Far-Seer

“That’s what Keenir claimed, too, when I asked him about it.” Dybo yawned. “It still doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It was my idea,” Afsan said. “The world is round.”

“Suck eggs,” said Dybo.

“No, it really is.”

Dybo’s dark eyes rolled. “You’re getting too much sun.”

Afsan clicked his teeth. “No, I’m not. The whole world is a ball, a sphere.”

Dybo’s tail, sticking up like a rubbery mast, bounced with glee. “A ball? Be serious.”

“I am serious. I’m convinced of it, and Keenir is convinced of it now, too.”

“What makes you think the world is round?”

“The things I’ve seen on this voyage, both with my own eyes and through the far-seer.”

“And what have you seen?”

“The moons are worlds, too—with mountains and valleys. The planets are more than just points of light in the night sky. They, too, are spheres, and at least some of them go through phases just as the moons do. Some of the planets are accompanied by their own moons. The Face of God is a sphere, and it does not glow on its own but shines by reflected light from the sun.”

Dybo looked dubious. “All of that is true?”

“All of it. I’ll show you tonight, if you like.”

“And you’ve made sense of this jumble of observations?”

“I think so, yes. Look, discounting the stars, which are dim and far away—”

“The stars are far away? I thought everything in the sky moved across the same celestial sphere.”

“Forget what you think you know, my friend. Hear me out. Discounting the stars, which are dim and far away, there is only one true source of light in the sky.” Afsan flicked his tail toward the hot white orb near the zenith, although neither he nor Dybo could actually see the gesture from their recumbent positions. “The sun.”

Dybo’s tone conveyed a willingness to go along with the joke. “All right.”

“And moving around the sun in circular paths are the planets. The ones that appear to never get far from the sun in the sky are in fact the closest to it. In order out from the sun, we have Carpel, Patpel, Davpel, Kevpel, Bripel, and Gefpel.” He paused. “Although having seen so many additional points of light in the night sky with the far-seer, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are other planets so dim that we’ve yet to observe them. Anyway, of these planets, the four innermost—Carpel, Patpel, Davpel, and Kevpel—go through phases, just as the moons do.”

“Wait a beat,” said Dybo. “You can’t know that; even I know that Patpel hasn’t been visible during our voyage.”

“You’re right; I’m assuming it goes through phases. I know from my astrology books that it gets farther from the sun than Carpel does, but not as far as Davpel. From my observations, all of the inner planets that I have seen do go through phases, so it makes sense that the one I can’t see does, too.”

“Why does that make sense?”

“Can’t you see?” said Afsan. “It just does.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Can I finish what I was saying?”

Dybo’s stomach rumbled softly. “Very well,” he said, but his tone was weary, as though to convey that the punch line of the joke better be awfully good.

“Now, the outer two, Bripel and Gefpel, don’t go through phases"—Afsan held up a hand to forestall Dybo’s objection. “Yes, I know Gefpel hasn’t been visible during our voyage, either, but again I’m assuming.”

Dybo harumphed.

“So you see,” said Afsan, “that makes sense. The objects closer to the sun than we are show phases; those farther away do not.”

“I don’t see that at all.”

Mist washed over Afsan’s back as the Dasheter rolled on a large wave. “Well, look, you’ve sat around a fire at night, no? To keep warm?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you must at some time have sat somewhere neither near nor far from the fire. Some people were sitting closer; others, farther away.”

“I’m the prince,” said Dybo. “I usually sit in front.”

“Of course, of course. But you can imagine what I’m describing. Now, I’m not saying you’re all lined up on one side of the fire. Rather, simply that the distance between you and the fire is, say, five paces. The distance between someone else and the fire, partway around a circle from you, is four paces, and another person, at a different angle to you, is six paces from the fire. Well, if you look at the person closer to the fire than you, he or she will only be partially illuminated. Depending on where they are sitting, perhaps just half their muzzle will be in the light from your perspective. But the fellow farther away from the flames than you, no matter where he’s sitting, will seem to be entirely illuminated.”

“But he can’t be—obviously half of his head must be in darkness, too.”

“Exactly! But from your point of view, he’s fully lit up—it doesn’t matter whether he’s behind you or opposite you; he’s still completely illuminated—unless of course he is in your own shadow.”

“Yes,” said Dybo, who had closed his eyes for a moment. “I can picture that.”