so strong he wanted to gag.
“Yuck!” exclaimed Endymion. “It looks like a can of cat vomit!”
“I did tell you not to forget your pack lunch,” Miss Clymene pointed out, sitting down beside them. “Well, that’s the alternative. Maybe next time you will remember to take notice of what I say.”
“Yes, Miss Clymene,” muttered Endymion, meekly. Holding his nose, he took a sip of the soup and cringed. “Actually, this isn’t bad.”
“Really?” Philyra was curious.
“No,” he admitted. “It tastes revolting.”
After they finished eating, Miss Clymene pulled out her slate to catch up on her work. They were supposed to be departing for Daode in two Terran days’ time but spaceport customer services at Newbrum had still not found them a flight to Epsilon Eridani. Endymion’s earlier comment about sharing a shuttle with Bradbury Heights had touched a nerve, as their rivals had chartered the only interstellar cruiser currently docked at Ascension and made it clear there were no spare seats for the Newbrum school band. It soon transpired that this was not a problem she could resolve right now.
“No signal,” she sighed, tossing aside the slate in mock disgust. The bottom of the Eden Ravines was out of range of Newbrum’s transmitters and all she was getting was the scientists’ local network, which was sluggish and confounding her attempts to link to the wider net.
Philyra looked at her own wristpad in disgust. “How can you not get the holovid channels here?” she complained. “This place is the pits!”
“Exactly,” said Endymion. “A great big deep dark pit. That’s why there’s no signal.”
“But this is inhumane! How dare they take away my Gods of Avalon!”
“It’s just a holovid programme,” murmured Bellona, then jumped as Philyra shot her a look dripping with venom.