by Bob Mauldin
Kitty gasped and her hand reached involuntarily for the stone, glowing green in the darkness. She cupped the pendant in both hands, feeling the weight of stone and intricately carved setting. As she held it, the glow increased visibly. “It’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed. She turned the piece over, examining the back. “What makes it glow?”
“I have no idea,” Simon admitted. “It didn’t do that when I found it in a small pocket in one of the fighters,” he said, slipping the chain over her head and settling it onto her neck, the pendant lying between her breasts. “I just thought that this would be the best place for it.”
“Words can’t express how I feel,” Kitty said, pulling closer to Simon’s side. “Ecstatic and scared. Humble and cocky. A lot more scared than anything else, I think.”
“I know what you mean, Dear. I’ve had just as much time as you to get over my feelings of insignificance, but I don’t think I ever truly will.” He turned her to him. “As a matter of fact, I thought that this might be a good place to ...”
“Simon!” Kitty’s voice expressed her total shock at his suggestion.
“Why not?” he asked innocently. “I locked the door coming in, and can you think of a better place to initiate our new ... home?” He pulled her to him and began to caress her back. An indeterminate time later, clothes scattered everywhere, naked to the universe, Simon’s last conscious thoughts about his surroundings were of the novelty of making love under a rising Earth and how the stone glowed so much brighter against Kitty’s bare skin.
Gayle beamed into the transporter room the next afternoon dressed for a hike and carrying a small backpack. “I’ve got an idea about how to snare our pigeon. Don’t ask. If it works, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Kitty grinned. “Knowing you, I don’t need to ask, I can guess. Poor guy won’t know what hit him. Just be gentle, okay?”
The sensors on the ship were easily able to discern first, a clearing and nearby trail, and second, that there were no humans within two hundred yards of the spot. Gayle beamed into a small clearing on a hillside overlooking Arecibo. The first things she noticed were the heat and the humidity. Fifteen seconds in the new environment and her shirt was already plastered to her skin, making her think about pulling a bra out of her backpack.
The air had an almost physical quality to it, heavily laden with the smells of tropical flowers mingled with the odor of decomposing vegetation. It was an odor that she felt she could tolerate but never entirely get used to. She took a deep breath, reaffirmed her opinion, and listened intently for sounds indicating anybody nearby. I guess I could say that I had to pee if someone sees me coming out of here, she thought. She stepped out of the clearing and onto the trail, dismissing the bra idea, oriented herself on the lights of the small town at the bottom of the hill, and headed down to locate her quarry.
She walked quickly along the path in the growing dusk, slapping at mosquitoes the size of small planes, until she passed between two ramshackle buildings and found herself on the main street of the little town just as the sun finally set. Looking around she saw a sign painted on the wall of a building not too far down the street. Remembering her one semester of high-school Spanish with something less than fondness, she translated it to be Hotel Arecibo.
Walking in the front door, she was relieved to see a counter off to one side that had the universal look of a check-in desk. Opposite the desk was an open door leading to a dining room. As she reached the counter, a young woman, most likely in her early twenties, stepped out of a doorway behind the desk. “Yes, senorita? May I help you?” A few minutes haggling got Gayle a small bungalow behind the main building for a surprisingly cheap rate considering the fact that it was one of the few with air conditioning as well as hot water. The desk clerk told her that dinner would be served in an hour and would only cost a little more. She paid in advance and, almost as an afterthought, asked, “Are there any other hotels in town?”
“No, senorita,” the girl replied. “This is the only hotel. There are not enough touristas to make it a profitable thing to do here. Although I just rented a cabana to two American men.”
“Did they say anything about staying long?” Gayle asked, interest aroused.
“No, senorita, and I don’t think they will,” the girl said with a smile. “Their room has no air-conditioning.”
Gayle walked down a crushed-shell path to her bungalow. She passed a dozen or so cottages in various states of repair. Clustered at the far end were several outbuildings used, most likely, for storage of maintenance equipment, sorely in need of repair. She found her room, stepped inside and turned on the air conditioner. She let the air blow over her for a moment before stripping off her sweat-soaked shirt and pants. Not up to state-side standards, she thought, giving the room a once-over, but air-conditioning and hot water make all the difference in the world. Or out of it.
She let the air conditioner lower the temperature and suck some of the humidity out of the room before she stepped into the shower. Changing into a pair of khaki shorts and light blouse and this time wearing a bra, she strolled back to the foyer and into the dining room.
The desk clerk was on duty as hostess and told her to pick any empty seat. She looked around at the six tables. Each table was set with four places and had two or three people already seated, except for the one in the far corner of the room. Seated at that table was the man she had come to find. And all by himself.
She looked around the room, trying to identify the two Americans who were undoubtedly agents of one or another of the alphabet agencies. None seemed any more unusual for this time and place than any other. If anything, she was the one out-of-place. If this gets any easier, she thought, and headed toward her prey. Stopping behind an empty chair, she put on her sunniest smile. “Hi! Mind if I join you?”
Dr. Walker looked up from a scatter of papers covered in graphs and cryptic figures. “Uh, sure, Miss ...?”
“Miller. Gayle Miller. What are you working on?” She slid a chair out and sat down, pointedly looking at the papers on the table.
He made a vague gesture at the papers then swept them into a pile when he realized she actually meant to sit with him. “These? Just some frequency tables and astronomical charts. I work at the observatory. You know. Just outside town. I’m Steve. Stephen Walker. Hi.”
It turned out to be home-style dining with their only choice being what to drink. Both chose a local beer that Steve said was palatable. As the meal progressed, Gayle showered questions about space and the big telescope on him, and even allowed that she believed in aliens, too.
“Too?” Steve asked, eyebrows reaching for his hairline while the last bite of his dessert hung on his fork.
“Yes, too, Stephen. You do prefer Stephen, don’t you? I think it sounds so debonair.” Gayle leaned forward exposing a more than a fair amount of cleavage. “You wouldn’t be listening for signals from space if you didn’t believe, now would you?” she pressed. “I’ve always believed that there has to be someone else out there. And it would be so cool to make first contact.”
“Well, yes, I guess I do believe, Miss Miller,” Stephen admitted a bit sheepishly. “And while I can’t say that I expect to find proof of alien life, I do hope to find it. It’s just that the distances are so vast that at the speed of light, it will take so long for any signal to arrive. Remember, we’ve only had signals going out for about sixty years. And that’s just video. We’ve had radio a lot longer, of course. Those signals are just now beginning to arrive at some stars. And assuming that one of those stars has a planet with intelligent life on it, and assuming further that they are capable of receiving and decoding our signals and want to respond, it will take the same length of time to get word back to us. So I only hope to find evidence of somebody else out there, not actually talk to them.” He pushed his plate away and took a long pull on his beer. “So tell me, what brings you to Arecibo?”
“Oh, I had a little shore leave coming and I ha
ve always been interested in the big telescope. I thought I’d come out here and see it.”
“Shore leave?” Stephen asked. “Are you in the military?”
“No,” Gayle laughed. “I’m the personnel director for the Morning Star. It’s a cruise ship docked at San Juan.” Getting into her role, she made up stories about her life and continued to show interest in Stephen’s work. Questions starting with, “How do you ...” and, “What about ...” finally made him break down and invite her to his room to show her some of the intricacies of radio-astronomy. ‘Bout damn time, she thought. I was beginning to think I had lost my touch. Neither she nor Stephen noticed the two men who got up and followed them out, moments after their departure.
The next morning Gayle carefully extricated herself from between the sheets and a sleeping Stephen Walker. Deciding a shower was in order, she sauntered into the bathroom, grinning. Putting the next phase of her plan into motion, she set the alarm on her watch and turned the shower on. Climbing under the water, she tunelessly hummed anything that came to mind making sure the good doctor was awake. She stepped out and grabbed a towel. Drying her hair, she walked back into the bedroom to find him looking her way. “So I didn’t imagine last night,” he said.
“No,” she replied, grinning, “you didn’t,” and watched as a blush spread from his face down below the sheet he held in his hands. As she was about to sit down beside him, her watch began to beep and she regretted having set it for such a short time. Oh, well, she thought. The hook’s been set. I’ll reel him in later. Aloud, she exclaimed, “Damn. I’m gonna be late,” as she slipped her blouse on.
“Late? I thought you were on vacation,” he questioned.
“Yes and no. I’ll explain tonight if I can see you again,” she said stepping into her panties.
As she gathered up her shorts and shoes he just said, “Uh, sure.”
“At seven for dinner, okay? Okay.” Shorts and shoes in hand, she stood in the middle of the room, said, “Bye!” and pressed the button on her wristband. The last thing she saw was the sheet fall to his lap and the look of astonishment that spread across his face.
Simon and Kitty were in the transporter room when Gayle beamed back in. “That is just about the coolest thing ever!” she exclaimed. “So, what are you guys doing?”
“Well, I was going to go down for breakfast, but right now I think Simon should go. Care to explain why you’re half-dressed?” Kitty didn’t seem to know whether to be mad or crack up laughing.
Simon said, “That must have been one hell of a plan! I’m not going anywhere till you fill us in.”
Gayle looked at her shorts and shoes and said, “Oops!” Putting the rest of her clothes on, she filled them in, finishing with, “And I’ve got a date for dinner tonight. We’ll see then how well I set the hook.”
Gayle walked into the dining room at seven PM, black short-sleeved shirt and trousers showing off her figure and managing to look vaguely military at the same time. The effect was heightened by her long blonde hair being pulled back into a ponytail. Dr. Walker was already seated at the corner table, without his papers, so she walked over.
Her target saw her in time to stand up. He looked hastily around the room and seeing only the familiar faces of his fellow guests, he relaxed a bit. “I’m alone, if that’s what you’re worried about, Stephen,” she said, stopping opposite him. “Buy a girl a beer?”
He waved his hand at the chair across from him. “I had almost convinced myself that it had to be some kind of weird dream or something. Otherwise I’d have to be going crazy.” He sat back down in his chair, hands on the table, fingers spread as if he needed some physical connection to the world around him.
Gayle slid into the opposite chair and started to open her mouth. Stephen held up one hand. “There are other explanations, though.” He stared into Gayle’s eyes. “One could be that I wasn’t dreaming and you actually possess the technology I saw.” He stared a few seconds longer, then said, “That assumption is bolstered by the fact that those two gentlemen over there,” he nodded to two men across the room, “came to see me today, and grilled me quite intensely about our evening and why you didn’t leave my room this morning. If I work that assumption, then I have a truckload of questions. Let’s leave the obvious ‘how’ for later and go straight for the big ones. Why? And why me?”
Grinning sheepishly, Gayle glanced in the direction of the table Stephen indicated. Impishly, she waved in their direction. “Can you guys hear well enough?” she jibed. “Going straight for the throat,” she said, turning back to Stephen. “I expected that. I’ll explain the how, later. As much as I know.” She leaned closer and began to whisper. “I’ll bet this drives them crazy. Anyway, we need you, or more specifically someone with a certain set of qualifications. That’s the why. You were the first one we found who fit our criteria. Those being a belief in extra-terrestrial life, a working knowledge of both astrophysics and mechanical engineering, and a spirit of adventure. Besides, I needed some way to get you to listen seriously to what I came here to tell you.”
“What I came here to tell you,” he mimicked. “Let me guess. You beamed down from the Enterprise for a little R&R.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he waved two fingers at the waitress.
“I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d keep your voice down.” She looked quickly across the room. “First, let me talk until dinner arrives. After dinner, I’ll finish up and answer all your questions, okay?” He just nodded. “First off, I lied ... some. But then, you’ve already figured that out. The ship I’m on isn’t the Morning Star. It doesn’t have a name. Yet. I am the personnel officer. And temporarily, the recruiting officer. And to answer your next question: No. I don’t plan to recruit any other personnel that way. So far, we have a crew of three, and we need over nine hundred more. You’re the first person that we’ve contacted.” She began to tell the story from the time she had seen the shuttle land. Dinner arrived and they ate in silence leaving without dessert. Walking down the main street, they came to a bench and sat down. Two shadows quit moving as soon as they did. She finished up, adding, “The rest you know. Except that I spent all day on board just dreading this conversation because I had no idea how you’d react.”
He sat there looking through her, then spoke. “Do you really expect me to believe any of this?”
“No, but I do expect you to keep an open mind. Especially after this morning.” Even in the dark she could see his face turn red. “Not that. I mean the other thing. I can prove what I say, every word of it. And if I do prove it, it validates everything you believe in, doesn’t it?”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Okay, just how do you plan to prove it? I assume you do have a plan.”
Gayle stood up. “Of course I have a plan. Follow me,” she said getting up and heading between two buildings.
They passed between the two houses and stood only a dozen feet from the jungle. Dr. Walker turned to Gayle. “Well, how do you plan to prove you’re not ... prove such an outlandish story?” His voice betrayed his discomfiture at his predicament.
“Prove I’m not insane?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small round disk and held it out to him. “This is a locator beacon. At present it is slaved to my transporter activator,” she said lifting her left arm and displaying her wristband. “If you hold it and I activate mine, we both beam up and you get to visit a real, live space ship built by the very aliens you’ve been looking for. The decision is yours.” Feigning indifference, she leaned up against the side of one of the houses, determined to out-wait him.
Dr. Walker paced, a short distance only. The lights from the buildings and what seeped between them illuminated only a very small portion of ground. He turned the disk over and over in his hand. At last he stood before Gayle. “Okay. Let’s get this over with. If you’re nuts, you’re outta here. If not, well ...”
Gayle stood up and quit examining her fingernails in the near-dark. She looked ar
ound for their shadows from the restaurant. Not seeing them, she said, “I do like a risk-taker!” She eyed him speculatively. “Where’s the disk, Stephen?” He held it up and she nodded, reaching for her wristband. “Watch that first step,” she said lightly.
As the walls of the transporter room phased in, Gayle watched the doctor. He looked at Gayle. “Uh ...”
She shrugged. “Told ya so.” She winked at Kitty who had been standing by to activate the beam when Gayle signaled. Gayle introduced the two and added as she walked toward the door, “Okay, Stephen. The hard part’s over. Let’s go.” She stopped next to the transport console and waited for him to make up his mind.
A confused look on his face, he walked stiffly over to her. “Look. Suppose I don’t want to go through with this. Or decide to back out. I mean, is it too late?”
Gayle laid a hand on his arm. “Stephen you’re not a prisoner. I said ‘visit,’ and that’s exactly what I meant. Let’s go meet the rest of the crew.” Gayle pulled gently on his sleeve, but he ignored her, focusing on the transport console itself. He looked a question at Kitty and she just nodded her head and stepped back so he could take a closer look at it. “You said you found an alien ship,” he said to Gayle. “How is it that everything is in English?”
“We’ve had some small successes dealing with the computer that runs this thing. You should have seen the lighting before Simon got the computer to change it to Earth normal,” Gayle said. “Ask Kitty how dismal it was.”
A bird might look at a snake the way Stephen looked at Kitty. Holding out her hand, she said, “Katherine Hawke, Dr. Walker. Please call me Kitty. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And the light really was pretty bad. So dim that you couldn’t see from one side of a room to the other in some of the larger spaces. But Simon will tell you more about that.” She looked at Gayle. “I believe he’s in the ready room.”