by Mark Wandrey
“I pray you’re right,” Alicia typed. Nearby lay piles of printed charts and calculations. Over and over again she'd run the numbers and printed out her conclusions. LM-245 was now a deadly weapon aimed at their planet. She cursed herself for not having the skill to complete the details sooner. Her incompetence had cost the planet precious days. “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
The others said their good byes and Alicia went to get a cup of tea. When she returned she found an e-mail waiting. It was from the science and technology editor of the BBC, and he had some serious questions to ask. “Thank God,” she said and picked up the phone.
Thousands of miles from where Alicia worked frantically to get her dire news to an utterly unprepared world, Mindy leaned back in her chair and heaved a great sigh. It was not her own vindication or revenge, but she and her friends at SETI had been instrumental in Alicia's success.
“Mindy, are you in there?” asked a voice nearby. Mindy turned around and looked at the voice in confusion. “I said you’ve got a call on line five.”
She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and reached for the phone. She'd stayed up all night finishing the groundwork for Alicia’s surprise party. Yawning, Mindy picked up the phone and stabbed the flashing light. “SETI, Mindy speaking.”
“I figured I’d find you there,” said a voice that took her breath away in a gasp. “Weren’t expecting to hear from me, were you?”
“No Jake, I have to say I’m surprised you found me.”
“You weren’t exactly hiding.”
“Pretty obvious, huh?”
“Yeah.” The line was silent for many seconds before her ex-fiancé spoke again. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, but you have to realize I had to come back.”
“I do, but I can’t understand why it had to be without me.”
“I don’t expect you to, that’s why I left you my share of our joint account.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. Even Charlie misses you.”
“Is there another reason you called?” she asked quickly, a catch in her voice. “Besides missing me, of course,” she added to take the harshness from her question.
“I had a call for you. Well, I’ve had a lot of calls for you. Took a while for me to explain to the boss where you had disappeared to and why. They’ve given you an indefinite leave of absence.” She said she hadn’t known but was grateful, which she really wasn’t. “But when I got to work this morning there was a call from someone named Skinner.”
“Leo Skinner, Doctor Leo Skinner of NASA?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He said he needed to talk to you right away. I said you’d left and didn’t know where you’d gone. He was quite adamant that he needed to speak to you and when I refused to give a number, he begged me, actually begged me, to give you this message.”
“Thanks for calling; I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“You’re right. But it’s good to hear your voice again.”
“You too,” and that wasn’t a lie. “Take care,” she finished and hung up.
“Miss your man?” asked the technician.
“In some ways,” she admitted. Then she looked around at all the equipment and busy astronomers and a smile lit her face. “I’ve got another call to make,” she said.
Mindy found the number in her Blackberry and quickly dialed it. A receptionist answered the line. “NASA, Dr. Skinner’s office.”
“I need to speak to Dr. Skinner please, this is Mindy Patoy.”
“Certainly, Ms. Patoy, he’s expecting your call.” There was a short pause and the line clicked.
“Mindy! I was certain your fiancé knew how to get in touch with you.”
“Yeah, but he’s not my fiancé anymore.”
“Oh, damn, sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you still practice one of your favorite hobbies. What did you call it? ‘Varying Perspective Astronomy?’”
Mindy laughed and shook her head. Dr. Skinner was one of her professors while at Princeton. Early in her career she had taken to studying the constellations and how the view would shift as you moved away from Earth. She’d called it Varying Perspective Astronomy and wrote a paper on it, much to the chagrin of her professors. While technically interesting brain food, it was mostly mental masturbation that stemmed from her inability to avoid nitpicking sci-fi films.
“It’s still a hobby.”
“Have you ever tried it in any practical exercises?”
“How could I? I’ve never been to another planet.”
“Would you like to have a go at it?” She sat there and stared at the phone in shock. Leo was about the most heavily grounded scientist she'd ever known. To hear him say such a thing was profoundly disturbing. “At a loss for words? Look, I’m sorry to ambush you, but I need your help. If you agree, I need you to go to the Seattle federal building, 18th floor FBI offices, ask for agent Smith, tell them who you are. We’ll talk more later.”
She opened her mouth to speak but a click told her the line was dead. “Shit,” she said and hung up.
“Bad news?” asked the technician.
“Brian, isn’t it? Don’t you have something else to do?” The man looked sideways at her and left. Mindy left the equipment room and went to the radio astronomy operations center. Calling any part of their building in suburban Seattle an operations center was an injustice. What was once a two-story warehouse was saved from the wrecking ball and rehabilitated into a serviceable office. The neighborhood was less than friendly, requiring almost daily removal of graffiti from the walls outside. A sign over the doorway reminded employees and guests; “Did you lock your car?” Inside the astronomy center she found one of her oldest and dearest friends, the voice behind many IM conversations, Harold Binder.
“Hey, Harold, how goes the decoding?”
“I think we’re so close I’m getting a hard-on!”
“Don’t point that crusty old thing at me, it might go off!” The tall, lanky astronomer smiled behind his flowing, gray beard. “I have to run into town for a few minutes,” she told him.
“Not going back to Jerry are you?”
“Jake, and no, I’m not going back to him. I just need to talk to someone.”
“No problem, babe. I’m not expecting things to really heat up for a few hours. It’ll take that long for the press to finish chewing over what Alicia dumped in their laps.”
“Cool, see you in a couple hours.”
As she drove toward downtown Seattle, a small smile crossed her face. The kick they gave the powers that be in the WAA would no doubt cause some chaos. It was also effective in leading toward her own vindication. She wasn’t the first astronomer to be ruined by the good old boys who ran the Association, but thanks to their efforts, Alicia Benjamin might well be the last.
The road from the office to I-5 then headed north into Seattle proper. As the freeway hugged a hill to the southeast of the city, she passed the old Boeing field and the city came into view. Mindy was suddenly confronted with a strong sense of loss. If what they had discovered was true, and she had every reason to believe in Alicia’s calculations, then this could all be gone in a few months. Shortly behind the feeling of loss was one of regret. Had they done the right thing in letting the information out like that? Wouldn’t it have been better to tell the government? Yeah, but it wouldn’t have been as satisfying, that’s for sure.
A few miles from downtown on the crowded interstate brought her the best view of the famous Space Needle. Built over fifty years ago it was still the most recognizable West Coast icon right behind the Golden Gate Bridge. She consulted her memory for the proper exit and took it. A few blocks down the city’s terraced streets, the bay now in view far below, she finally reached the federal building. Luck was with her and she found a rare street level parking space only a block away. After feeding a handful of change into the meter, she was walking toward her d
estination.
The stroll was enjoyable, owing to the temperate climate. It was an average April afternoon and the temperature was teasing sixty degrees with only a light haze of clouds. A rainstorm threatened for the afternoon but that was par for the course in Seattle. Many natives of the Pacific Northwest loved to joke that they were born with webbed feet. The spring was particularly onerous with sometimes a straight month of rain. She made note of a coffee cart vendor a short distance from the federal building and decided to get a cappuccino after her meeting.
Inside the building she went through the tight security and signed the log before proceeding to the elevator. The eighteenth floor was a short ride and before she knew it she was stepping out in front of the FBI logo on a glass door. She knew she had been under surveillance since she entered the building and took it in stride. Pushing the door open she walked up to the handsome and undoubtedly armed man behind the desk and smiled.
“Welcome to the Seattle office of the FBI, I am Special Agent Whitehead, how can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Agent Smith,” she said. He cocked his head in confusion. “I’m sorry ma’am; we don’t have an Agent Smith in this bureau. Can I look for this agent in the national index for you?”
“Tell Agent Smith that Mindy Patoy is here to see him,” she insisted. Instantly his demeanor changed and he stood calmly.
“May I please see your identification, Dr. Patoy?”
“Certainly, and Ms. Patoy will be fine.” She produced the requested documentation and he scrutinized it with a professional manor.
“Thank you, Ms. Patoy. Please proceed through the door to your left,” He leaned over and pressed a button under the counter. The indicated door buzzed loudly. She went over and pulled it open to find another FBI agent waiting on the other side. This time it was an African-American woman in the same style suit as Special Agent Whitehead had worn.
“Please follow me, ma’am?”
Mindy nodded and followed the other woman. She was led down a twisting corridor, passing many offices and two huge cubicle farms before arriving at a conference room. “Your call will be coming in on line nine momentarily. Please make yourself at home until then.” There was a water pitcher, glasses, and a small snack tray of cheese, meats and raw vegetables waiting for her.
“Thank you. Are you Agent Smith?”
“There is no Agent Smith, ma’am. I have other duties, if you will excuse me? Just press the page button on the phone when you are done and I will be back to lead you out.”
“I’m pretty sure I can find the way.”
“Just press the button so I can escort you to the exit, please?”
“Certainly,” she agreed. Mindy had the impression it wasn’t really a request. She also got the feeling that her mysterious presence was not welcome. “Thanks,” she offered. The female agent pulled the door closed. Mindy was surprised she didn’t hear the lock turn.
She took a seat next to the phone and poured herself a glass of water. Originally content to just drink some water and wait, the snack tray was too tempting and soon she was crunching crackers with cheese and dipping vegetables in tasty sauces. She was getting full just as the phone buzzed. “Your call is waiting now, Ms. Patoy.”
“Thanks,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure they could hear her, and then picked up the receiver and pressed the button numbered nine. As she did she noticed the phone had a great many more buttons with strange abbreviations. “Mindy Patoy,” she announced.
“Hello again,” said Dr. Leo Skinner on the other end. “I knew you would come, I’m just surprised how quick it was. Sorry I kept you waiting, but I went to lunch.”
“That’s no problem, Leo, the FBI graciously provided me with a snack.”
“Don’t give them more credit than they deserve, I asked them to have it waiting for you. I don’t think they like the idea of using their facilities for this meeting, but I’m afraid it was the closest SatScram phone available. Now, if you will please look down at the phone and tell me what the phone type is? It should start with SSP?”
“It says SSP122.”
“Wonderful, a newer model.” She could hear him typing something into a computer, possibly calling up a diagram of the phone? “Okay, there are a series of buttons on the left hand side that no doubt have you curious. Those are the scrambler controls. Please press COMSYN, type in two-two-one on the keypad and press COMLOK.” She did as instructed. The receiver gave a squawk, somewhat similar to that of an old-fashioned computer modem, and then she could hear him again. “Can you hear me? Good, now quickly, press COMSCR six-two-six and the COMLOK button again.” Once again she did as she was told. The receiver emitted more strange sounds and when she heard his voice now he sounded rather distorted as he asked if she could hear him.
“Yes, I can hear you okay.”
“Good, I regret the extreme measures to obtain secrecy, but I fear it is necessary. I really shouldn’t even be going outside the bag on this, but we need some answers. If you will check a chair nearby, you will find a computer notebook for you.” She looked and found the computer. “Good, please take the CAT-5 cable and plug into the jack on the phone. Alright, please set up the computer to receive streaming data.” Years of working with this sort of technology let her perform the task quickly. She told him when she was ready.
“Okay, here we go.” The computer began receiving information and an impressive multimedia presentation began as Leo Skinner narrated. “On March 16th as many as ten devices were delivered to prominent locations within the largest nations of the Earth. These devices appear to be Portals to another world…”
An hour later she closed the computer and hung up the phone. If her head had been spinning before, it was all but thunder struck now. She pressed the page button on the phone and waited for the agent to come and escort her out. She arrived and Mindy followed in silence. A few other FBI people were visible on the way, most looking at a civilian without visitor ID and no sign of handcuffs as a curiosity, but being escorted seemed to be enough to get her through. The woman held the door for her and Mindy stepped through.
Just before it closed she remembered the computer she was carrying. “Oh, I’m sorry, this belongs to you but I need the data on it. Can we arrange to-“
“
I’ve been instructed that the computer is a gift to you. Have a nice day, Ms. Patoy.” She might have been a tad insulted by the briskness of being shown the door but she was too dizzy to say a thing. Before she even realized where she was Mindy was outside on the street, ordering a big steaming cup of mocha cappuccino from a cart vendor. It wasn’t until she was halfway back to SETI before it was cool enough to drink and drink it she did, in one long gulp. The caffeine coursed through her body and helped to get her mind back in control by the time she put the car in park and climbed out, the notebook clutched to her chest. She had some work to do.
April 21
The teleconference had just begun and already Mark Volant was wishing he were somewhere else. This was the sort of thing the agency director usually sat in on, but in this case Volant had to field the questions and answers because he was the expert on the scene.
Also attending the conference were Dr. Osgood with two of his assistants, another NASA scientist named Dr. Leo Skinner, and Ted Oscenhert, national security adviser to the President of the United States. Introductions had just been completed when Oscenhert demanded to be heard.
“I just want you all to realize that the President is absolutely furious that he was not so much as briefed about this space rock until a few minutes ago when it was known to be off course for months!”
“Well,” began Dr. Skinner, “you have to understand that NASA didn’t see the event that caused the course deviation.”
“Why not?”
“We weren’t looking.”
“Again, why not?”
“Well, to watch every Earth crosser-“
“Earth crosser? What the hell is that?”
“
An Earth crossing asteroid or comet, sometimes called an NEO, or near Earth object. Any celestial object that crosses Earth’s orbit regularly or irregularly. LM245 is a regular Earth crosser. We see it every five years or so.”
“Like Halley’s comet, right?”
“Yes, but they have vastly different orbits. Now, if I may continue? Were we to watch every Earth crosser twenty-four/seven, and there have been more than fifty thousand cataloged so far-”
“What’s so hard about that?”
“Frankly, there aren’t enough telescopes on the planet. We provided an estimate on just such a program, twenty-four hour a day observations of every rock, mind you that’s impossible, but the proposal had a price tag of more than eleven billion dollars a year.”
“Ridiculous!”
“That’s exactly what your political party said at the time, so it never went anywhere. Now we have this,” Skinner said and pointed at a graphic display showing the deadly orbit of LM245.
“It’s a little late to be pointing fingers, don’t you think?” asked Osgood.
“Too true,” agreed Oscenhert quickly. “So this is a big rock coming at us?”
“Yes,” said Dr. Skinner, “about fourteen miles long, three and a half miles across at its widest and roughly shaped like a bowling pin.”
“You think it will hit Earth?”
“Well, we have to wait until my people finish working their own observations, about twenty more hours should do it. But if this amateur astronomer's observations are on the mark, then yes, it will most certainly hit us. Unwaveringly, I would have to say.”
“You seem so certain,” Oscenhert sneered, “yet you want more time.”
“I couldn’t imagine a more direct targeting of a planet with an asteroid if I’d aimed it myself.”
“So you’re one of those that think aliens are trying to kill us?” The presidential advisor made a dismissive gesture which quickly drew the ire of Skinner.