Usurper of the Sun by Housuke Nojiri Page A

tie.
    “How do you know they have noticed our transmissions?”
    “Because their evolution is so far ahead of us that it makes us look like we’re going backward.” He straightened his shoulders. “The chances are nil. Maybe they would overlook radio waves, but I know they can detect a laser. That Perpetual Happiness almanac puts their light in the sky six centuries ago and proves that their laser is within our visible spectrum because that teahouse proprietor saw it. Even if their eyes are radically different and work along a different swath of the spectrum, you have to figure that the Builders would use a light that they could see too. They would choose beams they could see for when it was time to decelerate. Tell me that we’re aiming wrong, tell me that four-tenths of a light year is far enough away to be grossly inaccurate, maybe it’s even dissipation and we don’t realize it—but don’t tell me they can’t see it.”
    “Could their sensors be blinded by sunlight and unable to distinguish between the two because they blur on the visible spectrum?” Aki asked.
    “Sensors? Maybe. Eyes? Unlikely. Our laser’s monochromatic, different than sunlight. It would be a sharp peak on any optical spectrum. Relatively, the sun looks weak from that far away. There’s no way it could drown out the brightness.”
    She had to concede that he was right. The ETICC’s satellite used an ingenious laser that changed its frequency, sending a range of wavelengths but ranging across the entire visible spectrum. Even if it needed to land on a certain frequency to communicate with the Builders, there would be times when the beam would coincide. “Given that the Builders detect it, do they realize it is encoded?”
    “Here’s the theory: to make sure the deceleration laser is functioning, they must be able to check its beam of light, in case it’s blocked by a comet or even a meteoroid. No amount of scatterplotting can predict that stuff with enough accuracy. They monitor their beam, or any beam that matches, right?”
    “It is likely.”
    “They discover our signal is intermittent, it wavers and creates a regular pulse. Any chance they ignore it?”
    “I do not see why they would.”
    “Some natural energy sources emit simple repetitive pulses, but ours is much more complex and spans a broad range of frequencies,” Riggins said.
    Aki could see how a human scientist would be curious enough to want to investigate and find the cause of the phenomenon by recording the pulse, placing it on a time axis, and then uncovering the embedded information, but she was not sure that the Builders would react in the same way. Why are they disinterested in a civilization that is calling out to them? How can advanced intelligence coexist with an absence of curiosity? Can the Builders simply be cosmic apathists? How could the Builders have gone to such extremes to undertake this incredible journey and yet be completely unconcerned with who might be waiting to greet them at their destination?
    “What is the best theory for explaining the Builders’ apparent indifference then?”
    The director shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve bounced it around. Damage to their ship?”
    “From the size of the deceleration array,” Aki said, “it looks like a fleet of ships.”
    “I know, I know. Even if it’s one, their nanobots would repair it.”
    Aki nodded and finally took a sip from her water.
    “Any other potential explanations?”
    “The next best is sadness from a loss of morale. I admit that I wouldn’t blame them.”
    Aki said, “Oh? Go on.”
    “The Builders have been traveling over six hundred years. No matter what their life span, the mission gets handed down from generation to generation. After centuries of passing through empty space, they’ve lost their purpose. Morale drops, partially from the lack of stimuli. After that, our guess is an onboard catastrophe and the ship is empty and either operating on