“Really? Wow, that kind of tips the scales, doesn’t it?”
“No kidding. Tell Ibarra, I’ve already told Shea and Bradley. Whoever we’re talking to, they’re scientists.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nala set the brown paper bag on the table in the MINERvA analysis room. She withdrew several white boxes.
“Chinese,” Daniel said. He was hungrier than he’d realized and opened a box of fried rice.
“Given the circumstances, I thought it was an appropriate choice.” She grinned. “Did you get your calls done?”
“Two of three, with one message. The White House staff is pretty good about keeping the right people informed. My boss said he’ll be on the next flight out, so expect some company here in a few hours.”
There were other thoughts running around his head, but he didn’t verbalize them. He could gauge Bradley pretty well, but Shea’s reaction could be tricky. She was a political player, and security was her overriding focus. Her first priority would continue to be a safe return of the astronauts. But the message, particularly the 3-D star map, might bring another issue into play—the potential that this communication represented a threat. He had no reason to believe it did, but not everyone thought the same way.
Nala plucked a ball of sticky rice with her chopsticks. “I’m surprised your partner didn’t come with you.”
“Marie? Yeah, I just talked to her. She’s working with the counterpart to the yin. It’s the same shape, but it has lights on the front and a panel with some of these same characters drawn on it. The whole thing is literally stuck to the Soyuz control panel, back in South Dakota.”
“She sounds like a good partner. I like her.”
“You haven’t even met her.”
“No matter. I know enough.” She pinched a chunk of pork.
“Marie trusted you right away,” Daniel confided. “Did the FBI show you the documents I sent? That white envelope that McLellan gave me at the bar. It was a full dossier on you, complete with phone records of calls supposedly placed to China.”
She shook her head. “Shitheads. The calls were probably real—except Stetler was the one who made them, not me.”
“Marie took your side. She didn’t hesitate.”
“There you go.” She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s why I like her.”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I do too.” He opened his laptop and pulled up a copy of the text message received by Soyuz, along with the 4-D image star map. “Looking at them side by side, it’s easier to see what matches.” He waved her over. “Take a look.”
She rolled her chair around the table, next to Daniel’s. “That’s the message? Interesting script. You sure it’s not Arabic or something like that?”
“It’s not. The guys at Ellsworth compared it to several languages. I did too on the flight out here. We’ll need a linguist to double-check, but so far it doesn’t match any known language.” He explained the three lines of script and their relation to the Russian phrase he now had memorized.
“Ah, so that’s how you discovered the link between the text message and the yin thing. Pretty smart, Daniel. I don’t think you need the linguist.”
“Well, the characters in this message were fairly easy. They’re just phonetic matches to a phrase we already knew. But there’s no meaning involved, it’s probably just an echo, like a parrot saying ‘cracker.’ If we’re going to make sense out of the map, we’ll need to understand what the characters actually mean, and that’s much harder.”
“Seems like you’d need something to translate,” she offered. “A book of photographs, with the corresponding script next to each picture. Like a children’s book.”
“That would certainly help, wouldn’t it?” He recalled several exobiology seminars he had attended, including a panel discussion on communicating with another intelligence. “A primer is useful for concepts that two civilizations share, like ‘water’ or ‘star.’ But it breaks down quickly. Reverse the scenario. What if we showed them a picture of say, a pencil or a spoon—would they know how these objects are used? Very doubtful, at least not until they understand more about us. Many of our manufactured objects are designed for our bodies. Even chopsticks.” He fumbled trying to pick up a piece of pork. “As simple as they seem, chopsticks are extensions to our fingers. The same would be true for them.”
It was an age-old debate. Would evolution work the same on other planets, producing similar body parts? Or would alien life be entirely foreign, even unrecognizable? An octopus doesn’t have fingers but can grasp a variety of things. If their bodies were entirely different, wouldn’t their thought process be different too?
Daniel looked back at his computer, carefully studying both images side by side. “Huh.”
“What do you see?” she asked.
“Nothing, but that’s just it. Not a single character in the text message matches any character on the map. What does that tell you?”
“I don’t know. What does it tell you?”
Daniel paused. “Numbers.”
“Sorry, I’m not following your logic there.”
He set down his chopsticks while he pondered his own statement. “Are numbers a universal math concept? Who knows? But numbers were invented independently multiple times in human history, and it’s pretty hard to imagine mathematics without numbers. And without math, you don’t have science.”
He pointed to the text message. “Phonetic characters, representing speech. We’ve already figured that out.” He pointed to the star map, surrounded by groups of characters. “A map with characters, none of which are shared with the message. These could be numeric representations of positions on the map.”
“Maybe, but they’ve already shown us their numbers. Their fractions were little moons.”
Daniel thought for a minute. “The pies are visual, but I can’t see how you could extend that into a full-fledged math system. To have any meaningful math, you’ve got to have numbers. Of course, I’m human, so my bias is guaranteed.”
She set her chopsticks down. “Okay, still brainstorming, so I have another idea. It’s probably nothing, but I was just thinking about the old connect-the-dots game we played as children. The book gives you some part of the picture already drawn, and you fill in the rest yourself. Let me see that diagram again.”
Daniel had to admit he would have never thought of it. They looked at the diagram together. Some oranges were connected by lines, but it was a radial pattern from a central point. He mentally connected some of the other oranges, but nothing popped out. He shook his head.
“Yeah, maybe not,” she said. “It was just a thought.”
Daniel turned to her. “You know, you’re really good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Brainstorming, coming up with ideas, thinking through a problem. You’re good at it.”
She smiled. “Thanks. It’s a fun problem, like a difficult puzzle with no hints. I keep wondering if these people are challenging us.”
“Maybe they think it’s simple. Not a puzzle at all, but just a communication. I have to say, though, displaying portions of the map in 3-D and the rest in 4-D sure seems intentional.”
“So, do you really think it’s a test?”
Everything about the intelligence on the other side of the message was unknown. With such limited communication, even the reason for the message not clear. It could be a test, but it could just as easily be something trivial.
Daniel had been down this road before. “I’ve often thought that the reason we had never heard from other civilizations was not because they weren’t out there. It was because they didn’t really care. Just because some yokel from the backwaters of the galaxy comes calling doesn’t mean you invite him into your house. So, even if they knew we existed, maybe they just didn’t care. Or at least, that’s what I used to think.”
“And now?” she asked.
“They care, at least enough to communicate. They’re not treating us as insignificant.
”
Nala took a sip of water. “Maybe I’m good at ideas, but you’re really good at that.”
“What, bloviating?”
“No. Summarizing, making sense of things, asking the right questions to find the meaning. You’re a natural.” Her look was sincere.
“You’re very kind. I get my inspiration on occasion.”
She laughed. “I do too, in weird ways.”
He bared a bit of private information. “My inspiration comes when I’m in the shower.”
“No, really? That’s funny, we both use warm water. I have a float pod.”
“And that is…?”
“An immersion tank. You’ve never heard of floating?”
“Never tried it, sorry.”
Her eyes were downcast as she revealed what was certainly a private moment of her own. “It’s meditation without distraction. When you’re floating, you feel your breath, your heartbeat and nothing else. You get into a state of total relaxation and your mind wanders. You hallucinate.”
“Really?”
She laughed. “Yes, really. Deprive your brain of external stimulus and it creates its own. Weird shit, sometimes. Like in a dream, except you’re fully awake.”
“So how does that inspire you?”
There was a sincerity in her eyes. “Promise you won’t laugh?” He agreed. “I’ve developed my own technique. You fill your conscious mind beforehand with whatever you want your subconscious to process. After you’ve been in the no-stimulus environment for a while, your subconscious takes over. It’s like being on autopilot. You don’t even think about it, insight just comes to you. Remember what I told you about Wah Xiang? I figured that out while I was in the pod.”
“I’ll have to try it sometime.” He meant it.
The conversation stopped and they both sat silently. She finally broke the silence. “I have an idea.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows high. “Involving warm water?”
She admonished him with a finger. “Perfectly wholesome. But it will give you a good idea how to find inspiration through your subconscious.”
Daniel twisted his head. “I wish we had time, but really—”
“Look. You have a problem right in front of you that you haven’t solved, right?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“This could help you solve it. Give me five minutes. You can spare that. The technique works, really.”
Before Daniel could put up any other objections, she stood up, flipped the room light off and moved behind his chair. The room was darker, but his laptop screen provided enough light to see. She put her hands on his shoulders and bent down, her mouth close to his ear, and whispered, “For science.”
He laughed and turned his head towards her. “I’ve heard that line before… well, actually I haven’t.”
She put her hands on his temples and turned his head to look forward at his computer. “No jokes, this is serious. Now, examine the image on your computer. Mentally absorb everything you see.”
Five minutes. I can spare that. He did as she asked and took one more look at the image of oranges and blueberries surrounded by characters.
“List what you see. Describe the components and their relationships with each other.”
“A central sphere, with spokes to other spheres, four tables of rows and columns…”
“Good. List everything.” Daniel continued and described the items on the screen until there was nothing left to itemize. “Now… close your eyes.” She removed her hands and whispered into his ear, “Relax your body.” He tried, but he could still feel her standing behind him and the unusual situation was hardly relaxing. She began to rub his shoulders gently and his muscles relaxed, a little.
“Good, relax. Now, I’m going to stay behind you, and as you hear me breathe in, you count in your head—one… two… When I breathe out, you count again—one… two… We’ll keep a tempo, together. It’s easy, and very repetitive. I’ll tell you when to stop. Just count silently and listen to my breath, nothing else. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said softly. It seemed odd, but he was game.
She leaned in very close, her lips grazing his left ear. She breathed in, and then out, at a normal rate but with a stronger breath. She let the air blow across his ear. In his head, Daniel counted in time with her breathing—one… two… He kept very still and felt her lips occasionally touch the side of his ear. It was sensual, even if she didn’t mean it to be. Or maybe she did, he wasn’t really sure.
At more than a hundred meters below ground, the room was intensely quiet, and relatively dark. It was relaxing. He listened carefully and could hear a slight vibration in her breath. Her heartbeat. After a minute, she whispered again. “Hear nothing but my breath. Think of nothing and count.” She continued her slow but purposeful breathing, and Daniel continued to count. He thought of nothing. Well, almost nothing.
Time passed, and even the thoughts of the sensual woman behind him began to dissipate. The slow, rhythmic tempo of her breathing was relaxing to both his body and his mind. For a brief time, he felt like he was dreaming, yet still awake. It was entrancing and timeless, and he enjoyed it.
The spell was interrupted as her hair fell across the back of his neck. His heartbeat picked up. “I hear that, Daniel,” she whispered. “Your heart gives you away. Good job focusing, but you’ll need practice.”
“I did start to…”
Nala put her finger to his mouth. “Shhh.”
·
40 Inspiration
Daniel sat motionless, his eyes closed. The stillness of the darkened room eliminated all but the weakest of sounds—the gentle rhythm of his own heart, the occasional creak of the chair. He felt tranquil, but fully conscious. Like sav asana, the yoga technique for rest and contemplation.
Nala whispered in his ear. “Ready to think again?”
He turned around as she flipped the lights on. “An interesting exercise, but I’m not sure it did anything.”
She sat in the chair next to him. “You mean your brain’s not suddenly sparking fabulous new ideas? But why should you expect that? The exercise wasn’t for your conscious mind. And, unless you’re dreaming right now, your subconscious is in the backseat.”
“True enough. Thanks for the lesson, your technique is very… physical.” And sensual, but he left that part out. It didn’t matter; she knew exactly what she was doing.
She rested her elbows on the table and turned toward Daniel’s laptop. The image of oranges and blueberries, along with connecting lines and characters, still filled the screen. “It’s all very tabular. Columns and rows.” The smart physicist had returned to the decorous side of the social boundary line. “Except for the single column next to the Christmas tree.”
Daniel eventually turned his focus to the computer. He gravitated to the triangular shape, the Christmas tree, as she called it. A triangle filled with small lines, like dashes. One at the top, then two. “Look at that,” he said, his mind racing. “There’s our list of numbers.”
“Where?”
“Inside the Christmas tree. The dashes. One at the top, then two, and right on down. At the bottom, there are seven dashes inside the triangle.”
Nala smiled. “They line up with the characters in that single column. Except for the topmost character.”
“Zero. It’s zero at the top, the point of the Christmas tree.”
She used a finger to count the characters in the vertical column. “Eight characters. Representing zero through seven? A base eight counting system. You think it’s that simple? We use different bases all the time in computer programming.”
“Yeah, it could be. All the other tables have columns of characters too. Maybe they write all their numbers vertically.”
The realization hit him like a brick in the face.
“It’s a countdown,” he whispered.
Nala squinted at him. “What’s a countdown? This image?”
Daniel slowly shook his head. “No… the yang…
in South Dakota.” His mind was gripped with the concept of a countdown and his imagination filled in the blank of what might happen when the count reached zero.
He grabbed his phone, fumbled it, but managed to dial. He heard a ring. Oh, hell, this can’t be true. Another ring and a familiar voice answered.
“Marie, where are you? Anywhere near Soyuz?”
“Hi, Daniel. Yeah, sitting inside right now. Still trying to get this thing to respond. Nothing so far, except the characters on the front keep changing.”
“Get out. That thing is counting down.”
“The yang? Counting down, you mean, like a timer?”
“Exactly. Those characters are numbers.”
“Yeah, I’m coming to the same conclusion.”
“We don’t know what it’s going to do. You shouldn’t be in there. Get out, now. Please!”
“What… you think it’s going to launch?”
“I have no idea, but it has me worried. Humor me, okay? Get out of there.”
“Okay, I will. I’ll need two hands to get through the hatch. I’ll call you back.” She disconnected.
Daniel’s heart raced, and images of explosions filled his mind. It was a gut reaction, he knew that. A minute passed and his thoughts coalesced into a more logical form. There was no reason to panic. Even if the yang was counting, he didn’t know whether it was up or down. Maybe it didn’t matter. It was a clock, it was timing something, and the outcome was unknown. He felt the adrenaline pumping through his body. Don’t beat yourself up, he thought, it was a normal human reaction.
Nala looked at him with wide eyes. “Wow, that doesn’t sound good.”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe I overreacted. But we should be more cautious with these things. They could easily have hidden functions that we haven’t guessed yet.”
He pointed to the screen and spoke with certainty. “These are clearly numbers, and they’re putting them in order. The Christmas tree is spelling it out. These same characters are scattered around in the other tables.”
Quantum Space: Book One in the Quantum Series Page 23