Skywave

by K Patrick Donoghue

  “Uh, yes…sort of…well…no, not really. I’m afraid that was a fib on my part,” Amato said.

  “Oh?” Anlon asked.

  “Yes, you see, I’m not actually sending bees into space. The ones I want to talk to you about are already there,” Amato said.

  “I’m sorry, when you say ‘already there,’ do you mean they’re inside the probe you sent to the Moon?” Pebbles asked.

  “Uh, no,” Amato said. “I mean bees in space. Well, they’re not actually bees. They behave like them, at least to my untrained eye, but they don’t look like bees. They look like little balls of light.”

  Anlon and Pebbles exchanged glances similar to those of Dante and Kiera when he first discussed the UMOs with them. “They’re called UMOs, or unidentified magnetic objects. They are an alien life-form, an electromagnetic life-form.”

  “UMOs,” Anlon whispered.

  “Yes, I know it sounds unbelievable, but I assure you they are real.”

  “Wow, that feels strange,” Anlon said to Pebbles. “Usually we’re the ones saying that!”

  “I know, right?” Pebbles said.

  “I’m sorry?” Amato asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Anlon said. “It’s just Pebbles and I have had our fair share of experiences dealing with unbelievable phenomena.”

  “Electromagnetic phenomena,” Pebbles added for emphasis.

  “Have you now?” Amato asked.

  “Yeah, but it’s a story for another time,” Anlon said. “You say the UMOs behave like bees?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t know for certain. I hoped you might be able to help me interpret their behavior,” Amato said.

  “I’m happy to try, but why me? There are dozens of researchers who focus entirely on honeybees. They’ll know a lot more about them than me.”

  “True, but you worked with Dr. Braun,” Amato said.

  “Heidi Braun?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gosh, that was years and years ago,” Anlon said “Why’s that relevant?”

  “Because Dr. Braun was the first scientist to study the UMOs, believe it or not. She’s the one who connected their behavior with honeybees,” Amato said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, about a decade before you were on her research team,” Amato said.

  “Before? You’re talking mid-nineties?” Anlon asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “But that’s like twenty-three years ago,” Pebbles said. “These things have been around that long?”

  “Oh, knowledge of them goes back decades before then,” Amato said. “It’s been kept hush-hush for a very long time.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I suppose, for many years, they were viewed as curiosities, nothing more. Harmless, individual blobs of electric energy flitting around. It wasn’t until later that they exhibited coordinated, aggressive behavior. From that moment on, I think fear of the unknown took hold,” Amato said.

  “Aggressive behavior in what way?” Anlon asked.

  “They swarm,” Amato said. “At least, that was Dr. Braun’s belief.”

  Amato described Braun’s migratory theory and the Pentagon’s opposing predator theory. He shared the stories behind the lost Phobos and Mars Observer probes, but he steered clear of Cetus Prime. “Their behaviors suggest they are sensitive to electromagnetic radiation at both the low and high ends of the spectrum, from radio waves up to X-rays, possibly gamma rays.”

  “You seem to know a lot about them already,” Anlon said.

  “Bits and pieces, most of it secondhand. I’ve had limited direct experience with them, limited meaning the last few days,” Amato said.

  Pebbles had listened with eyes riveted on Amato, occasionally rubbing her wrists. In response to Amato’s last comment, she said, “They were involved in getting you to the Moon, weren’t they?”

  Amato nodded.

  “Wow,” she said, squeezing Anlon’s hand. “How cool is that!”

  “Very cool,” Anlon said. Turning to Amato, he frowned. “But I’m at a loss to figure out what I can do to help you.”

  “Anlon,” Amato said, “my team is made up of engineers, physicists, astronomers. We’re all learning about the UMOs on the fly. We have no one with an animal behavior background to consult when we encounter the UMOs. Someone with experience observing, interacting with, social animals. Someone who’s familiar with the role magnetism plays in coordinating group behaviors, à la honeybees.

  “I can show you an example of what I mean,” Amato said, patting his briefcase. “I have a video and audio recording of the UMOs interacting with my probe before they propelled it to the Moon.”

  He watched Pebbles’ mouth drop. “Yes, they literally pushed us to the Moon.”

  Anlon suggested they move to the dining room, and there Amato set up his laptop and played the video of the UMOs gathering, spinning and splitting as they powered CUBE-1 away from Earth. Anlon watched the video several times, at full speed and in slow motion. On a few run-throughs, he closed his eyes and listened to Ajay’s audio, again at full speed and in slow motion. Pebbles stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, occasionally oohing and ahhing. Anlon didn’t say anything during his viewings. When he finally stopped the video, he shook his head and said, “Remarkable.”

  “Remarkable?” Pebbles said. “It’s effing incredible!”

  “I stand corrected, it’s effing incredible.” Anlon smiled at Pebbles. Turning to Amato, he said, “Dr. Braun was right. The behaviors in this recording are very similar to honeybees, but they’re more complex. Way more complex. Take the waggle dance at the beginning, for instance.”

  “Waggle what?” Pebbles asked.

  “Waggle dance. It’s how honeybees tell other bees they’ve found food nearby,” Anlon said. He reset the video back to the beginning, at a point where the UMOs were moving around behind CUBE-1 in a disorganized fashion. He pointed at the screen. “Watch this little guy right here. Every time he pulses, he moves to a different position. He’s making a figure eight. See.”

  Amato followed Anlon’s finger tracing the slow-motion path of the UMO as Anlon continued to speak. “In a waggle dance, bees communicate both the direction and distance from food that’s been discovered. Essentially, they use their body position during the dance to point in the direction of the food, and they signal distance by how many times they loop through the figure eight. They’ll even pulse their abdomens to reinforce the distance estimate.”

  “My God,” Amato said. “I thought they were just randomly buzzing around at this point in the encounter, taking stock of CUBE-1.”

  “No doubt, some of them are,” Anlon said.

  “But, Anlon, I don’t understand. If they’re already at the food, why is the UMO telling the others about it. Can’t they sense it for themselves?” Pebbles asked.

  “I assume they can, but he’s not telling them because they can’t sense it, he’s giving them instructions to go spread the word. Watch, several of them peel away after he finishes the dance. Then, you’ll notice later, when more show up, they show up in groups. The messenger UMOs bring them back, or at least, that’s what the video suggests to me,” Anlon said. “The cooler part is what happens when the queen shows up.”

  “The queen?” Amato and Pebbles asked in unison.

  “Yeah, once the UMOs have kicked off their spin, the queen shows up,” Anlon said. “It’s hard to notice if you’re not looking for it, especially at full speed.”

  He fast-forwarded through the video until he reached the point at which the lights in the spinning ball began to pulse as one, instead of individual glitters of light. He backed up the recording a few seconds prior and then played the video in slow motion.

  “Look to the right. You’re going to see a really bright light approach the ball. It’s hard to tell on the small screen, but I’m pretty certain it’s a different hue from the others,” Anlon said.

  He paused the video when the bright light appeared on-scr
een. “See what I mean. Now, it’s very unusual for a queen to go outside the hive without escorts surrounding her. The only time she flies alone is when she’s mating.”

  Resuming the playback, Anlon said, “As soon as she enters the ball, the individual blinking lights are replaced by solid pulses. This is not how honeybees mate, of course, but I think I understand the mechanics of what’s going on.”

  “Do tell,” Pebbles said, sinking into a seat next to Amato, facing Anlon.

  “It suggests the mating process is incredibly energy intensive. First, an adequate food source has to be located. Then, enough of the UMOs have to gather and feed long enough to build up the strength to form the breeding chamber for the queen. When they’re ready, they communicate somehow with the queen. I couldn’t pick it up on the audio recording, but I’m sure they send out some kind of message telling her it’s time. She arrives, enters the ball and they feed her—”

  “They what?” Pebbles asked. “How can you tell that?”

  “I think that’s what’s happening during the unified pulsing. They’re discharging energy they consumed earlier into the closed environment, allowing the queen to build up the energy she needs to produce a new queen,” Anlon said. “Don’t ask me how she does it.”

  As Amato listened to this latter part of Anlon’s description, he frowned. “A new queen?”

  “Yeah, when the ball splits into two, the new queen goes off with half the UMOs, the old queen goes off with the other,” Anlon said. “Sort of like what happens in a honeybee colony. When a new queen is born, the old queen leaves the hive, taking a contingent of drones from the old hive with her to look for a place to build a new hive and start a new colony.”

  “But didn’t they just divide and double?” Amato asked. “Our interpretation of the split was they divided like a cell would, creating an entire new set of cells.”

  “That’s what it looks like to me, too,” Pebbles said. “Both balls look the same size as the original.”

  “Who knows, you might be right,” Anlon said. “I’m way out on a limb, conjecture-wise, but I think you’re being swayed by the visual. I’m concentrating on the audio, the different pitches in the communication back and forth after they veer away from the probe.”

  “I’m not sure I follow you,” Amato said.

  Pebbles sat back and stared at Anlon, tapping her fingers on the table. Then, her eyes widened and her tapping ceased. “If they were clones, the sounds would be the same.”

  “Exactly,” Anlon said. “The different pitches suggests the old queen talking with the new one, giving instructions or a farewell.”

  Amato had not prefaced the video prior to their viewing, as he had wanted Anlon’s unbiased impressions. While Anlon had indeed noticed things Amato and his team had missed, and reached different conclusions, they agreed on the basic premise of the UMOs engaging in a mating ritual. But the insights Anlon provided were of immeasurable value and reinforced the need to have this kind of expertise at Mayaguana.

  “Anlon, I’m so glad I didn’t cancel. This has been amazing,” Amato said. “Thank you.”

  “You kidding? This was fun!” Anlon said.

  “Heck yeah!” Pebbles said. “Question. You said the UMOs pushed your probe to the Moon. I assume from all the activity going on in the video. How did it translate into the push?”

  “We don’t know for certain. We believe it’s a magnetic reaction. They’re attracted by our engine’s ions. Whether it’s repulsion or something else going on is unclear. We didn’t expect to run into them during our engine test, so we didn’t have the kind of instrumentation aboard to analyze them. But, last night we launched another eight of the probes, each with different instruments and functions. We should collect a lot more information the next time they show up,” Amato said.

  “What kind of engine is it?” Anlon asked.

  “It’s experimental. It uses very-low-frequency radio waves and an electron gun to produce small-scale lightning charges,” Amato said. “It’s similar to NASA’s electric sail concept, only instead of collecting ions over a network of charged wires, our engine concentrates ions inside a plasma chamber.”

  “Interesting. Radio waves as a power source,” Anlon said. “So, what’s your plan for the other probes?”

  “Good question. They were designed as a fleet of twelve, but three didn’t make it into orbit, so we’re going to see if we can test the concept with nine. Assuming we can, and assuming we don’t run into further surprises from our little UMO friends, we’re going to take them for a ride beyond the Moon and see what happens,” Amato said, careful to avoid mention of Callisto.

  “Well, it’ll be interesting to see how the UMOs react to more of your engines,” Anlon said. “I kind of doubt you’ll get the same response as you got from the first one unless there are multiple colonies up there.”

  “You know, I hadn’t thought of that,” Amato said. “We haven’t tried yet with the others. So far we’ve kept their engines at low power, which we’ve found doesn’t lure many UMOs. We’re waiting for CUBE-1 to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet before we test the engines at higher power. I take it you think they may not have a need to go through the same ritual because they’ve just produced a new queen?”

  “That’s right. Honeybees don’t pop out new queens at random. Usually, there’s an impetus within the hive that creates the need. The reigning queen gets old or dies, the colony becomes overpopulated, things like that,” Anlon said. “I’ll tell you one thing I’d suggest.”

  “What’s that?” Amato asked.

  “If they do repeat the ritual, I’d see if you can find a way to track the UMOs after they split,” Anlon said. “If they’re like honeybees, the two colonies won’t cohabitate. They’ll head in different directions, stake their own territories.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” Amato said. “Then we’d know where to find them in the future. It would make them easier to study.”

  “Yep, but there’s a better reason than that for tracking them,” Anlon said.

  “What?” Pebbles asked.

  “If they’re like honeybees, you might be able to train them,” Anlon said.

  After Amato’s plane lifted off the runway, he held a brief conference call with Dante, Kiera and Mark to check the status of the SatFleet and any repercussions following the White House announcement.

  Dante indicated the probes were operating under individual control, but he had yet to turn on the fleet software. CUBE-1 had finally joined up with the rest and together they were traveling in high Earth orbit.

  “As soon as you give the word, we’re ready to increase power to the engines and test the fleet software,” Dante said.

  “Has Brock been back in touch?” Amato asked.

  “No,” Kiera said. “I think she has her hands full at the moment.”

  “Good. If she reaches out, don’t respond until I get back. I’ve acquired some interesting insights that cast a very different light on our ‘Moon run.’”

  Mark interjected to report that Amato’s Orlando headquarters had been besieged by the media, on the phone, through email and in person. The Gateway Museum and gardens had been closed off to tourist traffic given repeated attempts by reporters to sneak into the surrounding headquarters buildings by blending in with tour groups. On the web and on television, nearly every news network had spent the day covering the story, predictably stoking friction between scientists who tried to explain how CUBE-1’s odyssey had been possible against others who derided the accomplishment as a farce. To spice viewership further, an assortment of conspiracy-minded “experts” appeared to foment suspicion of an alien cover-up.

  “So far, everyone at HQ is holding together, but we should probably put out an internal communication soon. Lots of questions running around, and your absence is noticed,” Mark said. “By our own people…and the media.”

  “Understood,” Amato said. “I’ll try to put something together on the flight and send it to you. We can
have the PR folks spruce it up and then have a call to discuss before we release it.”

  “That’ll help here, not so with the media. They want to hear from you directly. There’s an expectation that we’ll hold a press conference. That you’ll answer questions. They’ve started to gather at Mayaguana, outside the compound. Others have camped out at our other facilities. One even tried to get into the Ascension base,” Mark said.

  “Hmm…I guess I should have anticipated that,” Amato said. “Thank goodness we got the other CUBEs up when we did.”

  “Should I schedule a press conference? Not for tomorrow, but maybe for the day after? I know you won’t have time until then,” Mark asked.

  “That should work. Let’s plan on announcing the briefing when we send out the press release. We’ll do two conferences, one for employees, first, the other for the media, afterward,” Amato said.

  With that settled, Dante asked, “So, what do you want to do about the fleet?”

  “Nothing right now. I’ll touch base tomorrow and we’ll decide then,” Amato said.

  “All right, we’ll keep ’em parked in orbit ’til we hear from you,” Dante said.

  When the call ended, Amato looked out the airplane window at the endless ocean surrounding the plane. His thoughts turned to the end of the meeting with Anlon and Pebbles.

  After a relaxed lunch and a tour of Sol Seaker, Amato had tried to convince Anlon to postpone his voyage and join him in Mayaguana for the test of the SatFleet. Anlon declined and suggested a few names of other researchers. Amato pressed Anlon to reconsider, even offering to reimburse him for the cost of his new yacht if he would spend a month at Mayaguana. At that point, Anlon had asked Pebbles for a moment alone with Amato. After she left, Anlon said, “Look, first of all, if I were to help you, it wouldn’t be about money. Don’t need yours, don’t want yours. Second, I’m fascinated by your discovery and would love to pitch in. It’d be cool as all get-out. But, the timing’s not good.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amato said.