Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) Read Free

scholarship. Elena was proud to be a part of that tradition, and that was why she was feeling depressed.
    In recent years the Italian economy had been terrible, the nation barely able to avoid defaulting on its financial obligations. Since Italy’s universities were all state run, with students paying little or nothing to attend, the University had fallen on hard times. And though she loved her job, both the research and the teaching, there was no possibility that she would ever become a tenured full professor in the foreseeable future.
    Not that prospects for astronomy professors were good anywhere in Europe these days. She should have made a move several years back, when she was something of a minor celebrity. Standing five foot nine in three inch stiletto heals and partial to short cut, clingy dresses, Elena did not look like a typical astronomer. With a tawny main of thick unruly hair, deeply tanned olive skin and blazing dark eyes, Elena more closely fit the image of an Italian starlet—at least she did a decade ago.
    At that time she was the host of a science show on Italian TV called Cacciatori di Stelle, the Star Hunter. While she was trying to promote astronomy, the network was trying to make science sexy, and for a while it had worked. But nothing lasts forever, and once the novelty of a smart woman in a real short skirt wore off the ratings plummeted. Still, it had been an intoxicating experience. Now nearing the end of her fourth decade, Elena could still stop men in their tracks when wearing a skimpy bathing suit. But she had no illusions, time and nature affected everything and everyone—even stars grow old and die. 
    Elena’s building funk was interrupted by a lively Baroque tune from her cellphone. The snippet of Scarlatti ended abruptly as she answered the call, “Departimento di Astronomia, Professore Piscopia.”
    “Dr. Elena Piscopia?”
    “Si?” Then, realizing that the caller had a foreign accent she switched to English. “Can I help you?”
    “Yes, hello Elena. This is Rajiv Gupta. You may remember me from CERN two summers ago.”
    Two years ago Elena attended a month long workshop at the CERN Laboratory, which sits astride the Franco–Swiss border near Geneva. Also visiting, but for a different program, was Dr. Gupta, a renown particle physicist from America. Their paths had crossed at a number of social functions held by the Lab.
    “Si, ciao Rajiv, how have you been?” She could not recall what institution he was with or where he was from in the U.S., limiting her conversational response. Moreover, she could not think of a reason for him to be calling her, though they were both physicists they worked in different fields.
    “Good to speak with you as well, Elena,” the mysterious scientist continued. “I was wondering if you would be attending the conference in Melbourne next week?”
    “Melbourne? Australia?” she replied, even more confused.
    “Yes, I was hoping to talk with you there, if you were going to be in attendance. I have a line on some work that is right down your alley.”
    “ Vi chiedo scusa? I beg your pardon? Down my what?” 
    “Oh, I’m so sorry, American slang. I have an opportunity that you might be interested in and it appears to be a good fit with your areas of expertise and recent research. Specifically, the search for habitable exosolar planets.”
    Ah, now that made more sense, Elena thought, much of her recent work had centered on detecting potentially habitable worlds circling other stars. “Really? What type of work would it be? Consulting, a visiting scholar position?” Or possibly a longer-term opening? She pleaded silently. Would that be too much to ask for?  
    “The project is a long-term one, but we could use your expertise on whatever terms you could offer. It really is too complicated to describe over the phone, which is why I was hoping to see you at the conference. I can say that we have some top notch people and a unique observation