ago.”
FarTrekker shook his head. “No, that’s my Leucosia’s song.”
“I didn’t you had a girl,” said Vladimir. “At least, I’ve never seen you with one.”
“I had one once,” said FarTrekker, staring sadly at the viewscreen. “She was coming home when her ship was lost. They never found her.”
“Surely they looked for her?”
“They did,” said FarTrekker. “But it’s a big solar system.” He sighed deeply. “That was her song.”
“It’s my Peisinoe’s favorite song, too,” said Knibbs. “Or it was, before I lost her.”
Suddenly FarTrekker frowned. “And that’s Leucosia’s voice!”
He examined the speakers, but the sound was not emanating from them. He then turned to Vladimir. “You’re our engineering expert,” he said. “Where the hell is that sound originating, and how can we be hearing it if it’s not being broadcast by the ship’s speaker system?”
Vladimir shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Theoretically we can’t be hearing it.”
“Spare me your theories,” said FarTrekker. “Can any external source be bypassing the speakers and broadcasting that melody directly into the ship, anything we can trace?”
“No,” said Vladimir. “We’re maintaining radio silence. However the sound is reaching us, it’s not through any mechanism on the Argo. ”
The three men fell silent then, as the melody washed over them, caressing them with emotions and memories, some real, some they only wished were real.
“She’s alive,” said FarTrekker at last. “She’s alive, and she’s found a way to reach me!”
Knibbs agreed, except the “she” was his Peisinoe, and Vladimir, who remained silent, knew that the voice he heard, conjuring feelings he thought he’d forgotten, belonged to his Ligeia.
“We must be close!” said FarTrekker. “I never heard her on Earth, or in orbit, or even as we passed by Mars.”
“And Jupiter is still farther from us than Earth,” noted Vladimir.
“So she must be close by,” concluded FarTrekker, and the other two agreed with him, though each silently substituted a different name for “she.” “What’s the largest asteroid in the vicinity?”
Knibbs checked his computer. “Got one, maybe eight hundred miles in diameter, about ten thousand miles off to the right, and getting closer every second.” He paused. “Got a bit of an atmosphere, but nothing any human can breathe.”
“Does it have a name, or just the usual numbers and letters?” asked FarTrekker.
“Yeah, this one’s got a name: Anthemoessa.” Knibbs frowned. “Seems somehow familiar, though I’ll swear I never saw it referred to before.”
“ I have,” said Vladimir. “But I’ll be damned if I can remember where.
The strangest expression crossed FarTrekker’s face. “ I can remember.” Then he fell silent.
“Well?” demanded Knibbs.
“It’s the island where the Sirens lived,”
“You’re not suggesting Sirens are singing to us!” scoffed Vladimir.
“Besides, Anthemoessa, if it existed at all, was in Greece, remember?” added Knibbs.
“Maybe whoever named this asteroid knew something we don’t know,” said FarTrekker, and added “yet” silently.
“Ridiculous!” said Vladimir.
“Okay, maybe not,” said FarTrekker. “ You explain the song.”
“I can’t.”
“But you can hear it, and you’ve heard it before,” persisted FarTrekker.
“I think so.”
“You know so,” said FarTrekker. “Admit it: don’t you recognize the voice?”
Vladimir seemed to be having a brief battle within himself. Finally he sighed. “Yes. It’s my Ligeia.”
“I’ve got something interesting here,” said Knibbs. The other two turned to him. “According to the computer, the asteroid was named almost a century ago by Mortimer Highsmith.”
“So?” asked FarTrekker.
Knibbs smiled. “He was a widower.”
“That’s all?” said Vladimir.
“He never came back.”
“Where did he die?” asked Fartrekker.
“No one
FarTrekker shook his head. “No, that’s my Leucosia’s song.”
“I didn’t you had a girl,” said Vladimir. “At least, I’ve never seen you with one.”
“I had one once,” said FarTrekker, staring sadly at the viewscreen. “She was coming home when her ship was lost. They never found her.”
“Surely they looked for her?”
“They did,” said FarTrekker. “But it’s a big solar system.” He sighed deeply. “That was her song.”
“It’s my Peisinoe’s favorite song, too,” said Knibbs. “Or it was, before I lost her.”
Suddenly FarTrekker frowned. “And that’s Leucosia’s voice!”
He examined the speakers, but the sound was not emanating from them. He then turned to Vladimir. “You’re our engineering expert,” he said. “Where the hell is that sound originating, and how can we be hearing it if it’s not being broadcast by the ship’s speaker system?”
Vladimir shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Theoretically we can’t be hearing it.”
“Spare me your theories,” said FarTrekker. “Can any external source be bypassing the speakers and broadcasting that melody directly into the ship, anything we can trace?”
“No,” said Vladimir. “We’re maintaining radio silence. However the sound is reaching us, it’s not through any mechanism on the Argo. ”
The three men fell silent then, as the melody washed over them, caressing them with emotions and memories, some real, some they only wished were real.
“She’s alive,” said FarTrekker at last. “She’s alive, and she’s found a way to reach me!”
Knibbs agreed, except the “she” was his Peisinoe, and Vladimir, who remained silent, knew that the voice he heard, conjuring feelings he thought he’d forgotten, belonged to his Ligeia.
“We must be close!” said FarTrekker. “I never heard her on Earth, or in orbit, or even as we passed by Mars.”
“And Jupiter is still farther from us than Earth,” noted Vladimir.
“So she must be close by,” concluded FarTrekker, and the other two agreed with him, though each silently substituted a different name for “she.” “What’s the largest asteroid in the vicinity?”
Knibbs checked his computer. “Got one, maybe eight hundred miles in diameter, about ten thousand miles off to the right, and getting closer every second.” He paused. “Got a bit of an atmosphere, but nothing any human can breathe.”
“Does it have a name, or just the usual numbers and letters?” asked FarTrekker.
“Yeah, this one’s got a name: Anthemoessa.” Knibbs frowned. “Seems somehow familiar, though I’ll swear I never saw it referred to before.”
“ I have,” said Vladimir. “But I’ll be damned if I can remember where.
The strangest expression crossed FarTrekker’s face. “ I can remember.” Then he fell silent.
“Well?” demanded Knibbs.
“It’s the island where the Sirens lived,”
“You’re not suggesting Sirens are singing to us!” scoffed Vladimir.
“Besides, Anthemoessa, if it existed at all, was in Greece, remember?” added Knibbs.
“Maybe whoever named this asteroid knew something we don’t know,” said FarTrekker, and added “yet” silently.
“Ridiculous!” said Vladimir.
“Okay, maybe not,” said FarTrekker. “ You explain the song.”
“I can’t.”
“But you can hear it, and you’ve heard it before,” persisted FarTrekker.
“I think so.”
“You know so,” said FarTrekker. “Admit it: don’t you recognize the voice?”
Vladimir seemed to be having a brief battle within himself. Finally he sighed. “Yes. It’s my Ligeia.”
“I’ve got something interesting here,” said Knibbs. The other two turned to him. “According to the computer, the asteroid was named almost a century ago by Mortimer Highsmith.”
“So?” asked FarTrekker.
Knibbs smiled. “He was a widower.”
“That’s all?” said Vladimir.
“He never came back.”
“Where did he die?” asked Fartrekker.
“No one
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