The Visitor

by Tony Harmsworth

  ‘But, Eve.’

  ‘Dad, please…’

  He shook his head.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, ‘You’ll know if ever I’m allowed to tell you. You’ll be the first person I’ll tell. In the meantime, please don’t ask me again. Please. It would make life difficult for me. Promise me,’ and I felt tears building in my eyes.

  He looked at me, a hand on each of my shoulders, and realised he’d pushed it too far. ‘Okay, darling,’ he kissed me, and we continued our walk.

  ‘Oh, and it should be “Dame Darling” in future, please,’ I giggled, which broke the tension and we both laughed as we walked arm in arm along the lane enjoying the moment.

  On the weekend of the fifth of January, we moved into our rented cottage in the small town of Helston in Cornwall. On the Tuesday, I’d take up my post at the Goonhilly Earth Station and the real work would begin.

  12 New Challenges

  My first day in the new job.

  The taxi arrived, I entered the code which specified the reception doors of my offices at Goonhilly, and it set off across the wild countryside. Although short, this was a beautiful journey of which I’d never tire. At the security gates, I flashed my identification to one of the two security guards.

  His eyes lit up. He was meeting the new boss.

  ‘Good morning, Dame Evelyn.’

  I read the name on his badge. ‘Good morning, Jack,’ I said to him and ‘Drive on,’ to the car.

  It delivered me to the computer and administration building. I hung my coat over my shoulders like a cape, rather than wear it, and walked towards the entrance, dismissing the car.

  The car called after me, ‘Doctor Slater, you have left something.’

  My umbrella was lying on the seat. The car’s ability to check changes in its weight allowed it to spot forgotten possessions.

  There were already a few manual-drive and autonomous cars in the car park. I walked over to the metallic British racing green Jaguar, which I knew to be my new personal autonomous vehicle. It recognised my watch as I approached and unlocked. I tossed the umbrella onto the back seat, admired the car’s beautiful sleek lines for a moment, and returned to the entrance. My reflection in the smoked glass doors told me that my appearance was okay after the short ride from Helston. Best suit today and I looked every bit the incoming CEO and very fashionable with the coat draped over my shoulders.

  At reception, a young woman looked up from the desk towards me. ‘Can I help… oh, sorry. It’s Dame Evelyn, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, and you are?’

  ‘Maureen Welch, receptionist.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Maureen. Do you know if Miss de Vries is in yet?’

  ‘Yes, she arrived a couple of minutes ago. Do you know how to find your office?’

  ‘Vaguely. Who is the lady in the back office?’ I couldn’t get into my office, or even the corridor, without a code.

  ‘Mrs Ireland, head of reception.’

  ‘Well, call her through for me and perhaps you can also call Miss de Vries and get her to collect me as I’ll need security codes.’

  ‘Certainly, Dame Evelyn.’ She disappeared through to the back office.

  I’d have to do something about this “Dame Evelyn” business. I loved having the honour but would rather it wasn’t made obvious each time people spoke to me. Status had never really meant anything to me. I think it was more important to my parents, but I certainly intended to use it to open doors in the corridors of power when needed. Doctor was different – it was something I had worked for over a number of years, not something I’d gained by being in the right place at the right time.

  Mrs Ireland, an impeccably dressed thirty-something, arrived from the back office and reached over the counter to shake my hand, ‘Dame Evelyn, pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you too. I’ll call you in for a chat at some point but I’ve no intention of changing anything in the front office. What’s your first name?’

  ‘Marjorie. Call me when you need me, Dame Evelyn.’

  ‘Okay, I will do, and I’d prefer Doctor Slater in future. Thank you.’

  My secretary cum PA, Janet de Vries, was approaching. I knew her to be a jovial bundle of energetic efficiency.

  ‘Hello, Dame Evelyn, welcome back to Goonhilly,’ she said, a beaming smile on her naturally happy face.

  ‘Hello, Janet. Lovely to see you again. You’d better lead the way. I’ve a rough idea where I am from the floor plan, but I’d like you to show me where things are on the way. Also, you can use Doctor.’

  ‘What about when I bring people in or am arranging things for you?’

  This was going to quickly become annoying, ‘Okay, we’ll talk about it later but within the building, “Doctor” is fine, and will you do me a favour by letting all of my staff know my preference too.’

  ‘Okay, Doctor Slater. Well, starting from here we have reception plus a waiting area over by the windows. Ladies and gents to the right.’

  She led me through the telescope management area, where Mr Brown was based, then we progressed back into reception, moved to the other end of the building, and passed through the secure door with keypad into my domain.

  Here we saw the secure computer section, the admin department and language laboratory, on one side of the corridor and, on the other, the new direct communications centre, in constant touch with the Cluster, ISS, UKSA, ESA, NASA, JAXA, CSA, and Roscosmos. Finally, the door into my suite of offices.

  ‘This is where I work, also your ESA liaison officer and Mr Riley’s secretary,’ she said waving vaguely at the three desks. Tim Riley was my deputy and we’d already been in touch by email and Skype.

  ‘That’s Mr Riley’s office,’ she said, waving a hand towards a closed mahogany door. ‘Your office is through this door and you’ve a separate entrance onto the corridor which has a keypad on both sides. My computer tells me if you leave through it. And that is about it for this building.’

  ‘I can’t escape you then?’

  ‘No, but I can be complicit if you make a run for it,’ she said and laughed.

  ‘Ha-ha, I hope it doesn’t come to that.’ I liked her. This was going to be a good working relationship.

  ‘This is your temporary security code,’ she said, handing me one of those envelopes which came with PINs from the banks. ‘You can change it through your computer.’

  ‘Okay, Janet. Let me settle into my office and I’ll give you a call to go through my diary.’

  ‘Would you like a coffee or tea?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. Builder’s tea, milk, no sugar. Leave it ten minutes and I’ll be ready for you by then.’

  She laughed at my tea description. ‘Will do.’

  I looked around my office, almost in wonderment. It was the room in which I’d been interviewed. It was palatial with full-height windows overlooking shrubs, grassed areas and one of the radio-telescope dishes in the middle distance. An inspiring view.

  Butting on to my desk to form a T was the conference table with seven guest chairs.

  There were cupboards, bookcases, and three large abstract paintings. Two were fine, but the other would have to go. Too much red. I like subtle and pastels normally.

  I walked around my enormous desk, caressing the surface with my fingertips.

  My computer had a twenty-four-inch curved-screen monitor. A twelve-inch reflexlet was poking out from behind it. These flexible computers had superseded tablets some years previously. Its secure redtooth gave me close to one hundred metres encrypted range from my desk, or it could operate as a stand-alone machine. A wireless keyboard and thimball (the new version of a mouse into which you insert your finger) sat beside it.

  Behind my desk was an enormous image of the dishes to the southern side, photographed from a slightly elevated viewpoint, probably by a drone.

  Beside Janet’s door was a wall-mounted seventy-two-inch 8K curved-screen television. A three
-seater sofa and matching easy chair were positioned beside the window for informal meetings. I smiled at the innovative, circular, glass-topped coffee table, mounted on a support in the style of a satellite dish. Some copies of astronomy magazines appropriately graced its top.

  I was thrilled at such unbelievable luxury. In the past, I’d worked in tiny rooms or cramped open-plan offices with well-used and non-matching furniture. I needed to pinch myself that the office was truly mine and I was really the chief executive of this huge establishment. I hoped no one would burst in and tell me it had all been some horrible bureaucratic mistake.

  Once at my desk, I’d no sooner finished changing my PIN when there was a knock on the door and Janet entered with two mugs of tea. She placed one in front of me, put the other on the corner of my desk, swung one of the chairs around and sat down with her reflexlet.

  I slipped my index finger into the thimball again and the monitor showed my diary for the week.

  ‘I’d better meet Michael, the telescope director, first, Janet. What’s his clearance on the Cluster?’

  ‘He's cleared but he's the only person outside of our secure area who has clearance.’

  ‘Right. Let's go for ten am.’

  ‘Type M Brown into the space. It will check if he’s free.’

  I turned the monitor, so Janet was able to see, typed the name and it appeared at the top of the screen. Using my thimball I hovered over it, bent my finger to collect it, dragged it to ten am and straightened my finger again to release. It now appeared in a green box between ten and eleven.

  ‘Does that mean he’ll know about the meeting?’

  ‘Yes, it also means he’s free, and his secretary will also know. If he hasn't acknowledged within thirty minutes the entry will turn amber and it’ll flash red on his and his secretary's diaries.’

  ‘Janet, while we drink this tea, tell me how you see your main responsibilities here.’

  She had come prepared and pulled a document from a folder she'd laid on the corner of my desk, but first she’d something else to get off her chest.

  ‘Doctor Slater, I know you’d like to drop the Dame within the organisation but there are certain protocols I think you should consider. For instance, if someone telephones and wants to talk to you from outside, I think I should say, “I'll find out if Dame Evelyn is available,” and if I’m booking accommodation or setting up appointments for you, I really should use “Dame” then too.’

  ‘Yes. I understand what you mean. Okay, talk to an honours expert about it and put the protocol into place. But here, among my staff, it’s Doctor, okay?’

  She thanked me, and we ran through her job specification. We finished about nine thirty and I asked her to get my deputy, Tim Riley, to come in as soon as he was free.

  Two or three minutes later there was another knock on the door. A balding, white, forty-year-old, wearing a fashionable light brown suit, entered the room.

  I jumped up, skirted around the table and shook his hand. I craned my neck to look up at him as he was much taller than me and very lanky.

  ‘Tim, I'm so pleased to meet you after our telephone conversations.’

  ‘Honoured to meet you. Janet tells me I should use Doctor rather than Dame, Doctor Slater.’ His clean-shaven face gave me a genuine smile.

  ‘Oh, this honour thing is so intrusive, Tim, please call me Eve or Evelyn when we’re meeting informally, whichever you prefer.’

  ‘Eve, then. Thanks.’

  ‘You've been fully briefed on AD1?’

  ‘Yes. We’ve a fascinating project ahead of us. How would you like to use me?’

  ‘Firstly, I want you to make a point of always knowing what I’m doing and who I’m seeing. Get Janet to give you access to my diary and keep an eye on it. I’ve Michael Brown coming over shortly and I'd like you to be here. You worked for him, yes?’

  ‘I was his deputy until this new section was set up.’

  ‘Your main duties, Tim, will be to get the computer, language, and admin sections of our little secret service to liaise with each other. I won't tolerate infighting or power struggles. It’d be good if you could make it clear in general conversation rather than spelling it out. Let them know merit will always be noticed, but deliberate point scoring will never achieve anything as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘Okay. Can do.’

  ‘Have you seen the writing from the side of the craft?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I want the two of us to speak to the language section after lunch. Set it up and let Janet know. Frankly, the language boys were put in place too soon in my opinion and it’ll be a problem keeping them occupied until more hieroglyphics are found.’

  ‘Yes. I think the Home Office wanted everything in place as quickly as possible and didn’t think it through.’

  It was good to see we were on the same wavelength.

  Our chat continued for another fifteen minutes. He seemed easy going but efficient and of course he wanted me to recount the discovery story. I dare say it’ll eventually become tiresome, but currently it was still fun.

  We talked generally about living on the Lizard peninsula, then Janet knocked and entered with a short, stocky immaculately dressed Asian man in his fifties with a good head of hair which was turning silver. He also sported a small silver moustache, tiny round spectacles, and was wearing a blue serge suit.

  I stood up and walked around the right of my desk. He came forward and we shook hands.

  ‘I’m really pleased to meet you, Mr Brown. Can I call you Michael?’

  ‘Yes, fine. Pleased to meet you too, Doctor Slater.’

  ‘Eve or Evelyn, please. You know Tim, of course?’

  ‘Hi, Tim,’ he said.

  ‘Michael,’ I said, ‘you are the only one on the non-secure side of Goonhilly to know about the alien craft. I’ll keep you informed as to progress, but secrecy is crucial. For confidentiality reasons, we won’t talk about the project anywhere outside this secure wing.’

  ‘Yes, no problem.’

  ‘That means not in your office, either,’ I said.

  ‘Okay. I’ll come over here for briefings et cetera.’

  ‘I’d love to know more about the telescope and communications functions of non-secure Goonhilly, but my main function here will revolve around AD1. I want... no, I need you to function autonomously and keep all day to day operations of the Earth station running smoothly.’

  ‘You can rely on me.’

  ‘You do understand that I’m not here to replace you. You’re still GES Limited’s boss.’

  ‘Yes, the situation has been made clear.’

  ‘There’ll be a growing curiosity about the function of this secure section. I want you to ensure it does not bubble over into a them and us situation. Stamp on it hard if that occurs.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Also, it’s likely that anyone trying to find out what we’re up to, might be tempted to try to do that through your staff, so any strange behaviour or out of character questions should be treated with suspicion.’

  ‘Yes. Understand,’ he said.

  ‘I’m happy for the word “military” to be rumoured about our work, but I don’t, under any circumstances, want to hear UFO or alien spacecraft being talked about anywhere outside of this secure section. I’ll be making it clear to everyone on this side of the building at a staff meeting this afternoon.’

  ‘Okay, fine. I'll keep an ear to the ground on staff chatter.’

  I went on to ask Mr Brown what he wanted from me, and the meeting continued in a businesslike manner until about ten forty am when Michael and Tim left, leaving me to my own devices. I gave a sigh of relief once they’d gone. I hated meetings and even the idea of administration meetings was anathema. I intended to keep them to an absolute minimum.

  Next on the agenda was much more exciting – a secure Skype call to Dr Reg Naughton in the Cluster. What progress had there been on taking the alien de
vice apart?

  13 Cluster

  Tim and I spent a while with the language technicians and then the computer hackers, ensuring their readiness for when data arrived, but neither department yet had much to go on.

  ‘I’ll make sure I chat to them regularly to keep their spirits up,’ Tim said.

  ‘Yes, that’ll be important. I couldn’t talk to Dr Naughton this morning so I’ve some time booked for four o’clock. I’ll ask him to put in a special search for more writing or symbols.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  Later in the day I was sitting at my desk as the secure video call arrived from the Cluster.

  ‘Hi, Reg. My first day.’

  ‘Congratulations. Glad you took the job.’

  ‘I’m thrilled to be so involved. I could easily have been back in astronaut liaison at ESA.’

  ‘We’re lucky to be part of such an amazing project.’

  ‘Yes, so exciting. Listen, can I give you a couple of quick specifics?’

  ‘Sure, fire away,’ said Reg.

  ‘I’ve two frustrated language experts tearing their hair out. They badly need some more hieroglyphs. Can you help at all?’

  ‘Well, possibly. Each of the fuel containers has a symbol on the side. They’re identical but if I were a betting man, I’d say it’s a brand, rather than writing.’

  ‘Can you get hi-res versions of each of them sent down? Don’t assume they’re all identical. Any other marks?’

  ‘Hans is doing microphotography of components. I’ll get him to keep an eye open.’

  ‘That’s great, Reg. What are you currently working on?’

  ‘The mysteries are piling up with this, Eve. The metal’s an unknown alloy. It’s stronger than steel and lighter than aluminum.’

  I ignored the Americanism.

  ‘We’re trying to analyse it at the moment, but we’re sure it’ll be useful for our space programme. NASA and Roscosmos have asked for a few samples to be sent down on the next Soyuz. We’ve got to irradiate them and hermetically seal them in helium.’

  ‘Send a piece for ESA too, please, Reg. What’s inside the cylinders? Any progress there?’