“Congratulations,” Solly said.
Kane asked whether the Hunter could assist. He was somehow the only one of the four who managed to keep the pomposity naturally generated by such a moment out of his voice.
Kane gazed out of the picture directly at them for about a minute. And then he was gone. The screen flashed the Hunter seal again, and the picture blinked off.
“End of reception,” said the AI.
Kim was still standing up, far too excited to sit. “I’d do anything to see the answer to that” she said.
“Find the original logs,” said Solly.
She nodded. “We have to do that when we get back. That’s our first priority.”
Solly folded his arms and stared at the screen. “I hope Kane didn’t destroy them.”
“I’m sure he didn’t. This is the most dramatic moment in human history. There’s no way he’d have destroyed the record. None. He’s hidden it somewhere.”
“But where? Why?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
It was taking a long time for the next transmission to come in. “You know,” said Solly, “one of Kane’s questions keeps coming back to me. Why do you think he asked if Hunter could assist? Is it possible the celestial is disabled? In trouble?”
“Could be. Damn Kane anyhow. We shouldn’t be caught up in all this guesswork.”
“I think you should show more appreciation.”
“Why’s that?”
“If he’d done everything by the book, done what he was supposed to do, this whole matter would have been settled twenty-seven years ago. And you would never have gotten near it. Instead, he’s saved you a juicy puzzle and a chance at immortality. Be thankful.”
“Visuals,” said the AI.
Emily reappeared. “Hello again,” she said. “Would you like to come on board?”
“What’s that all about?” asked Solly. “They don’t expect anybody hanging around out here to speak English, do they?”
“It’s not the words,” said Kim. “It’s the tone. The nonverbals. But I wouldn’t think a truly alien culture would be able to read our nonverbal cues.”
The image went to a split screen and Hunter materialized beside Emily. It floated against a river of stars. A dazzling burnt orange planetary ring arced across the sky behind it. The cargo door opened and lights came on, illuminating the interior. Emily’s side of the split screen vanished, and Yoshi blinked into existence in her place, beckoning to the open door so the occupants of the other vessel couldn’t possibly miss the point.
“That’s not bad,” said Kim.
Solly pursed his lips. “I’m not sure I agree.”
“Why?”
“If we were looking across, say, a few hundred meters of empty space at a ship that was not manned by people, that was in fact operated by God knows what, and they opened a door and invited me in—” He held out his hands to heaven. “Not very likely.”
“Solly,” she said, pretending shock, “where’s your spirit of adventure?”
The Hunter repeated its transmission.
And repeated it again.
“The whatevers are thinking it over,” said Kim.
Solly nodded. “Tripley’s pressing his luck. He should leave it alone. Offer once and drop it.”
A slice of starry sky was visible past the hull of the Hunter. “Solly,” she asked, “how would you think they’re producing those pictures?”
He thought for a moment. “Easiest way would be to use the feed from one of the scopes.” He glanced at the starfield glittering in their windows. “Then do an overlay of the Hunter just as they’ve done with Yoshi.”
“Then that’s the way the stars would actually have looked, on that night, from their position?”
“Probably. Sure.”
“Would you guess the forward view?”
“Maybe. That might be the natural way to do it. Why? What difference does it make?”
“Probably none. But it does give us a course heading during the contact.” She filed the information away in her head.
“What time of day would it have been when all this was going on?” asked Solly.
Kim had been keeping track. The first radio signal had been transmitted from Hunter at 11:42 A.M., February 17, 573, Seabright time. It would now be 4:12 P.M. on the Hunter.
“What they should do,” said Solly, “is just go back to the radio and keep talking. Try to establish a next step.”
The FAULS screen was blank again. “Well,” she said, “I don’t think the invitations are working.”
There was nothing more for almost two hours. Then Hunter transmitted the open-door image again, this time with Tripley. But he merely waved to the viewer and made no effort to point at the cargo area.
“I guess they’re at a standstill,” said Solly.
Kim exhaled. “I’m surprised.”
“In what way?”
“That they’d spent so many years trying to accomplish precisely this and been so little prepared for the event.”
“You mean the open-door pictures?”
“I mean the whole thing has a kind of spontaneous feel, doesn’t it? As if they were all taken by surprise. It makes me think they never really expected to succeed.”
“What should they do?” asked Solly.
“The bottom line is that Emily and her friends can’t do very much. And they need to recognize that. They aren’t going to be able to master a new language; they can get only so far with number games; and it’s obvious that establishing a sense of mutual trust with, say, giant spiders is going to be a tricky business. I’d say it would take a team of specialists to get much beyond saying hello.”
“Therefore—?”
“Therefore they should concentrate on one thing: establish a date for a second encounter. If they could do that, they’d have achieved as much success as anyone could wish.”
“How would you go about it?”
“They’ve got a planet handy. They could use the planet to make a date. Show them, say, a couple hundred revolutions. Six months. We’ll be back in six months. The meaning would be plain enough.”
“You make it sound easy,” Solly said. “Too bad you weren’t with them.”
She drew up her knees and put her arms around them. Emily was with them.
Solly was showing signs of frustration. “How about some breakfast?” he suggested.
“No, thanks. I want to stay here.”
“You won’t miss anything. I don’t mind getting it.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’m not hungry. Really.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to exercise my prerogative as captain and insist. This might go on for another twenty-four hours or so, and I don’t need you getting sick out here.”
She looked at the status panel. At the glowing lamps. “All right,” she said.
He brought out two plates of ham, biscuits, and pineapple slices. Kim ate quietly, subdued, annoyed at the apparent inability of the Hunter to create an effective strategy. Solly suggested the celestials might have been scared off by the open door. Or that they might have a cultural bias prohibiting them from befriending a different species. Or—
“How could that happen?” she asked. “These critters have spaceflight. Since they’re in the vicinity of Alnitak, they must have FTL. Surely they wouldn’t be afflicted with preconceptions about another sentient species.”
“Maybe they’d have a religious problem about us,” he said. “Maybe we’re not supposed to exist, and we’ve trashed a theological system.”
“I don’t think you’d find that kind of thinking among space-travelers.”
“Really? We had Christians and Muslims arguing all the way out to Carribee. Even the Universalists are inclined to look down on anyone who doesn’t subscribe to the official theology.”