The Long Sunset

by Jack McDevitt

  “It’s the same one Korquit speaks, right?” said Hutch.

  “Yes. Something else,” Barry said. “I’ve acquired their numbering system. It’s based on eight rather than ten. That’s not a surprise. They have only eight digits. Which means that if we do any counting, ten will be eight and thirty-six will be thirty. And so on.”

  • • •

  Barry took another hour to go through the intercepts. Then he announced he was ready to proceed. “Tell them we’re just here to say hello,” said Derek.

  “Is it okay to let them know we’ve been to the ice world?”

  “Sure. If they ask.”

  “All right. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Let’s do it,” said Derek. All five of the humans pulled headphones over their ears. The AI would translate the alien responses.

  “Barry,” Derek said, “put us on 33.7 megahertz.” The speaker came alive with static. Two voices were discernible through the interference. “That doesn’t sound much like an operational unit.”

  “Jiggle it a bit,” Hutch said.

  Barry did. The static subsided.

  Barry switched to transmit and began speaking in the alien language. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully. And he provided the English version simultaneously. “Greetings. We are visitors from another place. We wish to say hello.”

  Nothing came back. He tried again. “Greetings. We are visitors from another place. Is anyone there?”

  Silence reigned.

  “They are not responding,” said Barry.

  Derek rolled his eyes. “Hutch, your AI is a master at stating the obvious.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Hutch. “We have the wrong frequency.”

  “How do you mean? This is the one—”

  “Remember? They only have eight fingers.” She scribbled some numbers on a pad. “Try 26.9.”

  Barry made the change. And they answered. “They are saying they can’t understand us. Who are we? Who’s calling?”

  “Say hello to them, Barry.”

  He did. Then: “They’ve been watching us. They’re asking if we’re on the vehicle that’s been waiting offworld for the last few—somethings. Do you wish me to answer?”

  “Yes. Tell them yes, that it’s us.”

  “I think she is female, but I cannot be certain. She is becoming difficult to understand. I believe she is screaming at someone. Not at me, but someone who is with her. Now she is screaming at me. Telling me not to get off the circuit. I think she is having a stroke. She is gone. Wait, I hear movement. More talking. A new voice.

  “It’s saying hello. This one also seems uncertain. Identifies itself as Shalon Kobay. I can’t tell whether that is a name or a title. But he’s saying welcome. He wishes to know our intentions. Do we want to come to ground? I assume he means to land.”

  “Tell him yes.”

  They listened to the response. “He says they will send a tracking signal. We should follow it in.”

  • • •

  “Well done, Barry,” said Hutch.

  “Captain, thank you.”

  Beth was smiling. “Not sure what we’d do without him.”

  “He’s good. Barry?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Transfer everything you have on the language to Tasha.”

  Derek got out of his seat. “I’m going down to talk with her. With Tasha. Give me some time. I’ll call you when I’m ready to go.”

  “I’d like to go too,” said Ken.

  Derek frowned. “Not a good idea. We don’t know anything about these guys. They sound okay, but they’re not Volarians. And they have fangs. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  They went back and forth for a couple of minutes before Ken gave in. “Okay,” he said, finally. He wasn’t happy about it, but Beth had been sending signals that she wouldn’t want him to go without her. “But I can’t see that there’s anything to worry about.”

  Derek had just left the passenger cabin when Barry announced that he was receiving the tracking signal.

  ARCHIVE

  Walter Esmeraldo’s Log

  I’d expected aliens to be seriously different. The only ones we’ve seen that really rattled my cage were the Mantises. I’m glad we didn’t have any reason to try to go down to say hello to them.

  —Saturday, August 16, 2256

  33.

  The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet. He is supported on crutches, but lacks so much support of muscle. He has a fine Geneva watch, but he fails of the skill to tell the hour by the sun.

  —Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance,” 1841

  Derek and Hutch took the lander through the night and into a dawn riddled with storm clouds and a near-torrential rain. The voice spoke to them again, with Tasha’s translation posted on the display: “I am Shalon. My regrets. I should have thought about the weather conditions before recommending this. If you wish to postpone and return to your ship until later, I will understand.”

  Derek gave Tasha their response: “It’s not a problem, Shalon. If you wish to postpone the meeting, we can wait. Or we can do it this evening. Whatever you prefer.”

  “If you are certain it will not inconvenience you, then let us continue. We look forward to seeing you.”

  They continued across a wide forest and emerged over a cluster of buildings and houses whose design and layout caused Ken to comment from the Eiferman that they might have been the product of Leonardo da Vinci. They had onion domes and spires and cornices and a wide range of arches and abutments. None appeared to be more than a few stories tall. Vehicles moved through the streets, and an aircraft was rising into the rain from a facility on the edge of the city.

  The aircraft caught Derek’s attention. “It’s antigravity.”

  “If they’ve been around as long as we think,” said Hutch, “I’d be surprised if they didn’t have it.”

  “Is that where we’re landing?” he asked.

  “I think so.” There were a terminal and three other buildings, one shaped like an open-ended donut. “They’ve got some stuff pulling in.” Black cars. There were two of them on the ground. Three or four more were arriving.

  Derek looked hesitant. “I guess Shalon has come to say hello.”

  “Or take us out,” said Hutch. “We sure we want to do this?”

  “If we don’t, we’re feeding Arin and everyone else to the black hole. This might be the only chance they have. Anyhow, it’s probably just a security measure. Let’s relax.” They fit themselves with ear pods so they could hear Tasha’s translations. Derek had prepared Tasha for the meeting, explaining where the discussion would probably go, the topics that were likely to surface, and how she should represent him. Hopefully, he’d be able to follow the conversation and, if need be, intervene and provide a response for Tasha.

  She broke in: “Shalon Kobay calling.” Tasha switched to a different voice and translated Shalon: “You will be coming in on the—” She stopped and returned to her normal tone, describing what she was hearing: “Shalon is trying to signify a direction, but I cannot pin it down.”

  Hutch gave Tasha an instruction which she relayed: “Can you blink a light to signify where you want us to land?”

  “Understood. Also, we have stopped all air traffic.”

  Hutch acknowledged. A set of lights near the terminal came on and began to flicker.

  Shalon came back: “I am in one of the black cars, which I am sure you can see. They will form a circle. Come down in the center of the circle. May I ask where your journey originated?”

  Tasha responded with a prepared answer: “We are from a world much like this one. But very far.”

  “We are extremely excited,” said Shalon. “Nothing like this has ever happened here before.”

  The cars formed a ring on the landing field. Doors opened and the occupants climbed out. At first, Hutch thought they were in dark uniforms, but as they got closer, she realized they were simply
dark clothes. With one exception: One set of garments consisted of a red jacket and gray slacks. She was relieved to see no weapons. They were all looking up at the incoming lander. Historic moment for them. For everybody.

  “Going in, Derek,” she said.

  She descended gently among the vehicles, touched down, and shut off the engine. “Hutch.” Derek’s voice sounded intense. “Stay with the lander. I’ll close the hatch when I leave. If there’s any kind of issue out there, get this thing off the ground.” He pulled a commlink out of his pocket.

  “Wait a minute. I didn’t know—”

  “No argument. Just do as I ask.” He released his belt, got up, activated the commlink, and looped it around his neck. It transmitted a picture of the airlock to the display. “Stay tuned.” He left the cabin and closed the hatch.

  Hutch relayed everything to the Eiferman. She saw no expressions on the faces of the escorts. At least, nothing she could read. The red jacket took center stage and came forward with one hand raised in greeting. The others remained at a distance. Derek raised his own hand and Tasha said, “Hello, Shalon.”

  The creature in the red jacket stood halfway between the lander and the car. He was unquestionably of the same species depicted by the ice world statue. He had long, pointed ears, grass-colored scabrous skin, and his mouth was wide, lending a vaguely ominous quality to his smile. “Greetings,” he said. “Welcome to Tarka.”

  Tasha responded: “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. This is Derek Blanchard. I am speaking for him.”

  “I am Shalon Kobay, and I am pleased to have the good fortune to meet you, Derek Blanchard. And Tasha, who, I assume is an automated intelligence.”

  “That is correct,” said Tasha.

  They walked back to the car, and Shalon held a door open, inviting Derek to get in. He did, and his host joined him. Along with one of the black suits. As far as Hutch could see, there was no one else in the car. And no driver. The car was automated. “This is a moment of considerable significance,” Shalon said.

  Derek signaled Tasha that he would speak for himself, and that the AI would translate his remarks. “Shalon, we appreciate your willingness to invite us to join you.”

  “I am happy to have the opportunity, Derek Blanchard. I have wondered all my life what it would be like to meet someone from another world.” Hutch heard a sound that was probably laughter. That might have been prompted by the fact that the conversation had necessarily slowed down, allowing time for Tasha to manage the translations for both sides. “I feel as if I am living in a piece of fiction.”

  “Call me Derek, please. And is that really so? Have you never before spoken with someone from another world?”

  “Of course not.” The car started its engine and the black suits got into their vehicles. “Why would you ask? This is the first time we have met anyone like you. And please do not take offense.”

  “That’s odd,” Hutch said.

  “What is?” Wally’s voice.

  “Nothing. Just some lightning.” She’d been watching the black suits move. There was a high level of synchronization among them. They all walked the same way, turned their heads in the same manner, and used an identical approach to getting back in their cars. The things were robots. But she didn’t want to say that into an open mike.

  The car turned and started back toward the terminal. The other vehicles followed.

  Shalon’s eyes fastened on the commlink that hung around Derek’s neck. His irises were vertical slits, not like those of an eagle, as had been her impression from the ice world statue, but more like a crocodile’s. He obviously understood the purpose of the device. In fact, Hutch got the sense he was looking directly at her.

  They pulled up at the terminal entrance. The escort remained in the vehicle while Shalon and Derek got out and went through a very ordinary set of double doors that opened as they approached. Hutch saw no movement inside.

  They rode an elevator up several floors, exited into a corridor, turned a corner, and entered an office. It was beautifully furnished with a thick carpet, a lavish sofa, three cushioned chairs, and a glittering, dark desk. A framed photo that might have been Shalon hung between two windows. He waited until Derek was seated before settling onto the sofa. The windows looked out over the spaceport, but Hutch could not see the lander.

  “I hope you’re comfortable,” Shalon said. The fangs were momentarily visible. Nevertheless, he projected an ease of manner that allowed Hutch to lose some of the concern she’d felt when Derek got into the car with him. The red jacket was gone, dropped casually on top of the desk. He was wearing a light blue shirt with something imprinted across it in white characters. Despite everything, he appeared amiable. Hutch wondered how he managed it.

  “I’m fine,” said Derek, who was probably doing his best to look at ease.

  Something dinged, and Shalon asked to be excused for a moment. He opened a phone line, spoke into it, used a few terms that Tasha admitted she could not translate, and finally said, “Our guest is here.” A brief exchange followed, which Tasha was also unable to get. Then Shalon clicked off and looked at his visitor with obvious satisfaction. “The leader will get back to us shortly. He is anxious to meet you.”

  Tasha commented that the “leader” term was unfamiliar to her, and it could be simply Shalon’s boss or possibly even a president.

  Then Wally was on the circuit again: “What do you think, Hutch?”

  “I think there’s a fair chance that we’re not the only ones tuned in to this conversation. We have an advantage that they probably don’t understand English unless the AI on the moon was playing us. Let’s just hold off for now.”

  • • •

  “In our entire recorded history, we have never before received visitors. This is truly a remarkable moment.”

  “For us as well, Shalon. I should inform you we’ve been to your other world. The one that was devastated thousands of years ago.”

  Shalon’s brow wrinkled. “What other world? I do not understand you.”

  “I don’t know its name. But we were on a world that apparently belonged to your people a long time ago.”

  He seemed overwhelmed and needed a moment to gather himself. “I am sorry, but are you talking about one of the other planets in this system?”

  “No. It is several light-years away. We found—” He stopped in midsentence, realizing that a light-year might be an unfamiliar term, and in any case, depending on the length of their year, a different distance. “It was in a different star system.”

  “I have no idea what we are speaking of. This is the only world which we’ve inhabited. In the distant past, we established stations and even a colony in this planetary system, but that has been the extent of our reach.”

  “That is strange, Shalon.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “On the world that I’m talking about, there is a statue in front of one of the buildings.” Derek had to be smiling. “It is one of your people.”

  Shalon’s eyes took on a tolerant gaze. “If you say so. I wish I could have been there with you.”

  “How far back does your history go?”

  “The first cultures we know of appeared several thousand years ago.” Shalon rearranged himself in his seat. “How old is your culture?”

  “About the same.” Derek cleared his throat. “Have you any legends, myths, about how everything started?”

  “We do. At one time, according to the sacred texts, we lived on an island. There is much debate about its location. Even which ocean it was in. There was an eruption of some sort and the island began to sink.”

  “And what happened then?”

  Shalon laughed. “The gods came in and saved us. But let’s move on to more significant matters.”

  “Of course. Tell me, do you have the technology that would allow you to travel to other stars?”

  “Not any longer. We haven’t had that kind of capability for a long time. Haven’t for generations.”
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  Again Tasha spoke to Hutch: “I made up ‘generations.’ Not familiar with the term he used. It could have been ‘centuries’ or ‘ages.’ ”

  “What happened?” asked Derek. He sounded surprised.

  “I’m not sure.” Shalon looked confused. It was an unsettling moment. “But it was during the imperial ages. If you’re thinking we came originally from another star, had that kind of technology, and then lost it all, that simply doesn’t stand with the facts. We’ve only had electricity for a thousand years.”

  “But the island—”

  “Adjuban is a myth. Obviously.”

  “Adjuban is the island?”

  “Yes.”

  For a long moment, both were silent. “Do you,” said Derek, “know any details about them? About the gods in the story?”

  Shalon was smiling again. “Not really. We have legends, but they contradict one another.”

  “Shalon, do you know about the black hole?”

  “What is a black hole?”

  “A collapsed star. So heavy it rips apart anything it gets close to.”

  “You mean a destroyer? Yes, of course we know about those. There’s one now not so far. Fortunately, it’s not headed in our direction.”

  “That’s the one I was referring to.”

  “Oh yes. Of course. Is that what you call it? A black hole?”

  “Yes.”

  “An intriguing name for a cloud with teeth.” Tasha broke in to explain that “cloud with teeth” was the best translation she could manage.

  “How does it happen you no longer have interstellar vehicles?”

  “We lost them centuries ago. We decided, apparently, that we had no use for them. As a result”—he shrugged—“they’re gone.”

  “You of all people,” said Derek.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s okay. Let it go.”

  “I would not have planned it this way. Losing the interstellars. But reality is what happens to you while you are setting up the future. We thought we were providing the best sort of life for our people.” He paused. “Actually, now that I think of it, we do have one.”

  “An interstellar? Excellent. Is it available?”