The young man buys a ticket and wanders around the exhibit on the history of the spacesuit before disappearing. It takes more than forty minutes before the observatory volunteers find him locked in the Clark Telescope Dome. He refuses to come out.
The man demands to know why he can’t see Saturn through the telescope’s eyepiece. He doesn’t believe them when they explain through the closed door that the rotation of the Earth has shifted the planet out of the telescope’s field of view. They offer to come inside and reposition the telescope for him. He tells them that he is not a fool. That he will wait.
“I want to see her fly through Saturn’s rings on her way out.” He says this three times in quick succession. They assure him that they understand, but exchange worried glances.
The volunteers fetch the astronomer who is about to leave for Happy Jack to watch an alien world transit in front of its star five hundred light years away.
“This planet is in a highly elliptical orbit,” he tells them, dropping a bottle of bourbon into the passenger seat of his hatchback. “It may not cross the plane of the star again in my lifetime.”