The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year - Volume Eight by Jonathan Strahan [Editor] Page B

Rosary to pass on his thanks.
    Rosary began to recite again. "I am asked by Tycho Brahe to say how impress-ed with your work. Sir. To describe the universe as infinite with mathematical argument!" His English sputtered and died. "Is a big thing. We are all so amuzed."
    "Forgive me," said the young man. "Is it the universe or the argument that is infinite?"
    "Guy," warned Digges in a sing-song voice. He pronounced it with a hard "G" and a long eeee.
    "And is it the universe or the numbers that are amusing?"
    Mr. Rosary paused, understood, and grinned. "The two. Both."
    "We disagree on matters of orbitals," said Squire Digges.
    Vesuvius leaned back, steepling his fingers; his nails were clean and filed. "A sun that is the circumference of Terra." He sketched with his finger a huge circle and shook his head.
    Almost under his breath the young man said, "A sonne can be larger than his father."
    Digges explained. "My young friend is a poet."
    Vesuvius smiled. "I look forward to him entertaining us later." Then he ventriloquized in Danish, " And until then, he might eat with the servants ."
    Mr. Rosary looked too pleased to care and beamed at Digges. "You… have… lens."
    Digges boomed. "Yes! Yes! On roof." He pointed. " Stierne. Stierne ."
    Rosary laughed and nodded. "Yes! Stierne! Star."
    "Roof. We go to roof." Squire Digges mimed walking with his two fingers. Blank looks, so he wiped out his gesture with a wave.
    Vesuvius translated with confidence. " No stars tonight, too cloudy."
    "No stars," said Mr. Rosary, as if someone's cat had died.
    "Yes." Digges looked confused. " Stierne . On roof."
    Everything stalled: words, hands, mouths and feet. Nobody understood.
    Young Guy made a sound like bells, many of them, as if bluebells rang. His fingers tinkled across an arch that was meant to be the Firmament. Then his two flat hands became lenses and his arms mechanical supports that squeedled as they lined up his palms.
    Goldenstar gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. " What the hell is he doing ?"
    Vesuvius: " I told you they have to mime everything ."
    " No wonder that they are good with numbers. They can't use words!"
    " It's why there will never be a great poet in English ."
    Rosary suddenly rocked in recognition. He too mimed the mechanical device with its lenses. He twinkled at young Guy. Young Guy twinkled back.
    "Act-or," explained Digges. "Tra-la! Stage. But poet. Oh! Such good poet. New poem. Venus and Adonis!" He kissed the tips of his fingers. Vesuvius's eyes, heavy and unmoved, rested on his host.
    "Poet. Awww," Rosary said in sympathy. "No numbers."
    John Dee, back erect, sipped his wine.
    Bessie entered, rattling plates and knives in terror. Goldenstar growled, and his hands rounded in the air the curvature of her buttocks. She noticed and fled, soles flapping, polishing no more.
    The Squire poured more wine. "Now. I want to hear more of your great relation, Lord Tycho. I yearn to visit him. He lives on an island? Devoted to philosophy!" He pronounced the name as "Tie-koh."
    Vesuvius corrected him. "Teej-hhho."
    "Yes, Tycho."
    "The island is called Hven . You should be able to remember it as it is the same word as 'haven.' It is called in Greek Uraniborg. Urania means study of stars. Perhaps you know that?"
    Digges's face stiffened. "I do read Greek."
    Rosary beamed at Guy. "Your name Gee. In Greek is Earth."
    Guy laughed. "Is it? Heaven and Earth. And I was born Taurus." He waited for a response. "Earth sign?" He looked at them all in turn. "You are all astrologers?"
    Dr. Dee said, "No."
    "And your name," said Guy, turning suddenly on the translator as if pulling a blade. "You are called Vesuvius?"
    "A pseudonym, Guy," said Digges. "Something to hide. A nom de plume ."
    "What's that?"
    "French," growled Vesuvius. "A language."
    Rosary thought that was a signal to change languages, and certainly the subject. " Mon cousin a un nez d'or ."
    Squire Digges jumped in to translate ahead of Vesuvius. "Your cousin has