by M R Cates
—
Sandra's plane landed in Austin on June 1st, exactly three months after the world had begun to change in ways that were inevitable but still poorly understood. Debbie was standing just outside the security corridor dressed in a short green dress and sandals, wearing a big genuine grin. She was not the least surprised to see her sister in blue jeans, man's short sleeve oxford cloth shirt, and sneakers, but she was taken aback a little by the sunglasses and hairdo. The disguise plan worked. No one, apparently, would expect to see the most famous astronomer in the world on a commercial flight into Austin, Texas, especially in an outfit that made her look like a college student on summer vacation.
After their hugged greetings the two sisters made their way through the horrible traffic of the Texas capital city into the heart of town, only blocks from the campus of the University of Texas. The air was a little too heavy and too caustic in flavor to suit Sandra's taste, but did carry a strong olfactory reminder of her past. She had asked to go to a favorite Mexican food restaurant the two had spent many hours in many years before. The place was called “Casita de Tia,” or approximately in English, “auntie's little place.” It had not changed at all, still with only nine square tables, each with a unique brightly decorated table cloth. The walls were full of garish Mexican and Central American souvenirs, including calendars in Spanish, felt images of beautiful senoritas and bull fighters, beaded designs of exotic birds, painted gourds, and the like. And by very good luck their favorite table – that is, their favorite table cloth – was empty and they clambered to seat themselves there before someone else got it. The table cloth was bright yellow with brilliant blue and red images of hacienda buildings, courtyards, and stuccoed churches. The patterns were less artistic than overt. And they'd always made both sisters smile.
It was nice to settle into the relative quietness of the restaurant. Their conversation had been fairly general, concentrating a lot on Austin traffic and Sandra's negative reaction to the outside temperature, which that day was expected to reach 96 degrees. As they started into their food, however – chiles relleños for Sandra and carnitas for Debbie – they began what Sandra would call a “real conversation.”
“Are you scared about that asteroid, Sandy?” Debbie asked.
Only Debbie, of all the people she knew, called her Sandy. In fact, Debbie was the only person she'd let call her Sandy.
“Concerned might be a better word,” was the answer.
“Why's that? You know, it's being talked about all the time. It's incredible, you know. All so ... so weird. Like a kind of science fiction thing. Most people have a hard time thinking it's real, but they know it is. And to think, my big sister is right in the middle of ...”
Sandra interrupted, “I was just the right place at the right time – or wrong time – that's all.” The older sister pointed a fork at the other in a gesture she'd often used as they grew up together, indicating a certain level of irritation at the implication.
“Sure, but you ... well, I'm glad you were in the right place at the wrong time.” Debbie sounded more like a little sister with that last statement.
“Me, too, actually.” Sandra took in her sister's eyes quickly. “But as to what's going on with the big doughnut, I don't have a clue.”
Debbie said, “You keep hearing everything from an invasion of little green men to a death ray coming out of thing and burning earth to a cinder. But not much that isn't scary.”
Sandra shrugged. “People like scary stuff. Besides, if you think up a bunch of scary ideas, you're likely to be better prepared, psychologically, if something bad does happen. And scary stories sell more papers.”
“Guess so. But ... well, can't you just guess a little, Sandy? What do you think is going on with it?”
“You heard me on those news conferences,” Sandra reminded her, adding a kind of half smile.
“Come on, you didn't really say anything. And you know it. Tell me what you really think.”
Sandra looked around the small room. No one seemed to be paying them any mind except a couple of young men – around college age – who eyed them in the manner of guys everywhere checking out girls. She said to her sister, “Okay, maybe I should bounce some ideas off you, Debbie. In case you don't know it, you've always had a great imagination. You can probably help.”
“Ha, not me. You're the smart one, remember. I'm the certified slut.” “That was not my best, or most sensitive, comment,” Sandra said. “Because I'm also the one with the temper.” She put a hand out and stroked her sister's upper arm. “Stop taking me seriously, okay? I'm full of opinions, but don't really believe any of them myself.” She glanced toward a small group of people who seemed to be looking their way, then turned back to Debbie.
Debbie waited till her sister's eyes returned and said, “I remember you used to say that's what a good scientist was, Sandy, someone full of opinions they really didn't believe.”
“Yep, and still true.”
“I'm ready for your idea bouncing,” Debbie said.
“Okay.” Sandra checked the room again, then said, “Here's what I think right now. This asteroid is some kind of habitat for some kind of alien life form. Don't know if it's one alien or a bunch of them.”
“Why do you think it's a ... what was that, a habitat?”
“Because, well it's so big. Fifteen miles across. Why not just use a space ship of some kind unless you want – or need – a big habitat?”
“Maybe,” Debbie shrugged, “it's easier to just grab an asteroid and make it into a space ship than to build one in the first place.”
“Hmm. Maybe. In any case, I think there is something or someone or a bunch of somethings or someones on that asteroid, or maybe inside it.”
“Hollow?”
Sandra smiled. “Damn, you're pretty quick, sis. I did some calculations with some of the data we've taken on the thing. Tried to estimate the thrust when it was making the plasma plume – remember that purple trail coming out of the doughnut hole?”
“Right.”
“Well, I came up with a guesstimate that the asteroid wasn't as massive as I'd first guessed. Unless the density is very low – and it really can't be that low – the doughnut has to be hollow. It's still a huge guy though – three or four hundred cubit miles.”
“Neat.” Debbie took a swig of Negro Modelo. “So, if it's hollow, then the green men are living inside it – maybe eating the rock.” She grinned.
“Maybe mining it, or some such thing. They probably made their plasma from it.”
“Plasma? Oh, right, the purple trail.”
“Their rocket, Debbie, if you want to call it that. They had to produce an enormous amount of trust to shift the asteroid into an earth orbit, especially as quickly as they did.”
“Really?” Debbie’s brow furrowed. “So they hollowed it out to make ... well, their rocket, then?”
“That's my guess.”
Sandra looked over her shoulder at some movement. Several people were approaching them. One, a tall man of middle age, spoke out, still several feet away. “Excuse me, aren't you Dr. Hughes? The asteroid discoverer?” His comment caused several additional heads to turn.
“I suppose so,” Sandra said, unsure of what to say. Instantly she wished they weren't there.
The man had piercing eyes and was dressed rather formally for Austin. There was a certain defiance in his tone as he spoke. “I wonder if you are aware that your work is in vain, Dr. Hughes?”
Sandra looked at him, trying to have a neutral expression. A mixed crowd, mostly younger people, was also starting their way.
Debbie looked at her sister, keeping her own mouth shut. Sandra said, “Sir, I can't see that my work has any direct involvement with you.”
The man stopped only a few feet away. “The wrath of God is being visited upon the Earth, doctor. It is important that you be warned not to try to interfere in God's plan.”
“Well, thank you for the warning,” Sandra said, very quietly.<
br />
The group of young people were now surrounding the table. One of them, a twenty-ish girl with several piercings and dressed in cutoff jeans as close to violation of decency codes as possible, said, “Hey, Dr. Hughes, tell us about the big rock, okay?”
There were murmurs of assent from the other young people. By this time every eye in the place had turned their way. All background noise had ceased.
Sandra suddenly stood, saying, “I suggest you folks (referring to the young people) discuss it with this gentleman here. He seems to have some inside information.” Then she looked directly at the man.
He looked deterred, but only for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts to say something else.
“We're about to leave, I'm sorry,” Sandra continued. She glanced at Debbie, who quickly came to her feet, leaving most of her food and half of her beer unconsumed. “Excuse us,” continued Sandra as she stepped forward, sensing that direct confrontation was the best tack.
Before the man or the crowd could fully react the two sisters were gone, out the door in full retreat and down the street to their car.
Chapter 12
The next morning Debbie had to go into work and Sandra spent almost the entire day on the phone and computer catching herself up on activities within the consortium tracking the asteroid. When Debbie got home – a little early – Sandra had arranged on her sister's coffee table a chilled bottle of Texas Chardonnay, two glasses, and a bowl of the macadamia nuts she'd brought with her from Hawaii.
Debbie looked in odd contrast to her sister, still wearing a navy blue skirt and white blouse, pantyhose, and heels, her outfit from work. As she sat she asked, “Why is that thing shaped like a donut?” She grinned at her sister.
Sandra laughed. “It’s important to our little green men.”
“Why?”
“Doesn't make any other sense to me. I saw information on 1744 from a couple of years ago. It gave no indication of being any odd shape.”
“No indication?”
“Right. With the Kecks we were the first to actually do a well-resolved image of it. But reflectance patterns and a few other things help us estimate how regular an asteroid's shape is. Good ol' 1744 was almost certainly a nice round hunk of rock. Before the green men got hold of it.”
Debbie stood up. “I've got to change, Sandy. Can't stand these clothes. 'Specially seeing you looking so comfortable. But what's unusual about a doughnut anyway? Why would that be better somehow for the aliens? Better than a ball.”
Sandra followed her sister into the room while the latter got out of her work clothes and shoes into denim shorts and short-sleeved shirt, shoeless. “I think,” Sandra said, during this process, “it must have something to do with the toroid shape – the doughnut shape.”
“What's different about it?” Debbie said this in the process of pulling up her shorts. She was looking over at her sister as she spoke.
“It's like a long rolled up cylinder,” Sandra replied, as much to herself as to the other. “Roughly the equivalent of a cylinder forty or forty-five kilometers long. And only about, say three kilometers in radius, or maybe even a little less. Like a tube with the two ends folded around to meet.”
“So?” Debbie had turned, changing complete, hands on hips to face Sandra.
“So, I don't know. The aliens, for their own damn reasons, like doughnuts better than balls.”
Debbie laughed. “Like the difference between you and me. You like doughnuts and I like balls.”
Sandra shook her head. “Damn but you do. And what have balls done for you but cause trouble?”
“They can be fun, Sandy. But you wouldn't know.”
“No I wouldn't. Say, have you heard anything from Justin in a while?”
Debbie's smile faded. “No. The bastard. You know he's married?”
“No, I didn't. Shouldn't have mentioned him.”
“Damn right you shouldn't. Let's talk about your asteroid. What's going to happen?”
“Happen? You mean, what's the asteroid going to do?”
“Exactly.” They were on their way back to the wine and macadamias.
It took the older sister a few moments to respond. She was already piled back into the armchair before she did. “They're not going to just sit up there in orbit around earth. I'd bet on that.”
“Why not? Maybe that's all they wanted. Maybe the doughnut is some kind of religious symbol, put in orbit to say they'd been here, or claimed earth or something.”
“Possible.” Sandra poured her second glass, lowering the wine level in the bottle to about a third full. “Or even a marker for the big, bad space battleship to come by later on and vaporize us.” Sandra grinned, surprising Debbie. “Sure all of that is possible, but not likely. Remember, Deb, they used a horrendous amount of energy to re-shape then move that asteroid. A big waste for a marker or symbol or whatever. And we can't expect a space-traveling race to be hopelessly stuck in some kind of superstitious tradition.”
“Why not? We humans do weird stuff, too, and we're supposedly civilized.”
“Fair comment, Deb. But I still don't believe it. I believe they did what they did for a very specific purpose – or set of purposes, maybe. The doughnut is in orbit right where they want it. And I'm still betting the green men are inside the damn thing. Or something is inside the damn thing.”
“Something?”
“Something that needs or likes the shape or the size or the rock or all of the above.”
It was Debbie's turn to muse quietly for a minute. When Debbie concentrated she was not that different from her sibling. Sandra knew that if Debbie didn't.
“Look, Sandy,” Debbie finally said, “let's say you're right about these green men. Let's say they're in the asteroid, looking at us.”
Sandra shrugged an acceptance of the premise.
Debbie continued, “We have to figure out why they're looking at us.”
“Why do we, Debbie?”
“Because they may not like what they see.”
“Maybe they won't, but what could we do about it, even if we knew?”
Debbie looked Sandra directly in the eye. “We misjudge people all the time, Sandy – at least I do. And I'm a person. I mean, people are my race. If I can mess up big time, what wouldn't the aliens mess up even bigger time?” Her tone had gotten more agitated. “What I'm saying is that just because we humans do stupid things doesn't mean we can't get more and more useful.”
It was Sandra’s turn to be the questioner. “Useful?”
“To the universe, or whatever. I don't know. But ... don't you think life has some kind of purpose? I mean, are we just here by accident?”
“Interesting, sis,” Sandra said, meaning it. “So maybe they're evaluating our usefulness, however that's understood by them, anyway.”
“Maybe they are. Can't we expect that they're ... well, they must know more about the universe than we do.”
“Probably. But do they know more about what 'usefulness' is, to the universe, say?”
Debbie sipped at her glass. “Could be. But even if they don't, what they think is pretty important. Since they can hurt us, probably, if they want to.”
“So all the magazines on the newsstand, every kook and his brother on the Net, and all the talk radio hosts tell us,” Sandra nodded, a little mockery in her voice.
“Well, what could we do about them, even if we wanted to?”
Older sister looked at younger. “Not a damn thing.”
“So we need to find out what they want?”
“How, Deb? First of all, they don't give any indication they know we're sending them signals. And in the meantime, every hotshot in every think tank in the world is trying to figure out how to find out what they want, if anything, and I'll be damned if I've heard anybody come up with a plan.”
“Why don't you come up with one, Sandy?”
“Me?”
“Sure. You've got your precious telescopes. Your two husbands.” Debbie gave her sister a k
nowing look.
“My two husbands. Right. I miss the guys, actually.”
“Give you orgasms, don't they?” Debbie suggested.
“Damned straight they do. Sometimes I even think they like me, too.”
“If they're male, probably not, Sandy.”
“Guess not. But at least I get my kicks, right?”
“Same with my guys, Sandy. They just don't have any other uses. At least your two do.”
Both laughed.
—
Sandra said goodbye to Debbie with more sadness than she expected. Something of a stronger common bond seemed to have been forged. The presence of a Sword of Damocles above the world was certain to do many things, but Debbie seemed to have changed more – in Sandra's view – than the asteroid could be given credit for.
Once more Dr. Sandra Hughes managed to get to her destination without being identified. But it had taken a high-level communiqué to airport and airline officials all along her route to make it possible. Sandra had been given a pseudonym by the European Astronomical Society, the official sponsor of her trip to Spain, and saw it displayed on a sign held by a middle aged distinguished-looking man at the Madrid airport.
“I'm Alexandra Jones,” she said to the man, adding a slight smile, briefly removing her sunglasses.
“Welcome to Spain and Europe, Ms Jones,” came his response. The man actually blushed a little. “I'm Frederico Constanza. How pleasant to meet you in person.”