by Alex Gore
“And they seem to be somehow better in traveling through time and space than we are”, Michael added.
“Please, Hans, go on about the message”, Norman urged him.
“As I said, if you want to start a friendly conversation with a stranger, you begin with something that is familiar to him and definitely in the pleasant mode… It’s called getting on the right side of someone, and what we merely term as ‘good upbringing’…”
“So, we have cool aliens who are on top of it gentlemen”, Alan said and the rest were not sure whether he was joking or trying to pick up on Hans again.
“I feel a little awkward” Hans went on, without reflecting on this, businesslike, as if he were reading a scientific report about laboratory experiments, “but I need to admit that I failed and the understanding of such a simple code took me more than thirty minutes.”
“Hans, what on earth are the fucking aliens saying to us?” Norman raised sharply his voice.
“This here is the introduction of the piece, noted. Two tones sound simultaneously, plus the bass guitar underlining them, of course…”
“The top line is the most important.”
“It actually contains the melody, that we hum.” Hans started singing and pressing simultaneously the keys of the digital keyboard on the screen. They sounded the same: the intro. “I remembered what Bach said: ‘It is quite easy to play the organ, the only thing you must know is which key to press and after how much time to release it’. The most important characteristics of the tone are pitch and duration. From the point of view of Physics, the musical tones that are represented by notes are just sound waves with specified frequency and duration.
G = 392 Hz,
B♭= 466,16 Hz,
C = 523,25 Hz,
D♭= 554,37 Hz.
To us they might sound like a favorite song, but basically these are only figures, that are transmitted through the oscillations of the air and are caught by our hearing”, Hans added.
“All right, but what connects these numbers with the code?” “Since I studied music a little as a boy, though later I chose another field… as you well know I started my career with a doctor’s degree on…”
“Hans, please”, Norman insisted, “focus on the code!”
“For instance, the first tone is G, which is a crotchet, i.e. it has a note value of one, the second is B♭ with the same note value, the third is C, which has a note value of one and a half”, Hans went on and started writing on the screen:
G 1,0
B♭ 1,0 C 1,5
“Here is the entire riff, written in this way:
G1,0 B♭1,0 C1,5 G0,5 G0,5 B♭0,5 B♭0,5 D♭0,5 C2,0 G1,0 B♭1,0 C1,5 B♭0,5 B♭0,5 G0,5 G2,0.” “You mean that the frequency of the tone plus its duration are the key to the code?”, Marcela asked.
“Yes, that’s right. When we put the note value and abolish the decimal point, we get:
G10B♭10C15G05G05B♭05B♭05D♭05C20 G10B♭10C15B♭05B♭05G05G20 + pause. And when we replace the musical tone with the respective frequencies in Hertz:
392.10 46616.10 52325.15
392.05 392.0.5 46616.05 46616.05 55437.05 52325.20 392.10 41616.10 52325.15
46616.05 46616.05 392.05 392.20 + pause.
Or, written with no points and intervals: 3921046616105232515392053920546616054661605554370
552325203921046616105232515466160546616053920539220
+ pause.
Did you get it?” It was as if the endless deep silence of the desert was brought into the control room.
“Pause?” Marcela was the only one who dared to speak.
Hans nodded and went on:
“Yes, it seemed logical to me to present it like a note 00 with value of 1.0, i.e. 0010.”
“So, what is it finally?”, Norman asked.
“Pay attention to the time… 4/4.”
“What time is it? Isn’t 4/4 the same as 1/1, i.e. one?”, Marcela was the next one to pose a question.
“Not quite”, Hans smiled. “4/4 is a time that was imposed in classical music since Guido D’Arezzo till the Holy Trinity – Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. It consists of first strong time, second weak, third strong and fourth weak again… Suddenly the genius of rock music of the 20th century arrives and turns everything upside down.”
“What are you talking about, Hans? You’ve gone totally insane”, Alan murmured quietly.
“With Richie’s heavy rock the times of the percussion instruments are exchanged and they go respectively like that: first weak, second strong, third weak and fourth strong… which totally changes rhythm and sound. This is a colossal rebellion of a new epoch against the classical order.” Hans’s voice was exalted and shrill.
“I just cannot understand how the juxtaposition of Baroque and hard rock corresponds with our casus here” Marcela expressed her astonishment.
“So, aliens know our alphabet and language, but write to us in a musical code?!” Norman’s logic could not fathom this.
“As I said earlier, the pause is represented as 0010 and the first message that we received, is actually an incessant repetition of the key to the code…”
3921046616105232515392053920546616054661605554370
552325203921046616105232515466160546616053920539220
0010...
Everyone gaped at the stack of figures, nonsensical at first glance, which, with the help of the mathematician, now seemed a little easier to be understood. This time nobody asked a question or urged the plump professor to explain further. After giving them a few seconds to realize what they heard, Hans went on:
“Every four figures encode a letter…” 3921/0466/1610/5232/5153/9205/3920/5466/1605/4661/ 6055/5437/0552/3252/0392/1046/6161/0523/2515/4661/605 4/6616/0539/2053/9220/0010/...
Hans looked around to make sure he had their attention and continued typing: A - 3921 B - 0466 C – 1610 D – 5232 E – 5153 F – 9205 G – 3920 H – 5466 I – 1605 J – 4661 K – 6055 L – 5437 M – 0552 N – 3252 O – 0392 P – 1046 Q – 6161 R – 0523 S – 2515 T – 4661 U – 6054 V – 6616 W – 0539 X – 2053 Y – 9220 Z – 0010
“You are the top, Hans!”, Michael congratulated him spontaneously.
“With all my respect, Professor, two of the code groups are repeated for two letters J-4661 и Т-4661”, Sergey noticed.
“It would be strange if everything coincided 100%”, Hans smiled. “As Professor McDowell states in his “Theory of the Imperfect Detail”, no system could be ideal, because that would demand infinite quantity of energy and zero entropy, and this, as we all know, is impossible…”
Perseus killed the terrifying Medusa. She was one of the three Gorgonas and poisonous snakes curled on her head. Anybody at whom she directed her gaze, turned instantly to stone. Many brave men had gone to take off her head but no one came back.
Perseus never looked in her eyes, but fought her, following her reflection in his shield, shining like a mirror, that was a present to him by Pallas Athena. He cut with one blow the head of the monstrous Medusa and put it in his magic bag.
The young hero sat to take a rest from the long way, leaving the bag over water plants and seaweed. The blood of Medusa trickled through the bag and the weeds turned to stone at once. The charming sea nymphs came and were fascinated with the beauty of the stoned water plants. The nymphs took them and dispersed them on the bottom of the entire sea.
That was how the corrals were born.
Control room, Day 5, 6:13 p.m. Hans took of his jacket and hanged it on the back of the chair. “I’ve adjusted an algorithm to use the music key and translate directly the messages, coming from the ship. Here, see, to the left is he original code of numbers, and to the right – their direct ‘translation’:
39210466161052325153920539205466160546616055 5437055232520392104661610523251546616054661605 39205392200010
39210466161052325153920539205466160546616055 5437055232520392104661610523251546616054661605 39205392200010
39210466161052325153920539205466160546616055
5437055232520392104661610523251546616054661605 39205392200010
39210466161052325153920539205466160546616055 5437055232520392104661610523251546616054661605 39205392200010
A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z
“The key is repeated 1 061 594 times”, Hans continued. “They are quite insistent”, Michael noted.
“Yes, you are right, but when you need someone to hear you
by all means, you’ve got to be a little pushy, don’t you think?” Hans explained.
“Or when it is really important for both sides”, Marcela added. “And what now? What does ‘good upbringing’ dictates to be
done on our side?” Alan inquired.
“I suggest we return the code back… It is a very easy and
courteous way to show them them that we have understood the
message.” Hans made a move to start typing, but then he glanced
at Norman for an approval. He just nodded in agreement. “Here, we return the code back… Once… I guess it is enough,
and if I am right, we will be understood correctly.”
Everyone fixed their eyes towards the screen, nobody moved.
Marcela could hardly breathe with anxiety. Ten seconds passed…
then ten more… a minute… two minutes…
“That’s bullshit, you must have made some mistake in your
calculations, Hans”, Alan said nervously.
“I’d hate to disappoint you, Hans, but Alan might have a
point here”, Norman said, shifting his glance from the screen to
the plump scientist.
“Have a little patience, I am sure everything is correct…” Another minute passed and everybody in the group started
fidgeting, obviously freed from the initial tension. And just at this
moment a sequence appeared on the screen:
039232525153
“What is it, Hans?” Norman almost stuck his long nose in the screen.
0392 = О
3252 = N
5153 = E
ONE
“One?!” Norman jumped back. “Yes, ‘one’. It’s wonderful!” Hans was grinning as if he was the happiest man on earth.
The rest of them were gaping in wonder.
“What the hell is ‘one’?” Ivanov turned abruptly at Hans.
“Well, this is the beauty of Mathematics.”
“To hell with your crap about the beauty of science! Explain this fucking answer!” Alan exclaimed, as stunned as the rest of them.
“That’s the most exquisite possible answer”, Hans started exhilarated. “Think about it, on the one hand, it is very simple, while on the other, it’s exceptionally delicate. There is also the sense of a positive beginning. I mean, they did not start their answer with ‘minus one’…”
“He’s got a point”, Marcela murmured.
“You are totally right, Hans, but there might be another meaning to it… from Chemistry, for instance”, Sergey took part in the conversation.
“But yes, of course, how could I not think of it?” Hans exclaimed. “That’s the number of hydrogen… In its usual form it has one proton, one neutron and one electron.”
“And is the most widespread element in the Universe…”
“What do you mean? Really?”, Norman was uncomprehending. “How so, the most widespread? Isn’t it a gas?”
“That’s correct, it is a gas at a specific pressure and temperature, but what is more essential is that it is the basic component of all the stars in the known Universe. It composes about 98% of the entire matter in the Universe. Do you want us to continue?”
This time Hans typed without waiting for an answer:
4661- T, 0539- W, 0392- О TWO
2+2=4 …the screen answered to him. “Wow! See that? It’s working! The language of Mathematics is the language of space!” exclaimed Hans triumphantly.
“What now? How long are we going to exchange simple equations? Ask him something more serious.” Norman frowned.
331
…Hans typed.
“What is it, for God’s sake?” Alan asked.
“I wrote to him the velocity of sound. I guess he’ll easily understand.”
A new line of figures appeared on the screen:
299 792 458 “Ha! An ideal answer! And does not surprise me a bit.” Hans was content.
“What is this number?”
“It is the exact speed of light in vacuum”, Sergey answered.
“Can’t you ask anything more practical? For example, where does he come from. Enough with this Mathematics.” Norman demanded information and quickly.
At this moment the next message arrived. The screen froze in the dusk of the room with its bluish light.
- 1986 And then it went blank. The messages stopped.
Hans typed a few more figures.
The screen was silent.
“Why did it stop, Professor Rosenstein?”, Norman raised his
voice sternly.
“I have no idea, Sir”, Norman mumbled almost guiltily. “What is this, for God’s sake?!” Marcela exclaimed. “If it is the same letter code, 1=А, 9=I, 8=H, а 6=F. AIHF?
Doesn’t it mean anything?”
“No, these are not letters. It rather seems to me to be a year”,
Alan suggested.
“It really is a year, Alan. This time you are right, which is a
miracle.” Hans had embraced the screen with both hands, his
nose almost touching the glass. “We have to check what happened on Earth in 1986… Michael?”
“The first that comes to mind is the explosion of the ‘Challenger’ shuttle. It was in January, I think on the 28th… Seven NASA
astronauts died.”
“This might be a threat”, Ivanov interfered in his usual military-suspicious tone. “A kind of challenge: ‘If you make trouble,
that’s what you’ll get – Boom!’”
“Enough, Colonel, it is rather too elementary to be true.” Marcela could not believe how stuffed and washed up the brains of the military were. “If we go along this line, in April 1986 the fourth nuclear reactor in Chernobyl exploded, bringing about the greatest eco catastrophe in human history, and millions perished
as a consequence...”
“As far as I can remember, in ’86 Mike Tyson became the
youngest heavy weight boxing champion in history at the age of
twenty”, Alan interrupted her.
“Maybe, for an alien the more interesting fact would be that in
the same year the Soviet Union launched into exploitation the International Space Station ‘Mir’”, Sergey took part in the bidding. “Yes, and then on it a contact with them was made.” Michael
could not think of anything more logical.
“I doubt that any of those events are relevant”, Hans pursed
his lips.
“What is it then, Hans? Tell us, since you are so smart.” Alan
cast him a challenging glance.
“This is a year, for sure. 1986. But I have absolutely no idea
what it means.”
The Lieutenant burst in the control room breathless and
sweaty, his cheeks were flushed and underlined the paleness of his
gentle face. His voice sounded anxious.
“We have a casualty, you’ve got to see this! It is the first time
I’ve seen anything of the sort!”
Without any more words Norman and Babyface rushed out
of the door. The rest slumped down in their chairs as if after a
command ‘As you were’. They needed some rest for their brain
and senses. They kept quiet, everybody locked in their own head. Hans was the only one, remaining in feverish tension, with a
fixed gaze at the screen, as if decided not to
let the answer to the
riddle escape him.
Suddenly he stood up from the computer, threw his arms in
the air and shouted:
“Done!”
PART 4: THE EVIL
“What is completely under control is never completely real. What is real is never completely under control.”
Ilya Prigogine “Order out of Chaos” “People should generally be considered ungrateful, cheating, cowardly, covetous, so it is wiser for the master rather to inflict fear than to be willing to receive love.”
Niccolo Machiavelli It looked like a butcher’s bacchanalia. The picture was as revolting as rotting flesh in the middle of a stinking swamp. The body resembled a bloody ball of bones, flesh and excrements. Under the roughly lacerated muscles the bones were white and crashed and had acquired some freaky unnatural shape.
The carcass was like that of an animal that was thrashed in all directions, its spinal column being broken in hundreds of places. Now it was rather like a mollusk or a jelly-fish, cast lifeless on the beach by the powerful waves.
Sergeant Greg Thompson was 23. He was found dead with the assistance of dogs less than a mile away from the base. It had happened while he was on his regular night checking trip.
“I found the weapon, Sir.” The Lieutenant pointed to the grinding device, lying half-buried in the sand about two feet away from the body.
“Put your gloves on, I want you to make a thorough search of the place. And collect prints. I need an analysis as soon as possible.”
“We would hardly match the prints to any in the system, Sir… if there are any prints left at all.”
“Move, Lieutenant, action! Don’t you bother about taking decisions.”
Norman was not himself. He climbed alone in the SUV, pressed the start button and barely waiting to hear the roaring engine, stepped abruptly on the right pedal. The powerful machine obeyed and started with ugly uproar, leaving behind a cloud of sand and smoke.
Ten minutes later he was in front of his dome.
He had no wish to see anybody at that moment. He was a tough man, having experienced many cataclysms, but some things were just too much for him. He needed to be alone if only for five minutes. He went to his room and sprawled on the bed on his back. He gazed at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. This method of solitude and self-control had helped him more than once. He had learned it back in the 90-ies from a friend, a military doctor in a base in Nevada. He was lying on the bed without moving, with his arms crossed over the chest, inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly.