PITS. You've got to get over here right away! Have / got something to show you!"
Thirty minutes later Harrison stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway of Norton's office. "This
had better be good, Norton. Char may never speak to me again, leaving in the middle of a very important party I didn't want to be at in the first place."
Norton sat, looking haggard but animated, behind a desk draped with unfolded computer printouts. "You ever get premonitions, Harrison?" His dark eyes glittered feverishly.
"Norton, what the hell are you talking about?"
Norton gathered up one of the printouts and thrust it at Harrison. "Here ... Got a fresh batch of radio intercepts I think you'll be interested in perusing."
Harrison took the proffered sheets. Nothing unusual he could see ... just the usual radio wave patterns they'd been encountering all along. He frowned and handed them back. "Norton—go get yourself some sleep. I've seen these patterns before. Several times, in fact."
Norton grinned smugly. "No, Doc, you've seen these before." He gave Harrison a different printout. "Radio patterns collected from a point in space—the coordinates aren't important right now—off and on since we started this project." He gestured at the first printout Harrison still proffered. "Those patterns originated from a broadcast point on Earth."
"Earth?" Harrison blinked at him, certain he'd misunderstood. "Are you sure?"
Norton sniffed. "Of course I'm sure. That's why they pay me the big bucks."
Harrison sank into the chair next to Norton's desk, trying to make sense of it all. "Impossible."
"Of course it's impossible." Norton sounded exas
perated. "That's why I yanked you from that party you didn't want to be at. Look here." He motioned for Harrison to give him the printouts; as soon as Norton had them, he spread them out, one above the other, so that both sets of wave patterns were visible. Harrison leaned closer to look at them as Norton traced a long brown finger over the repeating patterns.
"Notice the parity." He caught Harrison's puzzled frown and said, "Don't try to figure out the contents, Harrison, just look at the patterns. That's a signal— that's a response. That's a response to the first response—"
Harrison understood. "And that's a response to the second response. My God." He looked up at Norton's grinning face. "A communication. An honest-to-God communication!" His lips curved upward.
"On the money. I don't know how they did it, but those radio waves were boogeying! Talk about your subspace radio—transmission and response all occurred within an afternoon's time. Either the military is up to something we don't know about, or we've got an uncomfortably close encounter here." Norton's focus shifted abruptly. "Love your tux, by the way."
Harrison grunted. "Char bought it for me. Right now I'm tempted to let you have it." He pulled off the bow tie and loosened the collar with a groan of relief. "Norton, let's be sure we're not just hallucinating. I want to see what the Supercomputer says about this. Book time on the Cray. Priority time if you have to."
Norton raised both hands, palms out. "Whoa, Doc,
slow down. You're talking megabucks here. How're we gonna justify this to the penny pinchers?"
Harrison shrugged. "The Cray's the best computer in the world, right? So don't ask me—ask it."
"Doc ..." Norton's tone softened. "If it's what we think it is . . . I'm not sure how I feel. Half of me is thrilled beyond belief to find something out there. But the other half-—"
Is terrified as hell. . . "Don't say it," Harrison interrupted. "If it's what it looks like, Norton, it's a good thing you're not in the mood to sleep. I need you to pinpoint the location of this first transmission."
"And when I do?" Norton's expression was grim.
"Then, by God," Harrison said, "I'm going there to find out what it is."
By morning Norton's dark eyes were bloodshot. His lids fluttered; he slumped forward in his chair, his face on
Thirty minutes later Harrison stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway of Norton's office. "This
had better be good, Norton. Char may never speak to me again, leaving in the middle of a very important party I didn't want to be at in the first place."
Norton sat, looking haggard but animated, behind a desk draped with unfolded computer printouts. "You ever get premonitions, Harrison?" His dark eyes glittered feverishly.
"Norton, what the hell are you talking about?"
Norton gathered up one of the printouts and thrust it at Harrison. "Here ... Got a fresh batch of radio intercepts I think you'll be interested in perusing."
Harrison took the proffered sheets. Nothing unusual he could see ... just the usual radio wave patterns they'd been encountering all along. He frowned and handed them back. "Norton—go get yourself some sleep. I've seen these patterns before. Several times, in fact."
Norton grinned smugly. "No, Doc, you've seen these before." He gave Harrison a different printout. "Radio patterns collected from a point in space—the coordinates aren't important right now—off and on since we started this project." He gestured at the first printout Harrison still proffered. "Those patterns originated from a broadcast point on Earth."
"Earth?" Harrison blinked at him, certain he'd misunderstood. "Are you sure?"
Norton sniffed. "Of course I'm sure. That's why they pay me the big bucks."
Harrison sank into the chair next to Norton's desk, trying to make sense of it all. "Impossible."
"Of course it's impossible." Norton sounded exas
perated. "That's why I yanked you from that party you didn't want to be at. Look here." He motioned for Harrison to give him the printouts; as soon as Norton had them, he spread them out, one above the other, so that both sets of wave patterns were visible. Harrison leaned closer to look at them as Norton traced a long brown finger over the repeating patterns.
"Notice the parity." He caught Harrison's puzzled frown and said, "Don't try to figure out the contents, Harrison, just look at the patterns. That's a signal— that's a response. That's a response to the first response—"
Harrison understood. "And that's a response to the second response. My God." He looked up at Norton's grinning face. "A communication. An honest-to-God communication!" His lips curved upward.
"On the money. I don't know how they did it, but those radio waves were boogeying! Talk about your subspace radio—transmission and response all occurred within an afternoon's time. Either the military is up to something we don't know about, or we've got an uncomfortably close encounter here." Norton's focus shifted abruptly. "Love your tux, by the way."
Harrison grunted. "Char bought it for me. Right now I'm tempted to let you have it." He pulled off the bow tie and loosened the collar with a groan of relief. "Norton, let's be sure we're not just hallucinating. I want to see what the Supercomputer says about this. Book time on the Cray. Priority time if you have to."
Norton raised both hands, palms out. "Whoa, Doc,
slow down. You're talking megabucks here. How're we gonna justify this to the penny pinchers?"
Harrison shrugged. "The Cray's the best computer in the world, right? So don't ask me—ask it."
"Doc ..." Norton's tone softened. "If it's what we think it is . . . I'm not sure how I feel. Half of me is thrilled beyond belief to find something out there. But the other half-—"
Is terrified as hell. . . "Don't say it," Harrison interrupted. "If it's what it looks like, Norton, it's a good thing you're not in the mood to sleep. I need you to pinpoint the location of this first transmission."
"And when I do?" Norton's expression was grim.
"Then, by God," Harrison said, "I'm going there to find out what it is."
By morning Norton's dark eyes were bloodshot. His lids fluttered; he slumped forward in his chair, his face on
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