Danny Dunn and the Voice from Space

by Raymond Abrashkin

  “And I think it’s just possible that life might find a way of adapting to a binary system, as we call it. When you think of all the ways in which things manage to live on our own earth—in blazing deserts, under enormous pressure on the sea bottom, even near the poles—all that’s needed is for conditions to be right for life to start. And I think 61 Cygni may provide those conditions. Anyway, I’m going to try. I’m going to give the order when I go back to the observatory to put the aerial on that source. It’s a long shot, but we’ve only got tonight and two more days left.”

  Irene put her fork down and bent forward eagerly. “Suppose you got a message. What would it be like?” she asked.

  “Well,” said Dr. Badger, “it might be a simple mathematical statement. Suppose we got a buzz and then another kind of sound, and then a buzz, and then a completely different sound, and then two buzzes—”

  “One plus one equals two?”

  “Right. That would tell us, perhaps, that we were dealing with intelligent life which reasoned as we do. It would also give us plus and equals, so we’d know two words of their radio language.”

  “Big deal. All that work to send word across space that one and one equals two,” Joe protested.

  “Yes, but it might not be ‘one and one make two,’ ” said Danny. “It might be five code letters spelling the word olopoo.”

  “Huh? Olopoo?” Dr. Badger blinked. “I don’t think I know that word.”

  “Well, that’s just it. It might be the way you say hello in their language,” said Danny.

  Professor Bullfinch laughed as Dr. Badger rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.

  “That’s one of the problems, my boy,” said the Professor. “Not only deciphering their language, but understanding their ideas. They might think so differently from the way we do that we couldn’t begin to figure out what their message says.”

  He grew grave. “The important thing would be to know that it was a message from another world. It would mean that we are not alone in the universe.”

  There was a silence when he finished, as each person thought for a moment about the meaning of that awesome idea. Then Dr. Badger pushed his chair back.

  “Well, I’m off,” he said. “As it’s so lovely out, I think I’ll walk to the observatory. Are you coming, Al?”

  Dr. Miller patted his stomach. “I’m going to have an after-dinner cigar, and then I’ll drive out and meet you,” he said.

  “I’ll come along with Alvin,” said the Professor, beginning to fill his pipe.

  The children excused themselves and left the table with Dr. Badger. They said goodbye to him and ran out to the garden to meet Meg, who was cleaning the snakes’ cage. She had the two grass snakes draped around her neck like ribbons, and they lifted their heads sleepily when Irene ran her finger along their dry, smooth, warm scales.

  “Wouldn’t it be funny if on another planet people looked like snakes?” said Irene.

  Danny twitched his shoulders. “Don’t keep talking about other planets,” he said, irritably.

  “Why, Danny!” Irene said, in astonishment. “What’s wrong?”

  He kicked at the floor. “Other planets, space, messages—oh, heck! It’s just driving me crazy, that’s all. Here we are, we came all this way and I had such hopes of being in the observatory—and specially being there if something exciting happened—and we can’t even go near the place.”

  “I’m sorry,” Meg said, humbly. “You’re right to be angry. It was all my fault.”

  “Ah, forget it, Meg,” said Danny. “We were all in on it. If you had asked me about taking Mr. Parsley, I’d have said yes, too. Who’d ever guess anything like that would happen? Or that Sir Edward would get so mad? I’m not angry, anyway; it just makes me feel so low.”

  Joe shook his head. Not being able to think of anything to say, he punched Danny lightly on the arm.

  Danny looked up, his lips tight, the light of battle in his eye. Joe backed away. But his friend wasn’t even thinking about him.

  “Do you know what I’m going to do?” Danny said. “I’m going out there. Tonight!”

  “Out—out there?” Joe stuttered. “You mean—outer space?”

  Danny couldn’t help laughing. “No, you nut. To the observatory.”

  “Dan, you wouldn’t!” Irene said. “Sir Edward might—”

  “Sir Edward won’t be there,” Danny retorted. “He almost never comes at night. And he certainly won’t come when I plan to go, because I’m going after everybody else is in bed. It’s only a mile from here, on a nice, easy road.”

  “But what will you do when you get there?” asked Joe. “Won’t Dr. Badger and Irene’s father fuss about it?”

  “I just want to peek in through the window,” Danny said. “Just to watch them for a while. Gosh, you heard Dr. Badger. He’s going to try that new star. I’d just—well, I’d just bust if I wasn’t there and they got a signal.”

  “You’re right.” Irene nodded vigorously. “I’m going with you.”

  “Swell!” said Danny.

  “What about you, Meg?” Irene said.

  “Ooh, no, I wouldn’t dare. I’d be afraid of meeting Sir Edward, no matter what Danny says. I think I’d better stay at home.”

  “Same here,” said Joe decisively. “I’m going to roll up in my nice warm blankets, and I’ll wake up long enough to think of you two walking down that dark road in the cold. It’s probably crawling with ghosts, too. Good luck!”

  CHAPTER 11

  “Something’s Coming In!”

  It was nearing midnight and the house was still, when Danny got up softly. He had gone to bed with his clothes on and all he had to do was put on his sneakers. As he was lacing them by the moonlight that came in through the window, Joe mumbled from under the bedclothes, “Is it time?”

  “Yes, I’m just going.”

  “Uh-huh.” Joe crawled out of bed, groaning, and began to struggle into his jeans and shirt.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Danny demanded.

  “What do you think? You don’t expect me to walk to the observatory in my pajamas, do you?”

  “Oh.” Dan drew a deep breath, grinning happily. “Good.”

  “Good? I hate it. But I can’t let you face ghosts alone. Anyway, you’d probably get lost without me.”

  They slipped into the hall. A flashlight went on, suddenly, making them both jump. Irene whispered, “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for hours.”

  “Hours?”

  “Well, five minutes, anyway. Let’s go.” They went down the creaking stair holding their breath, and out into the silvery night. Things looked quite different, but they found the road without much trouble and soon branched off into the lane which led to the observatory. Once, they had a fright when a small animal burst out of the hedge and ran across the road in front of them, but otherwise they got to the edge of the field without incident.

  They struck out across the open field toward the lights of the station.

  Peeping through a small window on one side of the building, they saw Dr. Badger at the desk, writing in a notebook, and Dr. Miller lounging drowsily in a chair nearby. Professor Bullfinch wasn’t to be seen. A pot of coffee and two cups stood on the table among the papers. As they watched, Dr. Miller stretched and yawned. He sat up and reached for a cup. Swinging around in his chair, he was just lifting the coffee to his lips when he saw the eavesdroppers.

  His hand jerked. Coffee jumped out and splashed to the floor.

  The three dodged back out of sight.

  “Let’s run!” said Joe.

  The window was flung open behind them.

  “Irene!” said Dr. Miller in the kind of father’s voice which stops children in their tracks.

  “Y-y-yes, Daddy,” Irene faltered.

  “It is you. And Danny and Joe, eh? I thoug
ht I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. Come in here—right now, please.”

  Sheepishly, the three walked around to the side entrance. Dr. Miller let them in, and they followed him into the control room. There they stood with their heads hanging, while Dr. Miller and Dr. Badger eyed them in silence.

  Then Dr. Miller, his voice trembling between annoyance and amusement, said, “I might have suspected something like this would happen. Your idea, Dan?”

  “Yes, sir.” Danny raised his head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Miller. But we just couldn’t stand not knowing—”

  Dr. Badger glanced at one of the clocks. “Twelve thirty-seven. Kind of late to be wandering around, isn’t it?”

  “We weren’t actually wandering,” Danny murmured. “We knew where we were going.”

  Dr. Miller bit his lip, and then burst out laughing. “You are all three the most awful— the most—oh, never mind. Now that you’re here, you may as well stay for a few minutes.”

  “Hold on, Al,” Dr. Badger said, worriedly. “What about Sir Edward?”

  “Hmm. True.”

  “But I thought you said he almost never comes here at night?” said Danny.

  “Almost never. But today, he and Professor Bullfinch made up again—you know, after your escapade with that monkey things were very tense between them. Sir Edward would only speak to the Professor very formally and stiffly. But as I say, today they got over it. They went off together, this evening, to a discussion and meeting at the Royal Radar Establishment in Malvern. They said they might come by after it was over to tell us about it and to check on how things were going here.

  “I hate to say it, but I think maybe I’d better drive you home.”

  He put an arm around his daughter’s neck. “Sorry, hon. It’s for your own good.”

  She sighed. Danny said, mournfully, “I don’t suppose you’ve had any success anyway, have you?”

  “Not a peep.” He nodded toward a digital computer in which a roll of paper tape was slowly moving. Small holes were punched in this tape as information was fed into it from the telescope. Right now, only an occasional click came from it. “Nellie’s been quiet all evening.”

  He started for the door with the young people close behind him.

  Dr. Badger glanced out of the big observation window. “Too late!” he snapped. “A car just drove up.”

  “Oh, murder!” Dr. Miller looked from side to side. Then, “Into the library,” he said. “Hurry! And if it’s Sir Edward, wait until you hear us talking in here and then slip out the door. Can you get back to the Bell all right?”

  As he spoke, he pushed them ahead of him into the hallway.

  Danny grabbed the knob of a door to the right.

  “No—not that one!” Dr. Miller almost yelled, in his agitation. “To the left!”

  Danny snatched his hand away. But the knob kept turning.

  Before they could move, the door swung open, and they found themselves face to face with Sir Edward. Professor Bullfinch was directly behind him.

  Sir Edward had a big smile on his face and it froze there. Then, slowly, it began to slip and melt, as his face grew redder and hotter, until it had turned into a scowl.

  “Aha!” he exclaimed. “So this is what goes on behind my back.”

  “Just a moment, Sir Edward, it’s not that at all,” protested Dr. Miller. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain? EXPLAIN? No explanations are necessary. This is outrageous! I—I—I will—” No one ever knew what horrible punishment he had in mind. For at that instant, there came a wild shout from the control room.

  “Hey!”

  It was Dr. Badger. “Come in here—quick!” he howled.

  Professor Bullfinch was the first to move. The rest were not much slower. They rushed into the control room.

  Dr. Badger faced them, white-faced and with blazing eyes.

  “Something’s coming in!” he gasped.

  From Nellie—the computer—poured a flood of rapid clicks.

  CHAPTER 12

  Dots and Dashes

  They all stood speechless. Danny felt the hair rise up on the back of his neck. Then Professor Bullfinch’s voice cut across the silence, calm but full of authority.

  “Have you checked the computer’s circuits? Perhaps there’s something wrong with the machine.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check anything,” Dr. Badger replied.

  At that moment, the clicking stopped.

  “Gone,” Dr. Miller said, with a long sigh.

  “Let’s wait a minute,” said the Professor.

  A short time passed, full of tension. Then the computer began its recording again.

  “If it is a message,” said Dr. Badger, “it may be in segments, or it may be the same message repeated over and over.”

  “Or it may be a fault in the wiring,” Dr. Miller said, grimly. “Let’s look at those electrical circuits.”

  Both Sir Edward and Professor Bullfinch stripped off their jackets. All four men began inspecting the wiring of the computer and then of other machines. The children stood forgotten, mouths and eyes wide open.

  Sir Edward straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Everything seems to be in order,” he said. “Great heavens! It may actually be a signal—”

  “I suggest we try a simple experiment,” said the Professor. “We’ve got the aerial set on 61 Cygni. Well, let’s turn it away from that source. If the pulses keep coming in, then we’ll know they are not coming from that star but from some radio source on earth.”

  “Right!” Dr. Miller sprang to the controls. Floodlights went on in the field. The crisscrossed girders and immense shining saucers of the telescopes looked like a fantastic stage-set against the black sky. The larger of the dishes began to move.

  The computer’s ticking faded away.

  “There we are,” breathed Dr. Badger. “Get back on the target, Al.”

  As the telescope swung back into its former position, the clicks began again, as if the room were filled with busy typewriters.

  “No doubt about it,” said Dr. Miller. “I can’t really believe it.”

  “It is the hydrogen frequency, isn’t it?” Sir Edward said.

  “Yes.” Dr. Badger studied the clock. “They’ve been coming in for a total of twenty minutes, now. What shall we do?”

  “I suggest we wait,” said Professor Bullfinch, quietly. He sat down and took out his pipe. “The pulses are coming at the rate of about five per second. There appears to be transmission for nearly two minutes, and then about a three-minute pause. Let’s see whether this goes on steadily, or comes to a halt altogether after a certain length of time. There may be a limit to the amount of power they have.” He paused. “They,” he repeated. “A strange thought.”

  “Very well,” said Sir Edward, with a return to his former briskness. “What about these youngsters? It’s frightfully late. Shouldn’t someone take them home?”

  He had lost all his anger in the excitement of what was happening.

  “Oh, no, please!” Danny burst out. “Please let us stay. We’ll be good. We won’t get in the way. We won’t stir from this spot.”

  Professor Bullfinch raised a hand. “This is a great moment,” he said. “One of the greatest in human history. I wouldn’t dream of sending them away, Pomfret, and neither would you, if you stopped to think. If this is indeed a message from another planet, it’s an experience which they will remember all their lives.”

  “Of course,” said Sir Edward, gravely. “You’re quite right, Bullfinch. They must stay by all means.” He looked around the room, passing one hand rather shakily over his white hair. “Let’s all sit down, then, shall we?”

  Another half hour went by. No one felt bored or tired, although there was nothing to do but listen to the rhythm of the computer. Dr. Miller made
some more coffee in the little kitchen, and found some cookies—digestive biscuits, they were called—to go with it. Then the clicking stopped.

  After a quarter of an hour, when it had still not resumed, Dr. Badger said, “I believe they’ve knocked off work for the night.”

  “Be patient,” said Sir Edward.

  But at the end of another fifteen minutes there was no further signal.

  “Well, let’s see what we have so far,” Dr. Badger said.

  He removed the paper tape from the computer and they all clustered around the desk to examine it.

  “They were certainly strong signals,” the

  Professor observed. “Whoever They are, They must have marvelous equipment and lots of power.”

  “There were 559 pulses in each of those segments,” Dr. Badger said, after a bit. “Some appear to be longer than others. There were 105 of those and 454 of the shorter ones. Altogether, we received twelve complete segments. They are all the same: the message was repeated over and over twelve times.”

  “Drink Martian Cola,” muttered Joe, whom nothing could subdue for long.

  That broke the spell, and everyone laughed.

  “But it may not be so funny,” said the Professor. “We can’t begin to imagine what they are like. Perhaps they have a whole civilization based on Martian Cola—whatever it is—and that’s precisely what they would send. Let’s keep an open mind. Joe is sometimes right even when he seems to be at his craziest.”

  Dr. Miller stifled a yawn. “This has been quite a night,” he said. “Now we’ll have to start decoding, to try to find out what this message says. That may turn out to be the biggest headache of the whole project. And what about the newspapers? Shall we release the news to them?”

  Sir Edward shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We must study our results carefully, first. We must keep the telescope on 61 Cygni—I’ll see to it that nothing interferes, now. We’ll have to have a continuous watch. The signal may begin again—probably will— and we must be ready for it.”