Authors: Karl Kofoed
A sudden flurry of activity in the room saved Alex having to ask if it was just a camera zoom. He could now see for himself that the strange igloo wasn’t just getting smaller, it was flattening as well, and starting to glow like the surrounding shell.
“Crystal growth, Commander,” said a voice on the intercom. “Just a guess.”
“Howarth?” said Stubbs, looking into the air. “Are you watching this?”
“Oh, yeah!” Matt Howarth, Alex knew, was in the Biolab. But like everyone aboard, his lab was linked, via the nearest wall monitor, to the control room. “Interesting the egg folk haven’t done something about the probe yet,” he added. “Wonder if they’ve detected it?”
“The bulge will be flat in less than two minutes ... well, one minute fifty one seconds,” said Mary. Everyone looked at her in surprise. She put a finger to her lips. “Sorry, it’s that pesky old calculator in me, I guess.”
“Sounds right,” said Stubbs. “The egg is healing. Soon, there won’t be a mark, I’d wager. Just like the first hole.” He was about to say more when the screen caught his eye. The shrinking had apparently stopped. “Has it stopped?”
“Yes,” said Mary. Everyone looked at her again. “As far as I can see,” she added with a shrug. But it was soon clear to everyone that the bump wasn’t changing, and for the next few minutes everyone, including those in the control room, watched in silence.
Watching the brilliant image was hard on Alex’s eyes. He looked away and noticed Mary gazing wide-eyed at the screen, her genetically enhanced eyes apparently unaffected by the glaring white on white image. Stubbs and Professor Baltadonis had put on dark glasses long ago. Stubbs’ glasses were provided by Johnny, who was carrying an extra pair.
Someone started shouting. “Look, look!”
“There’s a rod. A white rod, rising from the center of the bump,” Mary said.
Alex looked at the screen, squinting painfully. Johnny noticed and reached into his pocket. “Here, Alex, I have a spare set of sunglasses.”
“You do?” Alex looked at the Professor in surprise. “You just gave an extra set to Stubbs.”
Johnny laughed. “I carry three. With three you always have one.”
“If you say so, Johnny,” said Alex. “I’d call that taking preparedness to new heights.”
The glasses proved a bit small but workable. He could see the rod Mary had described. “Thanks, Professor.”
It was a cylindrical tube, rising slowly from the top of the bulge.
Silence again overtook the control room as something rose inside the rod, white and formless, filling the tube like a worm. Reaching the top of the cylindrical pipe, it rose a meter into the air and hung there for a moment, a wobbly white pillar on a glowing white plate.
Responding to a command from someone in the control room, the remote camera began to zoom in, revealing a head-like knob at the top that seemed to be structured of tightly ridged white material. The head began to swell and the ridges began to spread out. It happened slowly at first, but soon the thing blossomed into something resembling a large white flower.
“Like a white carnation in the snow. I guess you’re seeing this okay, or should I …?” Mary hugged Alex’s shoulder.
“I see fine,” said Alex. “What do you think?”
“It’s a scanner of some kind.”
The blossom now pointed directly at the camera. In its center was a black object that seemed to grow larger. Following another command, the camera reversed its zoom in time to see a snaking proboscis extrude from the flower. It writhed in the air for a few seconds, then drew back. All the while the carnation remained fixed in position, pointed directly at the
Goddard’s
remote camera-sensor module.
“I think we’re in trouble,” said Stubbs, ominously.
“It appears they’ve fixed the hole and included a doorway of some kind. It’s safe to say they just examined one of the two sondes,” offered Johnny. “The one with the cameras. The other sonde is just a locator and it’s not active at the moment.”
“The sonde’s emitting radio waves,” offered Sciarra. “Maybe they hear it.”
Stubbs put out his hand. “Computer,” the Commander said. “Connect to the control room.”
“
Ready
.”
“Captain Wysor, and the rest of you, watch closely. I think we’ve been noticed. Judging from the short time that thing took to examine our sonde, I’d say it’s fair to assume it can sense the radar. Any thoughts?” Everyone in the control room looked at Stubbs, but there was no response.
“If anything happens ...” he began, but movement on the big screen caused him to stop. The alien blossom began to rotate on its central stalk. “See that? It’s scanning our probe. I’m sure of it.”
“Any bets on how long our probe will last?” asked Johnny, smiling. His response drew a laugh from the control room.
“It’s back,” interrupted Stubbs, pointing at the screen. “Computer, lower these partitions,” he said. The transparent walls lowered instantly and Stubbs went to his station. “Can we send some kind of message in case it’s listening to our scans?” he asked, settling into his chair.
A technician stood up, adjusting the headphone in her curly blonde hair. “Lisa Thompson, comtech B, sir,” she said with a slight bow to the Commander. “We could modulate the sonde’s signal strength. That might get their attention and won’t interfere with its transmission.”
“Good plan. Do it, Lisa,” Stubbs said, never taking his eyes from the screen. “Convert the signal to something we can hear, so we have an idea how it sounds to them.”
“Yes, sir!” said Lisa, her hands already busy at the console as she sat down.
Moments later a wowing sound was heard on the control room speakers and, the strange rotating blossom began to spread its petals wider, apparently in response to the altered signal. Adding to that impression, its outstretched petals began to move back and forth in unison.
Mary smiled. “Like Inky’s ears when he hears something.”
“It’s a dish antenna,” said Tony, finishing off his cup of coffee. “Not so different from a cat’s ear, really.” He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “Something I’m curious about, Mary,” he said. “On Jupiter, your senses gave us some insights. Here you seem ...”
Mary frowned. “We’re on alien turf, Tony.”
“You sense nothing?” asked Connie, standing nearby listening to the conversation.
“No,” Mary answered. “Why that should be, I don’t know. Maybe it’s simply because the sources are alien.”
The flower on the screen stopped its slow flutter but the sound of the sonde’s oscillations remained unchanged. Stubbs asked Lisa if the signal could be made more interesting to the aliens.
“I don’t see how, Commander,” she replied. “Not without messing up our data stream.”
“I suppose it’s doubtful the alien can hear the data stream itself, correct?” asked Stubbs.
“Doubtful, I guess,” said the girl. She stood up again, out of respect for the Commander.
“You don’t have to stand, Thompson,” said Stubbs, smiling. “Sit down and ... oh, transmit some music to the probe.
Something, anything to hold their interest.”
The techie sat down again. Seconds later the sound of classical music replaced the monotonous signal on the loudspeakers. Everyone’s attention returned to the screen to see what the flower would do. The flower’s petals resumed their oscillation and sporadic applause spread through the control room.
“Good,” shouted the Commander above the music. “Good work.” Lisa didn’t look up from her console, but Alex saw her grinning broadly. “I’m wondering if we might try different types of music,” proposed the Commander. “Maybe rock and roll?”
“Rock and roll?” Johnny looked at Alex and shook his head. “How about just talking to it?”
Alex smiled and whispered. “He’s grasping at straws there, Johnny. Why don’t you help him out?”
Apparently emboldened by Alex’s suggestion, Professor Baltadonis walked over to Stubbs and whispered in his ear. The Commander nodded and turned back to the girl. “Lisa, can you patch voice into it?”
“Of course, sir.” Her fingers worked the console. “Whose microphone?”
“Mine, I suppose,” answered Stubbs. Stubbs looked around and smiled.
“Ready, sir,” said Lisa.
The Commander thought for a second, then spoke. “Greetings from the people of Earth to the people of Lalande. Please pardon our intrusion into your world, but assure you it was not done with hostile intentions.” The Commander continued his dialogue, describing the ship and its mission, but the strange flower’s behavior remained unchanged. Its curving white petals moved slowly back and forth while its central stalk remained rigid.
Alex looked at Mary and whispered skeptically, “I’m sure it’s getting EVERY word.”
She wrinkled her perfect nose at him. “Well, what would YOU say to it?”
Alex shrugged. “I’d keep playing music.”
Mary nodded, as she studied the image on the viewscreen. “Well, at least it’s still listening.”
3
When the Commander finished his ‘greetings from Earth’ speech it was followed by sporadic applause from some of the staff.
Stubbs raised his arms, smiling. “I’m sure all of you realize that this was hardly a scientific exercise. And I scarcely think my words were understood.” He glanced at the screen. “But, as we can see, our carnation hasn’t lost interest. At least it’s still there and its vanes are still oscillating.” Stubbs cleared his throat. “We still have the sonde and we still have that thing’s attention. The question is, what do we do about it?”
Something had been bothering Alex and now he realized what it was. He stood up and raised his hand.
“Yes, Alex?” said Stubbs.
“Are there microphones aboard that probe?”
Stubbs looked around. “Microphones? I suppose...”
“I’m wondering if that thing is making noises,” explained Alex. “And if we could listen to it.”
“Does anyone have an answer?” The Commander searched the blank faces around him.
A male voice spoke up weakly from the rear of the control room. “We’re checking, sir.”
“Raise your hand. Name, please?” demanded Stubbs, squinting in the direction of the voice.
A young man with slick black hair tied in a ponytail stood up. He was wearing a partial helmet whose wires snagged on his desk as tried to stand. He removed the headset and tossed it on his console. “Wiggins, sir. Audio engineering. The sonde you left on the egg is a Fulmer A12. They’re equipped for full spectrum detection. Some of the A12s don’t, since they left off the sound sensors because, well, the moons don’t have air and …”
“Can you activate the microphone, Wiggins?”
“Well, yes ... certainly, sir. I mean, I’m on it.” The man vanished behind his console. “I’ll patch in the sound as soon as it’s linked.”
“That was a good suggestion,” said Stubbs, looking back at Alex.
Alex’s suggestion wasn’t really inspiration. Since discovering the reef of life in Jupiter’s Great Red Spot and visiting it three times, he had come to appreciate how much sound played a part in its ecology. Why should it be any different with Bubba’s creatures?
Mary cocked her ear toward the speaker. “He won’t like this.”
“What?” said Alex.
Suddenly the room filled with the abrasive sound of radio static. “That!” shouted Mary.
Wiggins scrambled to lower the volume. “I’m sorry, Commander,” said the technician, “I should have expected the static would be loud.”
Stubbs looked at Wiggins in surprise. “Why’s that?”
“There’s a vibration in that glowing stuff. It’s caused by a charge of some kind. The sonde is insulated from the charge but the vibration is picked up through the microphone.”
“Can you phase it out?” asked Sciarra, standing up. “Mask the frequency?”
The technician was quiet for a moment, while he worked his console. “Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s try that again.”
Mary heard the sound first. Alex could tell because she cocked an ear toward the loudspeaker above them. Soon everyone heard it.
“That sounds like the whistling of wind,” said Commander Stubbs. “Am I right?”
“Sounds like it t’ me,” answered Captain Wysor. “Wind in th’ pickup. Can ya’ filter the wind, too?”
“Negative, sir.” Wiggins stood up to see the Captain. “Wind is white noise ... all frequencies.”
“I can,” said Mary quietly.
Alex frowned. “Really? Do you hear anything?”
“Clicking.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “You mean like the clicker men on Jupiter?”
“More complex than that. Chirps more than clicks, really. Can anyone else hear them?”
By now the Commander had heard Mary and his interest were piqued. “Did I hear you correctly, Mary?”
Mary nodded. “Sound analysis can pick it up. It’s almost completely masked by the wind. That’s why you can’t hear it. It sounds like birds, sort of.”
Still looming on the control room’s huge rectangular screen was the alien flower. Its petaled head, nearly as white as its surroundings, remained bowed in the direction of the distant camera. “What’s the wind speed down there?” asked Professor Baltadonis.
A technician shouted out, “Sixty to seventy knots, sir. Fairly steady.”
Stubbs stood again, facing the screen. “It that thing upwind or downwind of the probe?”
There was mumbling among the crew, then one of them stood and faced the Commander. “Neither, sir,” said the man.
“It’s a fifteen degree cross wind.”
Johnny nodded. Taking out a small datastrator he began to draw a crude diagram for himself. “I don’t see how the flower can hear anything in that gale,” he concluded after studying it for a while. “There’s a cross wind, so smell can be ruled out.”
He smiled at Alex. “And gale force winds would pretty much obscure any polka music.”
Alex shrugged. “If Mary can hear that thing, then there’s a possibility they can hear us.”
Stubbs looked skeptical. “Well, we’ll have to analyze it.”
Wysor shook his head and stood up. “If ya’ won’ be needing this useless sack o’ bone, I’ll walks to the head. So how much longer will this show be playin’?”
Standing like an instructor at a chalkboard, Stubbs turned and smiled. “As long as it takes. We have to consider what all this means and what Earthcorp would have us do.”