Page 28 of See the Stars

‘You made it,’ said Boxley, as Alice shook her coat off at the entrance to the physics fundraising gala and passed it to the cloakroom attendant, feeling embarrassed at its threadbare state.

It was a formal evening, and despite her begging, Zelda had refused to put on a dress and come with her.

Alice had nothing in her wardrobe that she deemed suitable but had found a long green silky affair in a charity shop.

It was a little tighter than she would have liked and lower-cut than she normally wore, but with little time and no budget, she’d decided it would do.

‘You scrub up well,’ said Boxley appreciatively.

‘Thanks,’ said Alice, fiddling with the top of the dress.

‘Drink?’

‘OK.’

He gestured to a waiter holding a tray of champagne flutes on one hand in a way that Alice considered rather precarious.

Boxley lifted two glasses and Alice worried about the change in the tray’s centre of gravity, but the waiter seemed unperturbed.

She looked around. They were in McEwan Hall, the grandest of the university buildings.

She’d only been here once before, for graduation.

Statues of old, dead white men lined the walls, looking at her with disapproving expressions.

A string quartet was audible above the general chatter of an old and clearly monied crowd of potential donors, interspersed with the most senior university professors wearing obsequious expressions.

‘Quite an evening, isn’t it?’ said Boxley, handing her a glass of champagne.

‘Very grand,’ replied Alice. ‘I feel a little out of place.’

‘You fit in beautifully,’ said Boxley. He clinked her glass and they both drank. Alice wasn’t used to champagne and had to concentrate on not coughing on the bubbles.

‘That’s Lord Winston,’ said Boxley, pointing discreetly to an octogenarian to their right. ‘He’s the seventh Earl of Marchington.’

‘Wow,’ said Alice, unimpressed. She looked around again. ‘I don’t see any of the other graduate students.’

‘No,’ said Boxley. ‘I only invited you.’

‘Oh,’ said Alice. ‘How come?’

‘Do you really need to ask?’

‘Yes,’ Alice replied.

‘You’re the best,’ he said. ‘It’s why I’m so hard on you. You could really be something special if you just changed your attitude. Your research ideas are rather interesting. I sometimes wonder where they come from.’

‘I used to stargaze at night when I was little,’ began Alice. ‘With my grandpa. We always hoped that we’d find a—’

Boxley held up a finger to silence her. ‘And over there is Sheikh Fayed, one of the university’s biggest donors. I can introduce you, if you like?’

Alice shrugged. ‘Sure.’

‘Sure?’ repeated Boxley. ‘I think the words you are looking for are thank you . I didn’t have this kind of privileged access when I was your age.’

‘OK,’ said Alice, feeling uncomfortable. ‘Thank you.’

‘That’s better. Now come on.’ He placed a guiding hand on the small of her back. ‘And a smile wouldn’t go amiss either.’

Alice stepped onto the balcony, seeking some fresh air.

It was freezing cold, but at least it was away from the fake laughter and Boxley’s uncomfortable gaze.

She stood for a moment and looked up, but the night was cloudy and she couldn’t make out any stars.

Even the moon was just a whitish glow through the clouds.

She put her glass down; it was hard to tell how much she’d drunk, with waiters constantly refilling her drink, but from the slight sensations of nausea she was experiencing, it had probably been too much.

It was time to go home, she decided. She just needed to head back through the hall and get her coat from the cloakroom.

‘So this is where you’re hiding.’ Boxley appeared behind her, making her jump.

‘I’m not hiding,’ she said. ‘I just needed some air.’

He looked up at the sky. ‘Cloudy tonight,’ he said. ‘Poor seeing.Sometimes I get sick of stars.’

‘Really?’ asked Alice. ‘I could never be sick of them.’

‘Good for you,’ said Boxley, sounding a little bitter. He paused. ‘You look cold,’ he said. ‘Here.’

To Alice’s horror, he took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders. ‘I’m fine, really,’ she said, attempting to shrug it off. It smelled of Boxley’s musky cologne.

He held it in place. ‘You need to learn to accept help,’ he said, his hands gripping her shoulders as he stood behind her.

‘OK,’ said Alice. She was suddenly very aware that it was just the two of them out here. ‘Thanks,’ she added, to placate him. He was still behind her, and she couldn’t see his face.

‘Let me give you some advice,’ he said, putting his mouth so close to her ear she could feel the heat of his breath. ‘You might be clever, but it will take more than that for you to be successful. You need to learn how to play the game.’

‘What game?’

Boxley laughed. ‘I think you know.’ His grip relaxed and Alice felt his fingers run gently down her arm. His mouth brushed her neck.

‘No,’ she said. She shrugged off his jacket and threw it at him, pushing her way back inside. Boxley was behind her, but they were now in the busy hall.

‘Alice,’ he said. ‘Wait.’

She stopped and turned to him. He’d fixed a smile onto his face. ‘I think there’s been a misunderstanding,’ he said.

‘A misunderstanding?’ she repeated.

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Perhaps you’ve had too much to drink.’ He laughed. ‘Maybe we both have. I was simply suggesting that I can mentor you, if you like.’

‘No,’ replied Alice. She fished in her bag for her cloakroom ticket.

‘It’s a good offer,’ said Boxley. ‘I could really help you.’

Alice handed the ticket to the attendant and waited for her coat before she replied. ‘In that case,’ she said, putting on the coat and zipping it up, ‘no thank you .’

‘Ah, you’ve decided to grace us with your presence, Miss Thorington,’ said Boxley, waving her in.

Alice had been up late with the stars and had slept through her alarm.

In the weeks since the incident at the party, things had been tense between them.

She hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Zelda.

Perhaps she’d misinterpreted him. Maybe it had all been in her head.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she muttered.

‘We were just discussing where the next big breakthrough in exoplanet detection might come from.’

‘Has something been seen?’

‘Not at all,’ said Boxley. ‘Your view on radial velocity?’ he asked, putting her on the spot.

‘It’s not a bad approach,’ said Alice. ‘But I think transit imaging is the future.’

‘I’m glad you said that. You’re in luck. We are the proud recipients of infrared data from the new space telescope. I requested it myself, with you in mind.’

‘I’d love to look!’

‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Boxley, looking pleased. ‘So I’m handing the data to you.’

‘Great,’ said Alice. Why was he doing this for her?

‘Unfortunately, there’s been a technical issue. The data file is corrupted, I’m afraid, so you’ll need to reprocess all the observations.’

‘What?’ Alice’s face fell.

‘One by one.’ He smiled at her.

‘Professor, that will take for ever.’

‘Nothing takes for ever,’ said Boxley. ‘A few months, perhaps.’

‘But I have my own research—’

‘No you don’t. You do this task, or I don’t think I can justify your funding.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me. And if you refuse to do it . . . ’

‘I’m not refusing,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘Good luck,’ said Boxley with a smile. ‘And Miss Thorington?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice, her mind already whirring with the task ahead of her.

‘You’re welcome.’

Alice felt better once she’d started. Yes, it was a mammoth task, but she had direct access to data that could, with a little luck, contain information about where the next earth-like exoplanet was located.

Yes, it was corrupt data, but as she re-entered it, she could study the contents.

Of course, most likely there would be nothing there, but if there was, she would find it.

She had already decided to start her task with the nearest stars. She smiled to herself, remembering her grandfather. If people were to one day move to Planet Thorington, they needed to be able to get there within a lifetime.

What else would her grandpa suggest?

If you want an earth-like planet, you need a sun-like star . That was what he’d say.

So she’d decided to prioritise the stars that were a similar size to the sun, but ideally a little younger, perhaps a little cooler. The ants needed a good long future, she decided, smiling to herself again.

It was still a vast task, and incredibly boring, but the little glimmer of hope made the whole thing much more manageable.

After all, she’d chosen to spend her life searching for relatively tiny lumps of rock orbiting one of billions of balls of burning gas.

Going through and inputting reams of data was good practice.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d find what she was looking for.