The Wrong Star at the Shallow End

The poster in the lobby of the Eastfield Community Pool had been hanging for three weeks. It promised something that Vik was no longer sure he could deliver. STAR VOYAGE, it said in curly letters across a painted ship. FLOAT ON YOUR BACK AND MEET VEGA. SEE A REAL STAR THROUGH A REAL TELESCOPE.

东原社区游泳池大堂里的那张海报已经贴了三个星期。它许下了一个维克不再确定自己能兑现的承诺。在一艘彩绘大船上方，用花体字写着：星际航行。仰面漂浮，邂逅织女星。透过真正的望远镜，看一颗真正的星星。

Children from the whole district came to the pool for lessons. On the first night of the month it was supposed to turn into a ship. The lights would go out. The roof panels would slide back. Twenty children in life jackets would lie on foam mats in the shallow end. Each would take a turn at the eyepiece on the deck. A neighbour had lent them the telescope. Vik had spent two evenings learning how it worked.

全区的孩子都来这个游泳池上课。在本月的第一个晚上，这里本该变成一艘大船。灯会熄灭，屋顶的天窗板会滑开。二十个穿着救生衣的孩子会躺在浅水区的泡沫垫上。每个孩子都要轮流去池边看目镜。望远镜是一位邻居借给他们的。维克花了两个晚上才学会怎么用。

At seven o'clock, with the first children already shivering happily on the tiles, he bent to the eyepiece to check the aim one last time. Then he straightened, and bent again.

七点钟，第一批孩子已经在瓷砖地上冷得又兴奋地发抖了。维克俯身在目镜上最后确认一次瞄准的方向。然后他直起身，又俯了下去。

"Wyn," he said quietly.

“温，”他轻声说。

Wyn was untangling a bundle of glowing wristbands on the other side of the deck. "Mm?"

温在池边另一头，正在解一堆缠在一起的发光手环。“嗯？”

"That is not Vega."

“那不是织女星。”

"It must be. We set it up this afternoon."

“不可能。我们下午刚调好的。”

"We set up the wrong knob." Vik stepped aside. "Look."

“我们拧错了旋钮。”维克让到一边。“你看。”

Wyn looked for a long time. When he lifted his head, he was frowning, but not in the way Vik had expected. "It is a double star," he said. "Two of them, very close together. One is gold, and the other is blue."

温看了很久。他抬起头时皱着眉，但不是维克预想的那种皱法。“是一颗双星，”他说，“两颗，靠得很近。一颗是金色的，另一颗是蓝色的。”

"They are lovely."

“真好看。”

"They are lovely and they are not Vega." Wyn wiped his hands on his shirt. "The base must have shifted when we carried it through the doorway. We are about forty degrees off."

“好看，可它们不是织女星。”温在衬衫上擦了擦手。“我们把它抬过门口的时候，底座一定是移位了。我们偏了大约四十度。”

For a minute neither of them said anything. Behind them, the children were giggling, and the water slapped softly against the gutters. Someone was singing a song about a whale.

有那么一分钟，两个人谁也没说话。他们身后，孩子们咯咯地笑着，水轻轻拍打着排水沟。有人在唱一首关于鲸鱼的歌。

"We can re-aim it," Vik said at last. "There is a finder scope. I could use the bright stars as markers and walk it back. It might take twenty minutes."

“我们可以重新对准，”维克终于说，“有一个寻星镜。我可以用那些亮星当路标，一点一点把它调回来。大概要二十分钟。”

"With twenty children getting cold."

“可二十个孩子要在那儿着凉。”

"They are in their life jackets. We could give them extra towels and a game while we work."

“他们穿着救生衣呢。我们可以在忙的时候多给他们几条毛巾，再带他们玩个游戏。”

"A game." Wyn considered it. "The promise on the poster is Vega, though. People brought them here for Vega. Some of the parents stayed to watch."

“游戏。”温考虑着。“可海报上承诺的是织女星啊。大家是为了织女星才把孩子带来的。有几位家长还留下来看呢。”

"I know," said Vik. "That is why I would fix it."

“我知道，”维克说，“所以我才想修好它。”

He knew he was right, in a way. A promise was a promise. A child who had been told about a famous blue-white star would feel cheated if she were shown something else, however pretty. But he also knew that twenty minutes of towels and games would feel very long to a child in wet clothes. The finder scope was stiff. He had never before walked a telescope across forty degrees of sky in the dark.

他知道从某种意义上说，自己是对的。承诺就是承诺。一个被告知会看到著名蓝白色恒星的孩子，要是看到别的东西，不管多漂亮，都会觉得上当。可他也知道，对一个穿着湿衣服的孩子来说，二十分钟的毛巾和游戏会显得很漫长。寻星镜很涩。他还从没在黑暗中把一台望远镜跨过四十度的天空挪回来过。

"Or," Wyn said, and then stopped.

“或者，”温说，然后停住了。

"Or what?"

“或者什么？”

"Or we show them what is actually there." Wyn glanced again at the eyepiece. "A double star is better than a single one, Vik. Anybody can see one point of light. Hardly anyone ever sees two colours in the same place."

“或者我们就让他们看眼前真正有的东西。”温又瞥了一眼目镜。“双星比单星更好，维克。随便谁都能看到一个光点。可几乎没人见过同一个地方有两种颜色。”

"We would have to tell them we made a mistake."

“那我们得告诉他们，我们搞错了。”

"We would. I think that is the interesting part."

“是得告诉。我觉得这恰恰是有意思的地方。”

Vik looked at the poster, then at the children. He pictured himself explaining the delay, the towels, the game, and the shaking hands on the dial. Then he pictured the opposite: twenty small faces turned toward the eyepiece, one after another, each finding the gold and the blue. He realised that he already knew which one he wanted to see.

维克看看海报，又看看孩子们。他想象自己解释拖延的原因，分发毛巾，带大家做游戏，手还在调节盘上发抖。然后他又想象另一幅画面：二十张小脸一个接一个凑向目镜，每个人都找到了那一点金色和那一点蓝色。他发现，自己已经知道想看到哪一幅了。

But he was not the kind of person who made a choice only because it was easy. He weighed it once more, and found the answer unchanged. A good ship's captain, he thought, did not pretend that the current had carried them to the planned harbour. A good captain said, we are here, and here is what we can see.

可他不是那种只因为容易就做出选择的人。他又掂量了一遍，答案没变。他想，一位好船长不会假装洋流把他们带到了原定的港口。好船长会说：我们到了这里，这是我们能看到的东西。

"We keep it," he said. "We keep the wrong star."

“就这样吧，”他说，“我们留着这颗错的星星。”

Wyn let out a long breath. "Good. I did not want to spend my evening turning a knob."

温长长地舒了口气。“太好了。我可不想一晚上都在拧旋钮。”

"You are a lazy man."

“你这个懒人。”

"I am a practical man. It is a different thing."

“我是个务实的人。这是两回事。”

Vik stood up, cleared his throat, and called for attention. The splashing stopped. Twenty round faces turned toward him in the dim light, and he felt his stomach tighten.

维克站起来，清了清嗓子，喊大家注意。水花声停了。昏暗的光线里，二十张圆圆的脸转向他，他感到胃里一紧。

"Crew," he said. "I have to confess something. The poster says Vega, and we aimed the telescope at the wrong star."

“船员们，”他说，“我要坦白一件事。海报上写的是织女星，可我们把望远镜对准了另一颗星。”

A small boy in the front sat up. "Is it broken?"

前排一个小男孩坐了起来。“它坏了吗？”

"No. It is working perfectly. We were the ones who made the mistake." Vik pointed at the eyepiece. "But look what it found. Whoever goes first gets to tell everyone else what they see."

“没有。它好得很。犯错的是我们。”维克指了指目镜。“可是看看它找到了什么。谁第一个看，就由谁告诉大家看到了什么。”

The boy rushed forward. He climbed onto the step stool, pressed his eye to the eyepiece, and went completely still.

男孩冲了上去。他爬上脚凳，把眼睛贴在目镜上，整个人一动不动。

"There are two," he said. "One is yellow like a lemon. The other is blue like the water."

“有两颗，”他说，“一颗像柠檬一样黄，另一颗像水一样蓝。”

"Two?" A girl splashed over to the side of the pool. "That is not allowed. A star is supposed to be one."

“两颗？”一个女孩踩着水游到池边。“这不行。一颗星星应该只有一颗。”

"Come and see," said the boy.

“你来看嘛，”男孩说。

They lined up in the dark, quiet now, passing the stool along. Each of them made a small sound of surprise when it was their turn. Wyn stood beside the telescope and answered questions in a low voice. Why were the stars different colours? Because they were different temperatures. Were they friends? Probably they were neighbours. Could you swim there? Not even in the deep end.

他们在黑暗里排好队，这时已经安静下来，把脚凳一个个传下去。轮到每个人时，都轻轻发出一声惊讶。温站在望远镜旁，压低声音回答问题。为什么星星颜色不一样？因为它们的温度不一样。它们是朋友吗？大概是邻居。能游到那儿去吗？就算在深水区也游不到。

When everyone had looked, Vik turned off the deck light, and the children lay back on their mats. The pool was dark except for the glow of the wristbands. High above, through the open roof, the two stars hung close together, a tiny gold spark and a tiny blue one. The whole ship seemed to rock very gently.

等每个人都看过了，维克关掉池边的灯，孩子们躺回垫子上。泳池里一片漆黑，只有手环在发光。高高的上方，透过敞开的屋顶，那两颗星星靠得很近地悬在那里，一颗小小的金色火花，一颗小小的蓝色火花。整艘大船似乎在轻轻摇晃。

"Which star is it, anyway?" a voice asked from the water. "What is its name?"

“那到底是哪颗星星？”水里有个声音问，“它叫什么名字？”

Wyn opened the chart on his tablet and ran a finger across the page. Then he ran it back. He tried another chart, enlarged the map, and checked the compass. Vik watched him pause over a patch of sky with nothing written on it.

温在平板电脑上打开星图，用手指划过页面，又划了回来。他换了一张星图，放大地图，核对了指南针。维克看着他在一片什么都没标注的天空上停住了。

"I do not know," Wyn admitted. He tilted the tablet so that Vik could see. "Do you?"

“我不知道，”温承认。他把平板倾斜过来，让维克也能看到。“你知道吗？”

Vik looked up. Just beside the pair, a third light was moving slowly, steadily, in a straight line across the dark. It was too faint to be a plane and too slow to be a falling star, and neither of them had a name for it.

维克抬头望去。就在那一对星星旁边，有第三个光点正缓慢而平稳地沿着一条直线划过黑暗。它太暗，不像飞机，又太慢，不像流星，他们两人都叫不出它的名字。

"Not yet," Vik said, and he picked up a pen to write it in the logbook.

“还不知道，”维克说着，拿起一支笔，把它记进航海日志里。