by M R Cates
“So the aliens, for some reason, selected one of our asteroids, so to speak, and ...” He changed his tack. “They must have somehow modified the asteroid to make it into a giant space ship.”
“A giant weapon, maybe, Carl. Why would they need a giant spaceship?”
“That,” he said firmly, “may be a very important question, Sandra.”
“What do you mean?” Sandra had them out of the rain now, and had sped up. The Pacific was in view when trees didn't block it. They were going downhill quickly.
“It is possible,” he said, “that the asteroid is a kind of habitat, as you yourself mentioned.”
“If so,” she pointed out, “why wouldn't they have needed it earlier? Since they had to pick it up after they got into the solar system.”
“So you assume,” said Carl, “that they came by some kind of space ship, modified the asteroid and turned it into a weapon to use on us if they decided to?”
“That's one scenario, at least. Some from the President's cadre of think tanks have brought that up from the very beginning.”
The old man said, “So the space ship is docked on the side we cannot see?”
“Presumably. Or taken inside the rock or melted down for spare parts, or whatever.”
“It is odd, Sandra, that the asteroid was taken over and then put into a different orbit. If it were being held as a weapon – knowing what they have already done – they could have selected any similar body from space and thrown it at us after they decided they needed to.”
Sandra summarized, “So a kind of habitat that is important now that they're here, but wouldn't have been while they were on the way.”
“Yes, but I can't think why such a thing could be true.”
“We have no idea what their life forms are,” she reminded him.
“What if it's only a display? What if there are not aliens on Asteroid 1744? Maybe they sent a robot device of some kind there that could take over and control asteroids?
Sandra nodded. “Even fifteen-mile-in-diameter asteroids? Do you realize how huge that thing is?”
“Enormous,” he confirmed, nodding. “That size is why people must think it may be a weapon.”
“Yes, that's quite a reasonable assumption. I am very curious about what their spaceship might look like. The one that took them to the asteroid. Could they be very large creatures and always need something monstrous?”
Carl shrugged. “It's interesting we didn't see the approaching spaceship, then.”
“Maybe we did,” she said, eyes brightening, “but don't know it. At least ten telescopes big enough to see something a lot smaller than 1744 are looking at the sky every night.”
“Did the think-tanks not mention that possibility?” he asked.
“Oh, they probably did. But not that I heard. Nor has there been any call that I know of to go back and look at old images.”
“Curious indeed,” said the old man.
Sandra put a hand up to rub her head. “You know what, I know pretty much where to look, actually. So I think I will. The Chilean scope has data of Asteroid 1744 from four and a half months ago, before its orbit changed. I can start with those.”
Carl shifted a little uncomfortably. Riding in a car was not especially easy for him. “The aliens may have been on the asteroid a long time before changing its course.”
She nodded. “Yes, but once they started changing it they changed it a lot.”
“It is possible that they were there for centuries, Sandra, before making their move. Who knows how they understand time?”
“Good point. But I'll look, nonetheless. Need something to do until they decide to answer us.”
“Will they, Sandra?”
“I'm thinking yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they've gone to all this trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Stealing an asteroid and putting it into orbit around earth is a lot of trouble in my book.”
“But what about their book?”
“Got me there, Carl. I just don't know. It's a damn confusing situation. That's why I love it.” She raised her eyebrows again, in lieu of an actual smile.
“When do you think they'll contact us? After all, we've given them a good chance already. Can they not have picked up the radio signals every piece of the news media have been playing over and over again till we all know the words by heart?”
“They'll contact us when they damn well please,” she said. “I get the impression they are not concerned about any timetable we may have. They're going to think a while – or whatever they do that we call thinking – then they'll contact us.”
“Why should they, Sandra?”
“Damned if I know, but why else would they go to all the trouble of getting here and letting us know they were here?”
“Perhaps they couldn't prevent us from knowing they were here, but really don't have anything to say to us.”
“Carl, maybe.” She glanced at him. “In that case, they presumably will do something. If they don't have anything to say they must have something to do. I just hope whatever it is doesn't include dropping 1744 into the Pacific ocean.”
Chapter 11
Asteroid 1744 had moved through about half its orbit around the earth, and was below the plane of the ecliptic, low in the sky for the twin Kecks. The Chilean telescope, however, was able to record excellent images. Sandra’s background routines and upgraded atmospheric distortion laser systems had recently been installed on that Andean peak, strengthening their capabilities significantly. Nevertheless, so little had been happening with respect to 1744 that the time had come to reconsider their efforts. Even Sandra had gotten impatient, verging on bored, with the observation tasks. The administrative organizations of all the involved telescopes had begun to ask questions indicating their own restlessness. Other telescopes around the world had long ceased extended observation of the asteroid, turning to it only occasionally. Sandra had spent almost all her time researching records of observations of the night sky that might give some clue about the arrival of whatever ship or object brought the aliens to the asteroid in its original orbit. She was putting together a significant dossier on the work. Wyler and she had met daily to coordinate the “asteroid program,” as it was called, and had decided, on May 23rd, to discontinue the double surveillance – having two telescopes constantly pointed at the asteroid.
In Sandra's sense of things, however, it made no sense to her that the enigmatic object would enter earth orbit then do nothing else. She understood, of course, that the sense of time of the alien controllers might be radically different from hers. Around the world, similar feelings were being expressed among experts and amateurs, those in authority and those not. A few people, from here and there, however, were beginning to make public statements implying that the whole Asteroid 1744 sequence of events had indeed been an accidental sequence of events arising from some kind of internal dynamic suddenly released from the asteroid's core in a series of orbit-changing ejections. Though few knowledgeable people believed the “accident” theory, it was plausible enough to many, since nothing dramatic had actually happened. Most people, in fact, and world over, had simply continued with their daily lives and had begun to lose interest in the asteroid. Not that the latent potential for arousal of interest had been forgotten. The world was certainly not about to return to the conditions before March 1st. Something of a palpable change had apparently been sensed almost everywhere on earth. There was indeed a level of international brotherhood that had been awakened in many people, even the group of leaders in control of the major nations on earth. Not that political bickering ended, but the tone seemed to have moderated. How long this would continue – most realized – would be a function of what actually transpired with Asteroid 1744.
This was the atmosphere around her when Dr. Sandra Hughes decided, with Reginald Wyler's full concurrence, to make the visit to Spain that she had promised herself and Frederico Constanza she would make.
Sandra decided, in fact, to visit all the institutes in their four-telescope consortium, starting in Spain. These decisions had taken place primarily because of a benefactor in Washington, D.C., namely, the United States Department of Defense. President McBrand had made the request, through his Secretary of Defense, for funding to be sent to the Keck Observatory to finance the ongoing study of Asteroid 1744. He also had petitioned the United Nations for similar support, as well as those nations, Spain, South Africa, and Chile, where the other monitoring telescopes were located. Every organization involved cooperated, leaving Sandra Hughes in an enviable position of having several million dollars in funding that she really didn't know what to do with. In her mind they had all the staff needed at Keck Observatory to evaluate the asteroid. She herself, in fact, was all she figured was needed. This was another indicator of Sandra's natural confidence, but it showed a level of naiveté that Sandra herself eventually recognized had been there. The task at hand was truly more than she, or anyone else, could handle. Wyler had suggested that an additional full-time astronomer should be hired, along with several technicians that could help deal with the details of telescope operation and the large quantity of data that needed to be analyzed. Sandra had made herself see his point and agreed that it would be nice to have that kind of help. Then she had taken the time, along with Wyler and several others on the staff, to interview five prospective astronomer candidates that had been flown to Hawaii. A candidate had been chosen and the job offer submitted. Probably the new astronomer would be on duty before she returned from Europe. The technicians, in a certain sense, were harder to find, but one had already been hired, a young man from Kauai who held a master's degree in computational science. This new hire, named Jason Nagato, was in fact, an important reason that Sandra could feel less concerned about being away from the Kecks for a time. Nagato – on the job now only twelve days – was busy sorting through and processing data that Sandra herself had begun.
It had been Wyler's suggestion that she take the tour of the cooperating institutions. Sandra had urged him to go in her stead, but he was adamant. Since the mild mannered director rarely stood his ground against Sandra, she figured he truly meant it, so she relented and began making plans to go. Spain would be her first stop because she had already made a tentative commitment to go there. In her own mind, it had been her first choice not because of the discussions with Rico Constanza but because of the promise she'd made to the student, Françoise Marnier, who had been so effective in helping her track down the asteroid.
Sandra decided to stop in Texas on her way to Spain. It would be a good opportunity both to see her sister and also to not have to visit with her too long. Debbie lived in Austin. It was a nice layover spot for the long haul half way around the world, and it also happened to be a town Sandra had a warm affection for. The only drawback was that late May in Austin was likely to be very hot indeed. Despite living in the tropics, Sandra was not a lover of warm weather.
Deborah Laine Hughes McAnn, Sandra's sister, had been amazed at the sudden light of fame that had flashed onto her older sibling. Debbie had always looked up to Sandra and had never felt herself worthy of comparison. The younger sensed that the older was on some kind of higher plane than she, but never would Debbie have guessed that Sandra would become a true international celebrity. And it was absolutely the last thing Debbie would have guessed that Sandra would seek. Of course she knew the fame was not sought; it simply occurred, mostly because Sandra was doing her job. Debbie struggled with herself because of confusing feelings about Sandra's new notoriety. There had always been a certain bitterness against her sibling because of a deep awareness that she, the younger, would never be the intellectual peer of the older. Consequently, Debbie had concentrated on the social, on the interpersonal, indeed on the aspects of herself that emphasized the female. Those were areas she knew Sandra had little interest in, and therefore open to competition. Now, in one fell swoop of public attention, Sandra seemed also to have bested her there. The news stories featuring her sister often spoke of Sandra's charm, her beauty, and other qualities that Sandra herself would never claim to have. In a strictly objective sense, Debbie knew the news stories were pandering to what the public wanted to hear, not what Sandra was truly like. Nonetheless, it stung Debbie's pride, worsening her self image another notch.
Debbie had dutifully and with genuine warmth – though not without hesitation – called and congratulated her sister when the news of the asteroid broke. It was a gesture Sandra had truly appreciated since Debbie was rarely the one to call. The two had spoken several times over the weeks since March 1st. Sandra had always seemed the same as ever to Debbie, adding even more irritation. Could nothing touch Sandra? This sister of hers was the “ultimate nerd,” in Debbie's mind. Even Sandra's numerous appearances on television had reinforced this feeling: nearly always the astronomer was in some variation of her standard outfit, jeans, shirt, and sneakers. The closest she came to being actually dressed up was during a press conference aired around the world. Sandra, for that occasion, had relented to put on blue slacks and a white shirt. But she had still worn sneakers!
It had been something of a surprise to Debbie that Sandra suggested she would stop by Austin for a few days on the way to Europe. The first reaction Debbie had – but not expressed – was to wish Sandra would not come. Being with her prestigious sister she felt would be something of an embarrassment for her, since the contrast between them would be so much more evident when they were in fact next to each other. But Debbie quickly adjusted her thinking. Blood, after all, is thicker than water. Sandra was her only close relative, and lived so far away from Texas that their time together was truly precious. Besides, Sandra would be something special for Debbie to show off to her friends – assuming Sandra gave her any opportunity in that direction. Finally – and most importantly – Debbie really had missed her, and the events relating to the asteroid only made her miss her more. Being reminded of your sister daily can hardly do less.
Debbie had turned twenty-eight on the third of February. In appearance, she was much like her sister, with blond-verging-on-brown hair, medium build, and strong regular features. Both sisters could be said to be attractive, though only Debbie took pains to make the description accurate. When Sandra was thirteen, Debbie eight, their parents died in a commuter plane crash on the way to Minneapolis from San Antonio. The tragedy of their deaths was compounded by the fact that there was only an aunt on one side of the family – their mother's sister – and an aged grandmother on the father's side. Their father had been an only child, with his father dying before the girls were born. The maternal grandparents were both still alive but very infirmed and under constant care. Neither would survive two more years. So Debbie and Sandra had moved in with their Aunt Rachel, a divorced woman without much good to say about men in general and marriage in particular. Rachel was caring but only marginally competent. When Debbie finished high school Rachel married an older man of Guatemalan citizenship and moved out of the country. Rarely did she and the nieces communicate after that point.
As Sandra had moved through the trauma of puberty she became increasingly more withdrawn and more academic. Debbie, a few years later, became a social butterfly, a flirt, and eventually, as Sandra would put it, “a certifiable slut.” Debbie was pregnant at seventeen, had the child aborted, and not long after her eighteenth birthday was married to the spoiled son of a wealthy Austin businessman. The young man's name was Justin McAnn. Their marriage lasted five months, ending after Debbie discovered her husband in compromising association with a friend of hers from the University of Texas, where both she and Justin were enrolled. At that point, Debbie swore off marriage, but not men. Her life style continued unabated while Sandra's academic life swelled to heroic proportions.
Sandra graduated from Trinity University in San Antonio with a perfect 4.0 average, entered the graduate school at the University of Texas and completed her MS in Astrophysics two years later, just as her little sister and br
other-in-law were struggling with their freshman year. Debbie dropped out of school shortly after her divorce and began working as a secretary and office assistant for a medical practice in Austin. Sandra moved on to the University of Chicago for her doctoral program. It only took her another two years to finish, at the springtime age of twenty-five. By the time she entered the job market, Sandra had already published sixteen papers in astrophysics and become the unquestioned rising star among science graduate students at Chicago. Her dream had been to work at the Keck Observatory, so she applied there a year before completing her degree program. More than a hundred other aspiring astronomers applied for the same job. Sandra got it. Something remarkable about her as scientist seemed to show, as if it were painted in gold on her forehead.
In all those years Sandra Hughes had perhaps a half dozen dates, total. She determined before finishing graduate school that sex, marriage, and motherhood were not in the cards for her. But Sandra had no regrets. She felt herself married to the twin Kecks, often teasing herself that she had two husbands. When Reginald Wyler had shown a romantic interest in her – in respectful due time, waiting a couple of years after she joined his staff – she had told him a simple truth: “Reggie, if any man could win my heart, you would be the guy.” It took Wyler, and to a lesser extent, several other eligible men associated with the astronomy programs centered in Waimea, some while to accommodate Sandra's stand, but the word was finally out. Sandra Hughes was not available. She, in effect, had become “one of the boys,” a status that strengthened her ability to work with her mostly-male peers and allowed her, to a large extent, the same kind of freedom of action that men had.
Meanwhile, Deborah Hughes McAnn's trophy case of men was stuffed full. Only recently, as she pushed closer to thirty, had she started to reevaluate herself. At present, in Austin, Debbie had done reasonably well for herself in some important ways. She had not fallen under the sway of drugs or alcohol and had moved into a respectable administrative position in one of the area hospitals. There were a group of friends she felt reasonably close to, and her romantic interests had become more organized into a sequence of monogamous relationships. She had also begun taking courses at night at the university, thinking of eventually gaining a degree in business administration. With an academic degree under her belt, Deborah McAnn could hope to be a senior hospital administrator someday. She also had modified her goals with respect to men, reserving the possibility that Mr. Right might come along after all, and if so she'd grab him.