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Science Weekly — 16th May 2065
Obituary: Professor Anthony Crowley
1974 - 2065
Professor Anthony Crowley has passed away aged 91. The renowned astrophysicist, author and broadcaster is notably remembered for his bestselling books, including ‘Astrophysics For Everyone’ (2004) and its sequels including ‘The Universe For Everyone’ (2008) and ‘Nebulas, Stars and Stardust For Everyone’ (2015). In his early career, Professor Crowley made his name in the academic world for his seminal research paper (1998) on the features and mapping of the Alpha Centauri star system. In later life, he collaborated with his husband Asa Fell (1975 - 2063) on creative endeavours, including the long-running favourite children’s educational-fiction audio series, ‘Stories From The Stars’ which the pair started as a podcast in 2029, and which went on to air on the BBC for almost 20 years.
Professor Crowley said in an interview last year to mark the 60th anniversary edition of his first book, that he “never truly thought of himself as retired”, but that he had been “enjoying some perpetual time-off”, in which he said he spent his time looking into his telescope from his cottage in the South Downs.
In commemoration, the very first episode of Stories From The Stars, “Driving at the speed of light”, will be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on Sunday at 6:45pm.
Aziraphale placed his pen down on his desk in his bookshop, and sat back to take a sip from his cocoa and read through the freshly inked words of his latest manuscript.
But just as he brought his cup to his lips, he felt a jolt run through him. Luckily he managed to stop cocoa spilling on his inked pages. He clutched his hand to his chest, as the familiar tingle ran from head to toe and back again to settle into his heart.
“Crowley,” he whispered.
He glanced towards the door as bright lights appeared and beamed through the glass windows; the distinct fluorescence of the Bentley’s headlights.
Aziraphale scooted his chair backward and stumbled to his feet, adjusting his bow tie. His hands jittered with anticipation, and his cheeks flushed pink when he heard the slam of the car door, followed by the jingle of the bell over the door as it swung open.
“Hello, Angel.”
“Oh!” Aziraphale gasped. He let out a slight sob and giggle both at once as he lifted his hand to cover his mouth. He took in the sight of his love; long legs, red hair, and characteristic black sunglasses. He blinked when he felt running over his fingers, a tear that had escaped and rolled down his cheek.
Within moments, Aziraphale was buried in Crowley’s chest, long arms wrapped tightly and holding him close.
“That was a good one, eh?” Crowley murmured, his hand sinking into the soft white hair of his angel.
His angel who was not technically an angel anymore, rather, some kind of unspecified eternal being. But to Crowley, the name would always stick.
“It was,” Aziraphale agreed, nodding, his face breaking into a proud grin as he stepped back a little and looked up into Crowley’s glinting eyes, softer now than when he was a demon but still tinted yellow. “Earth! And you taught the whole world about our universe, our star system, our nebula!”
“So did you,” Crowley said, letting Aziraphale take his hands in a tight grip.
“Oh what my little stories?” Aziraphale always tried to brush off his creations and endeavours, ever humble in his talents, but Crowley shushed him.
“Teaching children is just as important,” Crowley said, and his voice and tone sounded exactly like Anthony, even down to the hint of Scottish accent poking through.
“Okay, Professor,” Aziraphale said fondly. Oh, how much he’d loved Anthony, in this version of their life together.
He loved every mortal life they led of course, in every infinite version of themselves, which they’d been repeating in endless variety for billions of earth-years now. They’d spent lifetimes in many forms, in many worlds, some of them just as weird and wonderful as Asa Fell’s fantastical stories — but this recent life had been particularly special.
This time they’d been a bookseller and a space nerd, living in England, Earth, over the turn of the 20th century. Coincidence, perhaps — but they’d lived this life in a world that had been uncannily similar to that final Armageddon era of the old universe (only this time, sans heaven, sans hell).
And in the time since leaving that life, while he’d waited here in the bookshop for Crowley to return to him from that life, Aziraphale had wondered extensively on the chances of this occurrence. Not only that their lives would centre here, but how was it that so many incarnations of people they’d known and loved had also manifested in this time and space? Everyone from Nina and Maggie with their coffee-shop-record-store, to the unlikely celebrity philanthropist power couple Joshua and Adam.
Aziraphale didn’t like to think too hard on this coincidence… for it would perhaps imply slightly more influence from God in this universe than was strictly permitted in their founding agreement. But it had been nice to encounter familiar faces again, even if while down on earth, those faces had only been subconsciously familiar to their mortal selves.
“Come, see what I’ve been writing,” Aziraphale beckoned Crowley over to his desk.
Crowley strode over and leaned to look. He placed his hand on Aziraphale’s back as he did so, absentmindedly running it in circles, and smiled as he read the heading: ‘Stories From The Stars’.
“A wonderful library addition,” Crowley declared. He waved vaguely at the books on the shelves; once blank, but that Aziraphale had slowly been filling with words over the millennia during all the pockets of time spent here between their mortal lives.
Crowley stepped back and clicked his fingers. The gramophone clicked to life, and gentle jazz music started playing. “May I have this dance, Angel?” He asked, formally holding out his hand. His clothes had become more ruffly, Aziraphale noticed, and he looked down to see his own had changed to match.
Aziraphale stood and took Crowley’s hand to join him. And there they danced, for hours or days, neither knew — for time in the bookshop was a strange thing. It could feel like brief moments and endless forevers, all at once. But always when they shared this liminal space, they filled it with love.
And so they stayed dancing and writing and enjoying their time as us, until it was time for one of them to be born again. And when that happened, the other would know it would soon be their turn to join the same life, destined to find one another again in every new lifetime. It was inevitable.
Because to the best of their understanding, no other reincarnated souls had a place like this, their little bookshop was unique to them. Crowley theorised it was some kind of anchor for the infinite universe, and that the force that held them here was also what made up the ineffable stuff that somehow held this universe together. Aziraphale liked to think that this force was their love.
“Oh,” Aziraphale said with delight as he twirled and swung back into Crowley's arms, “It’s snowing!”