The Importance Of Enjoying A Nice Cuppa As You Fall Down The Gravity Well Of A Boson Star

By Steven French

“Cup of tea?”

“Sorry?”

“Tea. A nice cuppa. Freshly brewed. You seem a bit distracted, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Tea. Yes please. Just a drop of milk, no sugar.”

“There y’go … So, what are we looking at then?”  Dave nodded toward the observation screen which spanned almost the entire length of the wall in front of them. 

Against a background of deep space, studded here and there with iridescent galaxies and the occasional shimmering gas cloud, it displayed, front and centre, a series of fiercely incandescent rings, which looked as if they’d been squashed by some giant hand, all circling a slightly off-centre but pitch-black central void. 

Julie raised her eyebrows and turned to face him, steaming mug in hand. “Ummm … sorry, but haven’t you been reading the Captain’s reports?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m just the cook. Well, glorified tea-boy right now. The only thing I read are the weekly ship’s menus!”

Taking a sip of tea before turning back to the screen, Julie sighed.

“That,” she said, pointing with the hand holding the mug, “is a boson star.”

“A what now?”

“Boson star. A star made up entirely of bosons.”

“Yeah, that’s not helping.”

Julie put the mug down on the counter and sighed.

“Ok, so, every particle in the universe, or at least every single one we’ve ever come across, turns out to be either a boson or a fermion.”

“Right. Gotcha. And those are …?”

Julie rapped on the countertop. “This,” she said, “this is made up of atoms and the electrons and protons and neutrons in those atoms – they’re all fermions. But photons, on the other hand,” and here she waved her hands toward the softly glowing light panels in the ceiling, “those are bosons.”

“And every particle is one or the other, you say?”

“Yup. Every single one. And most stars, well, pretty much all, are made up of fermions. Except for a rare few, which consist entirely of bosons.”

“Right,” said Dave again, obviously feeling he had to say something.

“And bosons, unlike fermions, tend to cluster together, if they can,” Julie continued, “Which means … well, the short story is that boson stars share some of the characteristics of black holes.”

Dave stepped back from the screen. “Seriously?”

Shaking her head, Julie said nothing, seemingly intent on finishing her tea. The silence dragged on as Dave stared at the image of the star. 

“But those rings, they look different,” he pointed out, moving back closer again.

“Yeah, that’s called the accretion disk and it’s different for boson stars. That’s how we were able to spot this one and knew right away it wasn’t actually a black hole.” 

She paused, before swallowing hard, and then added, “But what they do have in common is … well, massive gravitational pull.”

As if on cue, the ship shuddered and the mugs and flasks on Dave’s trolley rattled.

“When you say massive …” he said.

Julie didn’t reply but just sat there, staring at the slowly cooling mug on the table.

“Do you …” she began, then paused before trying again, “… do you ever think about, y’know, things back home?”

“Things?” Dave asked.

“Yeah, you know. Family, friends … Things.”

He shrugged. “Not really. I left all that behind when I signed up. Been a ship’s cook for as long as. So, this … well this is it for me … Home, that is.” He gestured round the room. As if in response, the ship groaned again. 

“Astro-Navigator Simmons to the command deck. Repeat, Simmons to command. … Immediately.” 

Dave looked at her. “That’s you, isn’t it?” 

Julie didn’t answer but got up and carefully placed her empty mug on the trolley. 

“I was due to get married when we got back,” she said.

“Well, you still can!” Dave exclaimed. “I’m sure she, or he, or whoever, will still be waiting. Love is strong, stronger than …,” he gestured towards the screen again, “stronger than gravity anyway.”

“How much time do you think has passed?” Julie abruptly asked, looking directly at him.

Dave frowned.  “Well, it’s only been a month or so since we came out of the transit wormhole.”

Julie nodded. “Not so long for us really. But for those we left behind …”

The tannoy suddenly blared again with the same message as before, although now with added urgency.

“See, time dilates as you go deeper into a gravity well, just like Einstein said,” she told him. “It kind of stretches. Not so noticeable when we’re making a fly-by around some regular star or whatever, but when it’s a monster like that one … “ 

She shook her head and closed her eyes, before recovering herself. 

“So although not that much time has passed for us, it’s already been, uhhhh, years, several in fact, for everyone we left behind.” 

Gripping the handle of the tea-trolley, Dave said, “So what you’re saying is, we’ve gone and fallen quite a long way down this thing’s gravity well.”

Julie nodded. 

“How far exactly?” he asked.

“I didn’t mean to …” she muttered, looking away.

“Too far to climb back out?” he pressed.

Julie looked back at him again. 

“I just wanted to be the first.”

Dave raised an eyebrow.

“To observe one up close,” she added.

Dave nodded and stared back up at the screen once more, as if only now seeing what awaited them.

“What are we going to do?!” Julie cried out, looking wildly around. “I messed up! What am I going to tell the Captain? I don’t know … I don’t…” She fell back into her chair and put her head in her hands.

Dave sighed and turned back to the tea trolley.

“Not much we can do, really, is there?” he said. “Except have another cuppa while it’s still hot.”

About the Author

Steven French is a  retired academic, living in West Yorkshire, U.K. and has had pieces published in various venues, including most recently AntipodeanSF, the anthology Oaths and Offerings and The Hoolet’s Nook.