It all sounded pretty far fetched to me, but I could hear the excitement in Richard’s voice. He believed this was a real possibility, and more than that, he was hoping for it. “You want it to be aliens. Why?”
He glanced over his shoulder, grinning out of the corner of his mouth. “Because if they can survive in the cold, dark void between stars, then they’ve perfected a way to live without solar radiation, and that’s exactly what everyone on Earth needs right now. If they come visit us here, maybe they can help.”
I snorted and shook my head. “You mean if they don’t decide to kill us all and take our planet for themselves.”
“Well, yeah, there’s that,” Richard conceded. He put his laptop aside with a sigh, and then used his cane to ease himself up from the couch, grunting and panting as he did so.
“Let me help you,” Kate said and rounded the couch to grab his arm.
Richard’s gaze found mine. “You probably think I’m crazy.”
I smiled. “A little.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I probably am.”
“What do you need?” Kate asked. “You don’t have to get up. I can get it for you.”
“I need the toilet,” Richard replied.
“Oh. I’ll help you get there.”
Richard nodded agreeably, then glanced at me. “Can you believe that jackass shot the arm I use to wipe?” He shook his head ruefully. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to re-learn such a simple task.”
I frowned at the scatological talk, and my gaze slid away, back to Richard’s computer. A message popped up on the screen.
“Richard, something popped up on your screen.”
“What’s it say?” he asked.
“It says Match Found.”
Richard hobbled back over to the couch faster than I’d thought him capable. Flopping down, he grabbed his laptop and clicked past the message to study a series of single digit numbers with lots of decimal places on a black and white screen.
“This is unbelievable,” Richard whispered.
My heart began to race. “What is it?”
“The signal. The time interval between high-energy pulses was exactly the same as the propagation delay. In fact...” Richard busied himself with what looked like a math program on his computer, typing in numbers furiously.
“Yes!” He whooped and laughed, slapping his good leg.
Kate and I traded a look. “What’s going on?” I asked.
Richard twisted around in his seat, wincing as he did so. There were tears leaking from the corners of his green eyes, and they were dancing with child-like wonder. “The delay between the pulses,” he began breathlessly. “Initially it was one point zero nine five days. That’s the same amount of time it would have taken for the second pulse to travel from them to us. The interval between the second and third pulses was a little less—one point zero nine one days—and that difference corresponds exactly to the reduction in signal delay due to the rogue star’s velocity and the distance it traveled during the first delay.”
My brain hurt just thinking about what Richard was trying to say. I couldn’t see the significance, but I could see from Richard’s reaction that this must have something to do with clarifying whether or not the signals were natural.
“The pulses are ongoing,” Richard said when we didn’t immediately react with whoops of delight as he had. “The intervals vary so slightly that it was easy to assume we were looking at interference from some kind of orbital debris around the star, but the interval is decaying at a set rate that’s directly proportional to the velocity of the rogue. That’s too much of a coincidence. Those high-energy spikes are messages from ETI! They have to be.”
I still wasn’t buying it. “Is there any way you can put that in layman’s terms for us?”
Wide-eyed and pale, Kate nodded slowly.
Richard appeared to think about it for a second. “They sent their first message, right? Then they waited the exact amount of time it would take for us to receive that message before sending a second one. They did the same thing with the third and the fourth messages, waiting just over a day between messages. They’ve done that for the past month, ever since we started picking up the signals.
“They used the interval between transmissions to communicate with us. The physical nature of the signals, regardless of their possible content, is encoded with information that we should recognize: their distance from us, which we can calculate using the speed of light and the delay between pulses, and their relative inbound velocity, which we can calculate by how much the delay between pulses is changing over time.”
“But what does that mean?” Kate pressed.
Richard’s eyes sparkled on either side of his nose splint. “If I had to translate, it would go something like this: Hello, if you can read this, then you know we’re coming, and how soon we’ll be there, so get ready.”
Chapter 20
—FOUR HOURS LATER—
June 10th, 2031
Déjà vu struck me as I sat at the gate with my family, waiting for our flight at the San Antonio International Airport. A little more than a week ago we’d arrived here from Dallas, and now here we were, on our way out again.
Immediately after his discovery that the radio signals from the rogue star couldn’t be the result of natural processes, Richard had told us that he was heading up to San Francisco and from there to Mountain View where he would present his findings to the SETI Institute in person. He wanted us to stay, but after what we’d been through with that psycho stalker, none of us liked the idea of staying behind. This was the perfect chance to get away.
I managed to convince Richard to fly us all up to San Francisco and foot the bill for it by arguing that the police wouldn’t be able to get permission to search his property if we weren’t there to open the door for them. He agreed on the condition that I withdraw the remainder of our savings on our way back and use them to help re-stock the shelter.
So here we were, on our way to San Francisco. Richard was typing away on his laptop to one side of me, Rachel sitting quietly on the other. I discretely peered over Richard’s shoulder to see what he was doing now. He was logged into Gmail and busy drafting an e-mail to...
[email protected]
I did a double take. The body of the message confirmed it. The e-mail was addressed to Akron Massey. Reading the message over Richard’s shoulder, I discovered that he was writing to the billionaire about an occasion in which he and Mr. Massey had met and exchanged contact information ten years ago. He went on to describe his findings about the alien signal, and he said that he was sharing the information even before he shared it with SETI in the hopes that Mr. Massey would reconsider him as a candidate for the Mars Colony Mission.
Richard hit the send button and looked up from his computer. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. I was still staring at his screen, too shocked to look away.
Richard noticed. “What did you see?” he asked, his green eyes pinching to either side of the steel splint that held his nose together.
“You know Akron Massey?” I asked.
“I’ve met him before.”
I pointed to his screen. “You asked to join the Mars mission. You’d do that? Run away and leave us to fend for ourselves?”
Richard shook his head. “It’s not very likely that Massey will take me up on it. Everyone assigned to the mission will have been training for years already. Since I haven’t, I’m not a good fit for a plus one.”
I smiled at the party reference.
Richard went on, “Besides, it’s been a long time since Massey gave me his email. For all I know he’ll never even get the message.”
I nodded along with that, wondering if the long odds should make me feel better or worse. The fact that Richard had sent the message in spite of those odds meant that he was desperate—desperate to escape Earth.
“Rick,” I began in a low voice. “A few hours ago you were excited by the idea that thi
s might be ETI.” I used the abbreviation to obscure what I was saying from potential eavesdroppers. “Now you’re looking for a way to escape. What aren’t you telling us?”
Richard glanced around, obviously uncomfortable to be discussing this in such an open place, but after our run-in with Bill, I’d chosen an empty row of seats far away from everyone else waiting at the gate. Richard’s gaze returned to mine. “I hope that first contact will be a mutually rewarding experience that somehow elevates us and saves us from what’s coming.”
“But?” I pressed.
“But...” Richard shook his head. “If this is ETI, then we already know one thing about them with absolute certainty—they’re a lot more advanced than us.
“In our history, whenever a more advanced society met a less advanced one, the result was always the same: the destruction or assimilation of the lesser race. So unless our visitors are a lot more peaceful than we are, it’s safe to say we already know what’s going to happen when they arrive.”
I nodded slowly. It was a chilling conclusion, and one which I had already drawn for myself. The only thing holding me back from the brink of a full-blown panic was the hope that Richard was wrong about the nature of the signals. Maybe SETI would be able to prove that when he shared his findings with them.
I felt Rachel tugging on my sleeve and turned to see her peering up at me. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“What’s ETI?”
We hadn’t shared Richard’s discovery with the kids yet. As far as they knew, this was a family vacation. I pasted a smile on my face and shook my head. “Nothing important, honey.”
Alexander was looking at us, too. “It means extraterrestrial intelligence,” he said. “What are you guys talking about?”
I grimaced. Richard and I had been careful to keep our voices down, but Rachel hadn’t.
Richard traded a glance with me and shrugged. “He’s going to figure it out sooner or later.”
Later would have been better, but I nodded my consent.
“Watch my computer,” Richard said as he went to sit beside Alex and Kate.
I listened with half an ear to Alexander’s hushed exclamations as I did so.
After about a minute, I saw something pop up on Richard’s screen. It was a Gmail chat window from Akron Massey. The message read—
Can we meet?
“Uh, Richard, you need to see this.”
He came back over to see what I was talking about. His eyes widened at the sight of the chat window. I could actually see his hands shaking as he sat down and typed his reply.
Meet where? I’m on my way to speak with SETI in Mountain View. My flight leaves for San Francisco in half an hour.
Three green dots appeared to indicate Mr. Massey was typing.
How about my place in Bel Air?
Richard hesitated, and the three green dots reappeared.
Give me your flight number, and I’ll have someone waiting with a private jet to take you to LA. When you get here we can discuss your suitability for life on Mars.
I elbowed Richard in the gut, and he flinched. “Ask if we can come—not to Mars, to Bel Air.”
Richard glanced at me, then nodded and typed the question.
Absolutely. The plane sleeps ten.
“Sleeps?” I echoed. It’s crazy to think how much money some people have—soon to be had. Disaster is the great equalizer. Pretty soon Massey’s billions would be worth more as kindling than currency.
How do we find your guy? Richard typed.
He’ll be holding a sign with your name on it. Greenhouse, right?
That’s right, Richard replied. We’re arriving on flight AA75 from Dallas Fort Worth at 11:05 PM.
Good. See you soon.
Richard and I traded shocked looks. “So much for long odds,” I said. Turning to Kate, I added, “Change of plans. We have a new connection from San Francisco to LA.”
She flashed a puzzled look at me. “What? Why LA? I thought Richard was going to Mountain View?”
“We’re going to meet Akron Massey at his mansion in Bel Air. He’s flying us down from San Francisco on his private jet.”
Kate’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Saying it aloud made it all the more real to me. My heart beat faster in my chest, and sweat prickled between my shoulder blades. I couldn’t help feeling hopeful, like maybe the billionaire would offer to help us out with some of his money. He was going to lose it all to crashing economies soon, anyway, so why not throw a few million our way? Part of me knew better, but the other part of me clung to that delusion like a life raft. Akron Massey was going to save us. I was sure of it.
Chapter 21
—SIX HOURS LATER—
June 11th, 12:34 AM
I settled into my plush white leather chair on Massey’s plane. It was fully reclinable, and comfortable enough to make my bed back home feel like it was made of nails. An air hostess who could have been a model came by to introduce herself.
“I’m Vera Lopez,” she said. She had no accent to accompany the name, so I guessed that she’d been born here in the USA. “If you would like anything to eat or drink, I can take your orders now and serve you as soon as we are in the air.”
“Sweet!” Alex said.
“Shh,” Kate added. “Rachel is sleeping.”
“What do you have that’s hot?” I asked in a whisper, glancing at Rachel in the seat across the aisle from mine. It was past midnight, and she was fast asleep. From the sound of the light snoring coming from the front of the plane, so was Glenn Reese—the balding no-nonsense brick wall of a man that Mr. Massey had sent to pick us up at San Francisco Airport.
“We have Salisbury Steak or Lasagna for tonight, as well as an assortment of cold deli sandwiches.”
“I’ll have the Lasagna,” I said.
“Me, too,” Richard added.
Alex ordered the same, while Kate went with the steak. Vera nodded graciously. I heard the engines whining and then the plane jolted into motion. Vera reminded us to buckle in, and excused herself, saying that she’d come back for our drink orders once we were in the air. She went to take her seat beside Glenn, and I took a moment to recline mine, thinking no one would try to stop me with the oft-repeated please make sure your trays are locked and your seats are in the upright position.
I could see runway lights flashing through the window as we taxied around. The plane stopped just a few minutes later. Before we’d boarded this luxury aircraft, Glenn had picked us up from San Francisco International in a big black suburban and driven us to a smaller airport more suited for private planes.
Massey’s plane sat there on the runway, idle for a moment; then the whine of the engines turned to a sudden roar, and we rocketed down the runway. Rachel woke up and started crying. I felt myself sliding backward out of my seat, and suddenly I realized why airlines made people put their seats up.
I reached across the aisle for Rachel’s hand and used my other hand to hang onto my seat. “It’s okay, Rachie. You fell asleep. We’re taking off now.” She squeezed tight, and choked back her tears with muffled sobs. Kate glanced over her shoulder at us. The sensation of sliding out of my seat got worse as the plane nosed sharply up. I hurriedly raised my seat to the upright position. I was glad I did. The plane banked sideways and San Francisco appeared through my window. High rises shone bright, illuminated docks hedged the dark expanse of water in the bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge lived up to its name. From there, countless city blocks swept by. Streetlights pooled in luminous grid lines around the empty black spaces that were the rooftops of shorter buildings.
About fifteen minutes later the plane leveled out and Vera made good on her promise to come back and take our orders for drinks. I asked for a beer, then thought better of that—this was a billionaire’s private jet. I asked for a glass of the best whiskey they had instead. She came back wearing silk gloves and holding a decorative crystal decanter and a matching glass. The bottle and the glass were pieces of art, and I suspe
cted the gold embellishments on them might actually be real.
“Sixty Year Old Tullibardine Scotch,” Vera said with a smile.
Sixty! “Ah, on second thought, I’ll have the beer. I wouldn’t want Mr. Massey to find out I drank all of his good Scotch.”
Vera smiled and shook her head. “His good Scotch is a hundred years old. This is the bottle he reserves for guests. You’re more than welcome to have some.”
“Well, when you put it like that...” I trailed off and nodded. Vera poured two fingers into the glass she’d brought and handed it to me. I didn’t dare to ask for ice. Raising the glass to my lips, I was greeted by the spicy, fragrant smell of oak. I took a sip. The flavor was even more luscious than the smell. Rich-tasting, and ever-so-smooth going down... “I think Mr. Massey has just ruined whiskey for me,” I said through half-lidded eyes.
Vera laughed politely and went to go put the priceless bottle back.
I felt guilty for drinking something so expensive. All of Hell was about to be unleashed on Earth, and here I was sipping liquid gold distilled straight out of Heaven.
Then again, it would be a crime not to enjoy this. Smiling to myself, I reclined my seat by a few degrees and laid my head back with a sigh. Guilty pleasures were the only kind the world had left.
* * *
—THREE HOURS LATER—
June 11th, 3:27 AM
I didn’t sleep on the plane, but by the time we deplaned and climbed into the self-driving Tesla waiting for us in LA, I was lapsing in and out of consciousness. I fought it for a few minutes; then I heard car doors opening and felt Kate shaking me.
“Wake up, Logan. We’re here.”
“Already?” I lifted my head from her shoulder and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth. “Sorry,” I mumbled, noticing the dark patch on her blouse.
We climbed out of the car in front of a massive three-story house. A giant fountain thundered beside the car. Glenn led us up a stairway to a pair of twelve-foot black doors with golden handles. Two men in black suits flanked the doors with semi-automatic pistols highly-visible in holsters at their hips. They barely glanced at us as we approached. We were expected.
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