Jean J. Somalwar

The center of a galaxy is a bustling metropolis where a giant black hole often snatches inattentive stars. But telescopes caught a flare in a quiet suburb, tens of thousands of light-years from the core. This gave away a wandering black hole — an invisible predator, flung out of the center after an ancient galaxy collision.

A distant lamp shines through uneven glass. The glass bends the rays, and instead of one flame on the wall, several appear — some brighter, some fainter. In much the same way, a massive galaxy bends the light of an exploded star. There was one explosion, but the images show four glowing points.

The cosmos is full of screams we can't hear. Every time a black hole tears a star apart, a blinding flash is born, and often — a narrow relativistic jet, shooting out thousands of light-years. But if that searchlight is aimed away from Earth, we see only a faint afterglow — a radio echo arriving with a delay.