Conversation with the Project Leader

Prologue

Scene 3

Too Late to Redirect

Following the work of Jagadish Bose, Heinrich Hertz, Edouard Branly, and Guglielmo Marconi in the late 1800s and early 1900s, radio came of age around 1904 when it became a news service to ships at sea.  The stations were powerful enough to transmit across the Atlantic, and, unbeknownst to the developers, across interstellar space in all directions.



Communications Center, Starship #841, beyond the Orion nebula.

1952-Feb 24.325 UT; 10:48 AM Local time.

Sift’s conversation with the Project Leader:



"Sir, the signal came back from the far side of the nebula."

The Project Leader said, "What signal?"

"Sir, we reported an anomalous signal last year that was declared as quasi NONO .

"I don't recall any such report."

"It was of very short duration and not resolved to any known species... it's in the records."

"You say it came back?"

"Yes.  Several hours ago we determined the new weak signal was similar to the NONO last year."

"What’s the format?"

"Oh, it had no format.  It was just an intermittent carrier.  Fairly broadband with no sidebands."

"Awfully primitive?  Were you able to get a fix?"

"Last year, no, just a declination and right ascension bearing.  But this time, with the same equipment, we were able to plot a slight change in direction.  If it's coming from the same source, it looks like it's about 1600 light-years out."

"In front of the progenitor?"

"Yep.  Maybe 20 degrees off axis."

"That puts it how far from the event?"

"Only about 50 light-years.

"Humm... well within the surface lethal radius."

"Yeah, poor bastards."

"How advanced will they be when the events happens?"

"If all the species development records can be believed, it will occur about the time they first populate their system, however big that is."

"That won't help much... even if they know about it.  What kind of environment do they have."

"Sir, we only have an inferior signal.  There's no way to know anything about their development yet."

"Is the signal continuous?"

"No. It comes and goes frequently."

"How long have you been receiving it?"

"Ods first saw it again about 24 hours ago.  In and out.  It's gone now."

"Why haven’t we been seeing it before?  Was it covered by the noise from the nebula?"

"No, it's like they turned it off.  The only other time we saw it, last year, it was much weaker, and the nebula did interfere some."

"Geeze, a new intelligence controlled transmission.  The Presidium needs to know about this.  Keep monitoring, try to get a better fix and keep me informed."

Sift cut the com link and returned to his analysis.

Well, the boss has been told.  Ods' report will be filed in a few minutes.  The political wheels will start turning before the day is done.  This is probably the last few hours I'll be able to devote my attention to this signal before all hell breaks loose at 'The Project.'

Everything in The Project has to be done on a schedule.  True, it's been a long schedule.  Turning a progenitor star away from known civilizations, so it can go 1A  away from tender developing species, has taken 10,000 years.

If this signal is from a species that has just discovered science, then they are indeed in a perilous position.





Sift squawked Ods over the intercom and said, "I just talked to the boss.  He'll report the finding to the Presidium and, I assume, you'll hear from them directly.  When will the report be official?"

Ods said, "I just entered it into the record.  Did he say what will happen next?"

"No.  It's been a while since a new primitive species has been discovered.  They will have to review protocol... but the apparent location will make it urgent."

"Will they come here to view the actual traces?  This place is a mess."

"Ods, I've been after you to stow everything.  It'd be a good idea to do it now, before the VIPs arrive."

"Okay, but I promised Nimmy I'd be home for supper at 18:30."

"Ods, I'll call Nimmy and apologize for you.  Just get the place cleaned up."

"Thanks, Sift, I owe you," and Ods flipped the intercom back to stand-by.



Sift called Nimmy, Ods current mate, and tried to smooth her feathers .  "I'm sorry, Nimmy, I had to order Ods to stay over a bit to square away the receiver station.  We're about to be invaded by VIPs."

Nimmy said, "Oh, come on, Sift.  You and him are probably just boozing at a bar someplace.  I'm getting tired of you two covering for each other."

"No, no, Nimmy.  This is legit.  We really have to fix up the shack.  Something big happened today and we have to look good for the brass."

"I don't trust you."

"Really, Nimmy, I’m telling you the truth.  That thing at the Circle R was just that once.  It never happened again."

"Now you're really lying.  What about the party at Jennifer's last month."

"But, we never lied to you about that.  We just didn't tell you.  There is a difference."

"Some difference.  You are incorrigible... what’s your excuse this time?"

"Oh... well... I guess I can tell you.  It's in the record already.  We've received a signal that may be from a new species."

"So what?  Isn't that what your job is?"

"Well, yes.  But it only happens rarely with such a primitive species."  Sift paused to let Nimmy's strong curiosity assist his argument.

"Primitive?  How primitive?"

Ah, hooked.  He added, "It's only an electromagnetic carrier.  Probably from a pre-space capable species."

Nimmy waited.  Thinking.  Her curiosity seeming to supplant her suspicions.  "So it's big... but why does he have to stay?"

"He has to tidy up the receiver station.  The place will probably be crawling with brass and the press in a few hours."

"He'll clean up the radio shack because of some primitive savages, but I can't get him to sweep out his den or carry out the trash.  You two aren't to be believed."

"It won't take him too long.  His relief will be here soon.  He shouldn't be more than an hour or so late."

After a long pause, "All right.  Thanks, I think, for calling, Sift.  I'll hold supper for him."

“Great, Nimmy.  I’ll send him home as soon as I can.”

Sift killed the link and was about to call his wife to tell her the news, too.  Why the Hell do I want to do that.  We aren't married anymore.



Ods and his relief were finishing a clean sweep of the receiving station when the Project Leader, his Adjutant, the Chief Astronomer, the Chief DNA Scientist, two Astrophysicists, and the Head Cosmologist rushed into the small lab.  Ods depressed the intercom button and said, “They’ve arrived,” released it and was about to greet the visitors.

“Where’s the oldest traces?” the PL demanded.

Ods said, “It’s all in the archive.  But I’ve kept the raw data for you here on console one.”

Seven people rushed towards the one chair in front of the display.  Then six stopped and parted for the PL to sit down... he did.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” looking at Ods.  “I may need a little coaching... ah... sergeant.”

“It’s Ods, sir,” the tech said.  “Most everything is right here,” pointing to the right-hand controller.  “The file is under the day’s date and was the first ones saved for antenna three.”

“Antenna three?  Is that a bow antenna.”

“Yes, sir.  Happens to be the one looking right at the nebula.”

The PL quickly pulled up the 3-D trace.  Everyone else leaned over in unison to see the splotchy drips and drabs that appeared to hang in mid-air over the console.

“That’s intelligence?” said the DNA scientist.

“What notch filters did you use?” the PL asked.

“The number one array is for known species, two is known astro points and three is the current locations of our prospector ships.”

The PL keyed in the three filters to eliminate 90% of the display.  It cleared except for a faint moiré of light that generally outlined the nebula in front of the ship.

Ods said, “The first signs appeared around 03:40 that morning.”

The PL swung the data forward by a few hours, then slowed to real-time at 03:39.  The group watched the pattern fade in and out and wash back and forth for several minutes.  Intermittent flashes appeared in random points around the image.

“I see no intelligence here,” someone said.

Ods said, “You might be surprised if you convert it to audio.  That’s how I found it again this morning.”

The PL smiled, “The old fashion ways are sometimes the best aren’t they, son.”

“It was by sheer accident, sir.  I just like to listen to the nebula in the background while I do my normal communications work.  It’s sort of soothing.”

The PL keyed the conversion and soft white noise, like rain, filled the room.

After a while, a very faint pst, pssst, pst joined the sound.

“Hear that?” Ods said.

“Yah,” the Cosmologist said.  “That’s not regular.”

“It took me over an hour, but I finally isolated it down here,” pointing at the edge of a bright limb of the nebula.

The PL drew a circle where Ods was pointing, enlarged it and quieted most of the other noise.

They listened intently.

[Morris Code of the 1903 greeting of President Theodore Roosevelt to King Edward VII]  sounds echoed around the shack.

“What the Hell is it?”

“Well, it’s certainly not natural,” the PL said.

“The astronomer said, “Could it be just a reflection from something else?”

“Possibly,” Ods said.  “That’s why I didn’t flag it as urgent last year.  But, when it came back this morning, that ruled out any random reflections.”

The PL loaded the latest file and zeroed in on the same place... nothing.

“It’s about a half second farther south this morning, sir.”

The PL adjusted for it’s movement, and the sounds came back, stronger.

“Sift was right, I think we really have a problem,” the PL said.

Ods and his relief backed away from the group as the scientists began a lively discussion of the project, its objectives, their obligation to the new species, and who knows what.  All way beyond their interests.

Sift eased open the door and whispered to Ods, “Any thing happening here?”

“God, boss.  Almost the whole Presidium is in this room.  They’re talking about redirecting the project.”

“The whole friggen project?  Ten thousand years to get us here and they want to change it?”

An astrophysicists’ voice rose over the rest, “There isn’t enough material left in the planetesimal disk to move it more than a few light-years away.  And if we use too much of it, there wouldn’t be enough left for our own escape.”

The PL said, “That’s being a little selfish, Chuck.  Our DNA will live on elsewhere.  Theirs hasn’t even blossomed yet.”

“You’re talking about making this into a suicide mission, sir.”



Pages:      10

Words:    1833



EndNotes:



1.  NONO - Not Of Natural Origin.



2.  1A – A large Supernova explosion that destroys the star and is lethal for hundreds of light years around.



3.  Feathers – Nimmy is of the advanced aviary augmented line.  All of this species have common original DNA, but, through later enhancements some incorporate features to better do their jobs and pursue other interests.



4.  On 17 December 1902, a transmission from the Marconi station in Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, Canada, became the first radio message to cross the Atlantic from North America. On 18 January 1903, a Marconi station built near South Wellfleet, Massachusetts in 1901 sent a message of greetings from Theodore Roosevelt, the President of the United States, to King Edward VII of the United Kingdom, marking the first transatlantic radio transmission originating in the United States. However, consistent transatlantic signaling was difficult to establish.

Marconi began to build high-powered stations on both sides of the Atlantic to communicate with ships at sea, in competition with other inventors. In 1904 a commercial service was established to transmit nightly news summaries to subscribing ships, which could incorporate them into their on-board newspapers. A regular transatlantic radio-telegraph service was finally begun on 17 October 1907 between Clifden Ireland and Glace Bay, but even after this the company struggled for many years to provide reliable communication.



c/o http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guglielmo_Marconi