The Asteroid

by M R Cates

  Chapter 10

  The whole world seemed to hold its collective breath as Asteroid 1744 moved, inexorably, into orbit around the earth. Its orbital period would be about four months, taking it slowly through a kind of asteroid year. After its final trajectory adjustments had been made the “space doughnut” returned to a state of changeless behavior that might be expected of an asteroid. No peep, electromagnetically speaking, was heard from it. No meaningful clue could be gathered from a detailed study of the surface. Its angle in the sky, about forty degrees above (north) of the plane of the ecliptic, put the asteroid in an awkward position for some telescopes, but perfectly fine for the array of instruments atop Mauna Kea. As the asteroid continued through its path around earth it would go south of the ecliptic a similar amount, of course, but would continue to be in view, low on the horizon. A peculiarity of Asteroid 1744's new orbit was added to the stack of data supporting its sentient control: the doughnut shape was oriented so that the same side was continuously presented to the earth. Any view of it through a suitably powered telescope showed a rock circle with a hole through its middle. If any information were displayed on the back side there was no way to see much of it. Even the satellites around the moon couldn't get a significantly better angle, though they could see a little bit of the hidden area. What they saw, unfortunately – or fortunately – was similar to the visible front side. The instruments in orbit around Mars and Europa – Jupiter's moon – were too far away to observe any more than a tiny bright spot. In its tilted orbit, Asteroid 1744 displayed phases somewhat like the moon, adding further to the challenge of examining its surface.

  It is as impossible to describe the emotional impact of the asteroid's arrival on the people of earth as to describe the enormous variety of reactions people had. The Western news media had finally been given access to the greatest news story of all, dwarfing their paranoia over political events, coverage of trials and broken marriages of celebrities, accidental and murderous deaths of famous or infamous people, wars and rumors of wars, indeed any other event whatsoever since the so-called “information age” began. Visitors from outer space, it seems, have been the fantasy or nightmare of a large number of people on earth, especially those who have some small amount of spare time, time free from the messy business of survival. News programs everywhere – including the poorest and most oppressed nations on earth – concentrated on the asteroid, and on the effect its arrival had in bringing humanity together, regardless of race, creed, or national origin. In America, Europe, Japan, and other developed parts of the planet, there were numerous special features in news magazines, on television, and in overwhelming floods on the Internet. Speculation as to the intent of the arriving aliens – despite the fact that their actual existence in or on the asteroid was only further speculation – mostly concentrated on the catastrophic. Once again human beings illustrated their psychological need to express the horrible in hopes that reality would turn out to be somewhat better. Official government channels, on the other hand, besides being noncommittal for the most part, were quick to point out that there were no de facto reasons for alarm. Reporting on the asteroid included many names, of course, but the young astronomer Sandra Hughes was prominent among them. She, despite being protected by, first, being in Hawaii and away from most of the vultures, and by the Keck Observatory itself, was constantly having to avoid one intrusion or the other by the media. To Sandra's credit, she didn't truly understand the extent of her own popularity and was so busy that she had little time to take into account her own situation with respect to the famous asteroid.

  A few days after Sandra had spoken to the President the first of a series of radio signals was directed at the asteroid. The signal was sent with significant strength from the huge radio-telescope in Puerto Rico and from several smaller transmitters at different frequencies. A mind-boggling series of discussions, involving thousands of leaders and scientists from all over the world, had led to the decision to transmit. And when the transmission was sent, it was sent under the auspices of the United Nations and in seven different languages of earth: English, Spanish, French, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, and Swahili. The English version of the transmission went as follows: “The United Nations of planet Earth have noted your arrival into orbit around our planet. We greet you in peace. We welcome communication and sharing of information.”

  The signal was sent on varying frequencies every ten minutes for about twelve hours, then repeated on the same timetable for four successive days. There was no sign that the asteroid had either received or not received the communication. The signal had been strong enough that its reflection back toward the earth from the rocky asteroid surface was detected by several low-orbiting satellites. There was little doubt that the asteroid could have detected the signal, if there were technology on board to record and analyze radio waves. There, of course, remained the question of whether intelligence in the form of human languages would be decipherable – or even interpreted as intelligence – by some alien sentience. It was also possible that no one was at home on the asteroid, and that it had been put in place by remote control of an unknown type.

  The asteroid's orbit was a confounding problem for the earth observers. More than twice as far away as the moon, it was observable, but not easily. Only the largest of telescope mirrors could retrieve many details. Telescopes like the twin Kecks were still needed to give the asteroid the proper attention. Given the Kecks' role in finding the strange body in the first place, the Hawaiian observatory was awarded the primary responsibility for its monitoring. Dr. Sandra Hughes, partly because she had requested it, though probably mostly because she was now a household name in all the developed world, was, given the controlling authority – under Reginald Wyler's general administration – for the monitoring program. In addition to the space telescope, three other large ground-based telescopes – including the one under Frederico Constanza's care in Spain, the eight-meter telescope of the Chilean Academy of Sciences – high in the Chilean Andes, and the new eight-meter array near Johannesburg in South Africa, were coordinated by Sandra in a plan to have continuous surveillance of the asteroid.

  After three weeks, time, as is its wont, was beginning to moderate the deafening roar of news coverage down to something like a thunderous continuity. Since nothing further was happening with the orbiting asteroid, there was only so many ways the same stories could be rehashed, only so many doomsday scenarios to outline, and only so many reruns of the President's and other world leaders' words. Sandra, at the insistence and with the help of the Keck staff, had changed her home phone and internet access in such a way that no one could track her down. To their credit, the news organizations who had already gathered on the Big Island agreed to give her, Wyler, and other known figures their individual privacy in return for regular updates. Federal security operatives, under the leadership of the FBI, had quickly moved into Waimea and were busy in the background. Sandra had found herself making many more statements to news organizations of one sort or another than she thought would ever had been the case, but had also grown used the process and had become well rehearsed in saying the same thing over and over again.

  Sandra's schedule had become more routine than it had been in several years. She was now perforce a night person, going on official duty at about dark and working till dawn. Because she didn't need much sleep, the astronomer would arrive at her office in mid-afternoon. Sandra had been regularly contacted by the President's office and the office of the Secretary General of the United Nations in New York. Part of the protective arrangements made by Wyler and the Keck staff had been establishment of a protocol for talking with any of the astronomers or administrators, requiring advance notice and written permission. The cooperating observatories around the world established similar protocols in their areas and agreed to release no new information without direct permission from Wyler or Hughes in Hawaii. All these arrangements had been made with the encouragement and backing of both the offices of the U.S. Pre
sident and the U.N. Secretary General.

  Even a thirty-three year old with a naturally good constitution and no self-destructive habits can go at full speed for only so long. If the last adjustment of its earth orbit for Asteroid 1744 is used as a starting date, twenty days had passed with absolutely no discernible change. Sandra began to develop an feeling that the asteroid denizens, if such there were, were in no hurry – in human terms – to give the people of earth any more information. Finally, on day twenty-one, by that above reckoning, the young astronomer who had – only partially willingly – become the “point person,” as some called her, for the human race as related to possible visitors from somewhere, decided to take a day off. Her colleague Stewart Arnold stepped into her shoes for the day and Sandra was advised by Reginald Wyler that the time had come to get far enough away that no one could quickly find her. To help her in the process, the Keck Observatory rented a car for her, suggesting she use it for a few days, trade it in for another one, and continue driving different cars until future notice.

  Carl Von Drath was waiting on his front porch when Sandra arrived. They'd not actually seen each other since the day she'd shared her early images of the asteroid with him – and the day they'd gone to the lecture on the Mars orbital mirror – but had talked several times by phone. The old man made his way toward her fancy new rental Buick as she pulled to a stop. His walk, it seemed to her, was a little more unstable than earlier, but the retired astronomer's eyes were as sharp as ever. His smile was warm, too.

  “Fame doesn't seem to have affected you, Dr. Hughes,” were his first words.

  “What fame, Carl?” she scoffed. “It's our big doughnut that's famous.” She yawned, giving away the fact that she wasn't used to being up and about in the late morning.

  “You're being modest, Sandra,” he continued, then began the slow process of getting into the passenger seat. Then he added, “Nice car.”

  “A rental. Reggie's idea. Thanks for spending the day with me, Carl. We've been needing to talk.”

  “Have we now? What can an old tree farmer such as myself have to say that's of any value?”

  “It's your accent, Carl,” she said smoothly. “I need to hear an authoritative accent. Anything you say will be valuable.”

  “Iz das recht?” he answered, forcing even more Teutonic into his manner of speaking. “Zo, if I were a younger man, then, I could woo you with my German accent, nicht wahr?”

  “Woo me, nothing,” she said as she gave him a falsely serious look. “I'd already be your love slave, Carl.”

  “That I would have trouble believing, Sandra. I know of no man that has ever interested you – in that way, I should say.”

  Sandra was suddenly sober. “I suppose I'm rather strange, am I not? Sorry.”

  “No reason for apology. Many men have claimed to not have time for romance. Have you not the same rights as a man?”

  Sandra had pulled away and they were now proceeding east toward the shore road that would lead them eventually to Hilo. She checked her rear view mirror, half way expecting to see a TV van or some other similar media vehicle following. But no one followed, as best she could discern. Clouds were low in all directions. A shower was ahead. Normal Big Island weather. She considered his comment a moment, then said, “Correct me if I'm wrong, Carl – seeing as how I've never been burdened by being male – but it would seem to me that the only men who'd make a comment about not having time for romance with women are homosexuals and liars. What about your famous testosterone? Has any man been able to conquer it fully?”

  Carl Von Drath gave her a wry look. “Age does have its advantages, Sandra. Testosterone can be overcome by time, if nothing else.”

  “Exactly,” she continued, as dogged in this discussion as in any. “Men were made to hit on women, as I see it. Survival of the race, and all, you know.”

  “I suppose one could make such a claim,” he admitted, eyes out to the right, examining a patch of trees they were passing. “And by the same token, then, we must say that women who enjoy being 'hit on', as you put it, would be more likely to perpetuate their genes.” He turned and gave her another smile.

  “I couldn't agree more, friend. Consequently, Sandra Hughes' genes are destined to not escape her generation.”

  “Tell me, Sandra, have you honestly no ... shall we say, romantic attraction to men?”

  The driver turned briefly his way. Her hair, as usual, was neat but not given much care, and her clothing was, as usual, clean but essentially unisex, namely, jeans and tee shirt. “Romantic attraction?” That’s a good question. She gave him a wan look. “I suppose I’m … well, I do … yes I do. But I can’t afford to let myself give in to it.”

  “Because you’re too busy with other, more important things?”

  She smiled at him. It seemed to light up the car. “Yes, right now I have other things I need to do. Whether they are important or not is yet to be determined.”

  “Do you indeed?” His eyes were more vivid than usual.

  “Carl, sometimes I think it would be nice, and less demanding, if I had a romantic attraction to women. Not there, though. Bad, huh?”

  “Not bad. You are you, after all. And right now, a woman carrying as large a burden as I can imagine.”

  “Naw, Carl. I don't really carry any burden. Let's not be melodramatic. All I can do is watch the sky and report. Any of a thousand astronomers could do that. I don't honestly believe anything we humans do is going to ... “ She stopped. Another turn of thought had crossed Sandra's mind. “I take that back. What I should say is that no amount of force or military action we take is going to matter to our asteroid green men. But what we as humans do may.” She was suddenly very quiet, driving a full mile without another word.

  Carl gave her those moments. Then he said, “Why do you think that, Sandra?”

  “Let me talk later,” she replied, now back with him. “I really want to hear your opinions of our amazing rock doughnut. We haven't had much time to discuss it, after all, and well ... those fools in Washington and New York keep coming back to me. How much they listen to me is an altogether different issue, however.” She lifted her eyebrows into a knowing look.

  “You make a good television image,” he offered. “And you don't intimidate those with testosterone poisoning.”

  “Right,” she replied in a mocking tone. “It's all about image, right?”

  “Right,” he said, without smiling.

  “So talk, Carl. I know you have a list of opinions as long as my arm.”

  “Everyone is talking about the asteroid, Sandra. I am very glad I lived long enough to be alive now.” Those words were his awkward kind of introduction. Sandra made no reply. Then he went on. “The world is suddenly ... is now a new world. The old words from the Bible, the book Ecclesiastes, you remember? Where it says, 'There is nothing new under the sun.' That, Sandra, no longer applies. The repeated cycles of life, of history, these things – they are gone.”

  Sandra looked over at him a few seconds, seeing the depth of his return gaze. She said, “Yes, Carl. We've been pulled up by the roots, haven't we?”

  “A telling metaphor, Sandra,” he nodded. “We can perhaps be re-planted but in a different place. It remains to be seen whether we will grow or not.”

  “You reacted stronger than I guessed, Carl.”

  “Perhaps because I am aware of the reality of the asteroid, Sandra.”

  “Reality? You mean, people doubt it's there?”

  “Not in the ... shall we say, absolute sense, no. People believe it is there. But most people do not have your depth of understanding – and through you, mine – of what the reality consists of. It is like a fairy tale to them, or some adventure movie perhaps.”

  “Yes,” Sandra nodded, “I see your point. There are times even I shake my head at myself and say 'Hey Sandra, come on! An asteroid with green men in it? Be serious!'“

  Carl Von Drath laughed. It was an old man's laugh, brightening his face as it amplifi
ed his wrinkles. “We will not know, of course, for a very long time what the full impact of the asteroid will be on us. But it is certain to be enormous.”

  “They're watching us, Carl. It has to be. Though how ...” She shrugged at the wheel.

  Carl seemed to be composing his thoughts for a while. Then he nodded his head and said, “I too think we are being watched. How they watch us I do not know either, of course. And why they watch us is a mystery.”

  “The most important mystery,” she interjected.

  “Yes,” he nodded his head. “Many people have imagined – and written books, too – about what would happen when a sentient race from somewhere else finally contacted us. But no scientist I have ever met has seriously thought we would actually have visitors. My thought – and most people's – was that someday we'd get a message from deep space.”

  “Yep, mine, too.” Sandra slowed as they proceeded through a shower. “That would have been exciting enough.”

  “Yet we have no message at all,” he pointed out. “We have no information about who the asteroid's controllers may be.”

  “Do you think there are beings on it?” she wondered.

  “I do. As you mentioned you do, as well. I find it difficult to believe they would send a such a large object here and send it unoccupied.”

  “Unless, Carl, it is simply a symbol. To show us they can send it. And, if so, pretty impressive, you have to admit.”

  “Yes, I do admit so,” he nodded. “How sure are you, Sandra, that the asteroid is actually number 1744?”

  “Quite certain, Carl. Our friends in Chile had some data on it. The old orbital parameters – put into the catalog by the Palomar folks – are identical with the ones computed by the Chileans. And the Chileans had some images. Poor resolution, of course. Unlikely that the asteroid had a hole in it then – though not absolutely proven.”