by John A. Church

“You’re home early, Dad!”
“We only work half days at the office now because of the pandemic. I stopped on the
way home to get you something because I know how much you like astronomy.”
“Thank you! I bet it’s a telescope.”
“You’re right. Tonight’s going to be clear and we can try it out.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure, let’s go inside and set it up.”
It was a small refractor, a good starter scope for a youngster. They positioned it on its
tripod and the father showed his child how to point and focus it. They could both hardly
wait for darkness to fall so that they could begin exploring the night sky. There was no
moon that evening, so it would be a good chance to get better acquainted with the
constellations.
After dinner they went outside and got oriented to the sky. The child looked up and said,
“I see a constellation that looks like a man. He has a belt of three stars and two other
bright ones near an arm and a leg.”
“Yes, and if you look real close you might even see a sword hanging from his belt. Point
your telescope at it and tell me what you see.”
“It’s kind of hazy. There are some faint stars inside it. What is it?”
“It’s called the Great Nebula. Some new stars are actually being formed within it right
now.”
“New stars? Do stars get born all the time? Do they die?”
“Yep. Just like us. But they live a lot longer than we do.”
“I’d like to have my own star that I could watch and make sure it doesn’t die. Can I have
one?”
“Absolutely! Why don’t you look around and pick one out. Try to get a smaller one that
nobody else will notice. That way it can be your own star.”

“OK, I think I’ve got one. I can just barely see it without the telescope. Do you think
that it might even have planets going around it like we have here? I’ve been reading that
astronomers have found that some other stars actually do have planets, but the ones that
they know about are mostly not very good places to live.”
“Well, this one might have planets. Who knows, maybe even life.”
“Can I name my own star?”
“Of course.”
“OK, I’ll call it Sol. Thank you for the telescope! Let’s go back inside and have a nice
cold glass of ammonia to celebrate!”

Author’s note: This story takes place on a fictional planet orbiting Gamma Serpentis, an
F6-type star about 37 light-years from Earth. In stellar mythology, it’s in the head of the
giant serpent being held by Ophiuchus. From there, our tiny Sol would be only a fifth
magnitude star, lost among the multitude of many brighter ones.

The Great Nebula (M42) is about 1340 light-years away. Rigel and Betelgeuse are about
870 and 600, and the three belt stars 1200 to 2000. Orion should look much the same
from this planet as it does from Earth, but somewhat smaller. Sol should be several
degrees away from Rigel. For Star Trek fans, Gamma Serpentis was near the heart of
Federation space.

I’ve worked with liquid ammonia, which boils at about 33 degrees below zero Celsius
under local atmospheric pressure. Ammonia-based life forms have been hypothesized. A
1962 New Yorker cartoon showed a crashed alien thirsting for it in a desert.
Apologies to anyone who may have already written a story similar to this one.